Traces of Justice review: Chen Sicheng's forensic thriller bites hard

Chen Sicheng's Traces of Justice chases forensic science across three decades of Chinese criminal cases. The Guardian's review, published 10 November, calls the film "an arresting forensic cop thriller" built on "thumping set pieces and knotty puzzles".

The director is the prime mover behind the hit Detective Chinatown franchise, which grossed as a Chinese New Year crowd-pleaser from 2018 onward. His new feature is something different: a portmanteau biopic. Its hero, Cui Xun, is a fictional stand-in for Cui Daozhi, a real-life forensic scientist still alive today who so revolutionised the field that he became known as "China's Sherlock Holmes".

What cases does the film cover?

Chen rips three-and-a-bit tales from the casebook, spanning roughly 30 years:

• a 1970s child killer;
• a grisly 1980s multiple murder;
• a 1990s bus bombing;
• plus one lingering loose end.

The review's central argument: the film is simultaneously a history of forensic investigation and, in variably oblique ways, a history of Chinese law enforcement itself. That history is shown evolving from "boozy, gloveless crime-scene trampling" into something far more streamlined and professional. The critic describes the overall mix bluntly — "a disarming mix of propaganda, copaganda and gripping narrative".

How does the film follow the science?

Within a handsome period framework, Chen tracks how one era's crazy innovation becomes commonplace in the next. The review's standout detail concerns the rookie Cui, played by Zhang Yi, who ages up subtly across the decades. He uses boiled potatoes to take dental imprints; when the potatoes run out, he and his colleagues start biting one another's cheeks to make their points.

The critic finds visual wit in this: the resulting scars amount to "a terrific visual gag: scientists literally showing their working".

By the 1990s section, Cui heads a team working out of a vast, well-staffed warehouse. The review notes the visual drift toward American procedurals — at that point, "we seem mere moments away from David Caruso's sunglasses and memorable Who guitar riffs", a nod to CSI: Miami's signature styling.

What is the film really saying?

The review reads a forbidding subtext in the forensic build-up: after 50 years of such breakthroughs, "there's no more getting away with it". The film makes the point in dialogue. As one suspect insists: "everyone pays for what they've done".

The takeaway, in plain words: Chen has swapped Detective Chinatown's broad entertainment for a state-adjacent procedural that still delivers as genre cinema. The Guardian's verdict suggests the film works both as thriller and as an oblique chronicle of institutional change — an unusual combination for a mainstream Chinese production, and one that signals where Chen's ambitions now lie after building one of China's most bankable franchises.