In 1961, Stanislaw Rozewicz created the novella film "Birth Certificate" in cooperation with his brother, Taduesz Rozewicz as screenwriter. Such brother tandems are rare in the history of film but aside from family ties, Stanislaw (born in 1924) and Taduesz (born in 1921) were mutually bound by their love for the cinema. They were born and grew up in Radomsk, a small town which had "its madmen and its saints" and most importanly, the "Kinema" cinema, as Stanislaw recalls: for him cinema is "heaven, the whole world, enchantment". Tadeusz says he considers cinema both a charming market stall and a mysterious temple. "All this savage land has always attracted and fascinated me," he says. "I am devoured by cinema and I devour cinema; I'm a cinema eater." But Taduesz Rozewicz, an eminent writer, admits this unique form of cooperation was a problem to him: "It is the presence of the other person not only in the process of writing, but at its very core, which is inserperable for me from absolute solitude." Some scenes the brothers wrote together; others were created by the writer himself, following discussions with the director. But from the perspective of time, it is "Birth Certificate", rather than "Echo" or "The Wicked Gate", that Taduesz describes as his most intimate film. This is understandable. The tradgey from September 1939 in Poland was for the Rozewicz brothers their personal "birth certificate". When working on the film, the director said "This time it is all about shaking off, getting rid of the psychological burden which the war was for all of us. ... Cooperation with my brother was in this case easier, as we share many war memories. We wanted to show to adult viewers a picture of war as seen by a child. ... In reality, it is the adults who created the real world of massacres. Children beheld the horrors coming back to life, exhumed from underneath the ground, overwhelming the earth."
The principle of composition of "Birth Certificate" is not obvious. When watching a novella film, we tend to think in terms of traditional theatre. We expect that a miniature story will finish with a sharp point; the three film novellas in Rozewicz's work lack this feature. We do not know what will be happen to the boy making his alone through the forest towards the end of "On the Road". We do not know whether in "Letter from the Camp", the help offered by the small heroes to a Soviet prisoner will rescue him from the unknown fate of his compatriots. The fate of the Jewish girl from "Drop of Blood" is also unclear. Will she keep her new impersonation as "Marysia Malinowska"? Or will the Nazis make her into a representative of the "Nordic race"? Those questions were asked by the director for a reason. He preceived war as chaos and perdition, and not as linear history that could be reflected in a plot. Although "Birth Certificate" is saturated with moral content, it does not aim to be a morality play. But with the immense pressure of reality, no varient of fate should be excluded. This approached can be compared wth Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Blind Chance" 25 years later, which pictured dramatic choices of a different era.
The film novella "On the Road" has a very sparing plot, but it drew special attention of the reviewers. The ominating overtone of the war films created by the Polish Film School at that time should be kept in mind. Mainly owing to Wajda, those films dealt with romantic heritage. They were permeated with pathos, bitterness, and irony. Rozewicz is an extraordinary artist. When narrating a story about a boy lost in a war zone, carrying some documents from the regiment office as if they were a treasure, the narrator in "On the Road" discovers rough prose where one should find poetry. And suddenly, the irrational touches this rather tame world. The boy, who until that moment resembled a Polish version of the Good Soldier Schweik, sets off, like Don Quixote, for his first and last battle. A critic described it as "an absurd gesture and someone else could surely use it to criticise the Polish style of dying. ... But the Rozewicz brothers do no accuse: they only compose an elegy for the picturesque peasant-soldier, probably the most important veteran of the Polish war of 1939-1945." "Birth Certificate" is not a lofty statement about national imponderabilia. The film reveals a plebeian perspective which Aleksander Jackieqicz once contrasted with those "lyrical lamentations" inherent in the Kordian tradition. However, a historical overview of Rozewicz's work shows that the distinctive style does not signify a fundamental difference in illustrating the Polish September. Just as the memorable scene from Wajda's "Lotna" was in fact an expression of desperation and distress, the same emotions permeate the final scene of "Birth Certificate". These are not ideological concepts, though once described as such and fervently debated, but rather psychological creations. In this specific case, observes Witold Zalewski, it is not about manifesting knightly pride, but about a gesture of a simple man who does not agree to be enslaved.
The novella "Drop of Blood" is, with Aleksander Ford's "Border Street", one of the first narrations of the fate of the Polish Jews during the Nazi occupation. The story about a girl literally looking for her place on earth has a dramatic dimension. Especially in the age of today's journalistic disputes, often manipulative, lacking in empathy and imbued with bad will, Rozewicz's story from the past shocks with its authenticity. The small herione of the story is the only one who survives a German raid on her family home. Physical survial does not, however, mean a return to normality. Her frightened departure from the rubbish dump that was her hideout lead her to a ruined apartment. Her walk around it is painful because still fresh signs of life are mixed with evidence of annihilation. Help is needed, but Mirka does not know anyone in the outside world. Her subsequent attempts express the state of the fugitive's spirits - from hope and faith, moving to doubt, a sense of oppression, and thickening fear, and finally to despair.
At the same time, the Jewish girl's search for refuge resembles the state of Polish society. The appearance of Mirka results in confusion, and later, trouble. This was already signalled by Rozewicz in an exceptional scene from "Letter from the Camp" in which the boy's neighbour, seeing a fugitive Russian soldier, retreats immediately, admitting that "Now, people worry only about themselves." Such embarassing excuses mask fear. During the occupation, no one feels safe. Neither social status not the aegis of a charity organisation protects against repression. We see the potential guardians of Mirka passing her back and forth among themselves. These are friendly hands but they cannot offer strong support. The story takes place on that thin line between solidarity and heroism. Solidarity arises spontaneously, but only some are capable of heroism. Help for the girl does not always result from compassion; sometimes it is based on past relations and personal ties (a neighbour of the doctor takes in the fugitive for a few days because of past friendship). Rozewicz portrays all of this in a subtle way; even the smallest gesture has significance. Take, for example, the conversation with a stranger on the train: short, as if jotted down on the margin, but so full of tension. And earlier, a peculiar examination of Polishness: the "Holy Father" prayer forced on Mirka by the village boys to check that she is not a Jew. Would not rising to the challenge mean a death sentance?
Viewed after many years, "Birth Certificate" discloses yet another quality that is not present in the works of the Polish School, but is prominent in later B-class war films. This is the picture of everyday life during the war and occupation outlined in the three novellas. It harmonises with the logic of speaking about "life after life". Small heroes of Rozewicz suddenly enter the reality of war, with no experience or scale with which to compare it. For them, the present is a natural extension of and at the same time a complete negation of the past. Consider the sleey small-town marketplace, through which armoured columns will shortly pass. Or meet the German motorcyclists, who look like aliens from outer space - a picture taken from an autopsy because this is how Stanislaw and Taduesz perceived the first Germans they ever met. Note the blurred silhouettes of people against a white wall who are being shot - at first they are shocking, but soon they will probably become a part of the grim landscape. In the city centre stands a prisoner camp on a sodden bog ("People perish likes flies; the bodies are transported during the night"); in the street the childern are running after a coal wagon to collect some precious pieces of fuel. There's a bustle around some food (a boy reproaches his younger brother's actions by singing: "The warrant officer's son is begging in front of the church? I'm going to tell mother!"); and the kitchen, which one evening becomes the proscenium of a real drama. And there are the symbols: a bar of chocolate forced upon a boy by a Wehrmacht soldier ("On the Road"); a pair of shoes belonging to Zbyszek's father which the boy spontaneously gives to a Russian fugitive; a priceless slice of bread, ground under the heel of a policeman in the guter ("Letters from the Camp"). As the director put it: "In every film, I communicate my own vision of the world and of the people. Only then the style follows, the defined way of experiencing things." In Birth Certificate, he adds, his approach was driven by the subject: "I attempted to create not only the texture of the document but also to add some poetic element. I know it is risky but as for the merger of documentation and poety, often hidden very deep, if only it manages to make its way onto the screen, it results in what can referred to as 'art'."
After 1945, there were numerous films created in Europe that dealt with war and children, including "Somewhere in Europe" ("Valahol Europaban", 1947 by Geza Radvanyi), "Shoeshine" ("Sciescia", 1946 by Vittorio de Sica), and "Childhood of Ivan" ("Iwanowo dietstwo" by Andriej Tarkowski). Yet there were fewer than one would expect. Pursuing a subject so imbued with sentimentalism requires stylistic disipline and a special ability to manage child actors. The author of "Birth Certificate" mastered both - and it was not by chance. Stanislaw Rozewicz was always the beneficent spirit of the film milieu; he could unite people around a common goal. He emanated peace and sensitivity, which flowed to his co-workers and pupils. A film, being a group work, necessitates some form of empathy - tuning in with others.
In a biographical documentary about Stanislaw Rozewicz entitled "Walking, Meeting" (1999 by Antoni Krauze), there is a beautiful scene when the director, after a few decades, meets Beata Barszczewska, who plays Mireczka in the novella "Drops of Blood". The woman falls into the arms of the elderly man. They are both moved. He wonders how many years have passed. She answers: "A few years. Not too many." And Rozewicz, with his characteristic smile says: "It is true. We spent this entire time together."
补，喜欢在评论里看到的一句：这是一部能让人变得柔软的电影。
2、如何与亲人以及自己和解？
大龄舅与幼童甥的差异、沟通和情感，用黑白色调展现，很有味道。摄影不错。
冲突，和解，道歉。很多很多对彼此的理解，亲密关系的建立。情绪教育。孩子的智慧和洞察力，对于暴力的理解那段真的令人惊叹。对生命无常的描述和应对。
整体情绪仍旧是平静温和
一个“假想父亲”带娃的历程，剧情很少，对话很多。如此纯粹，如此温暖，如此赤诚。
在fictio和non-fiction间，在高楼大厦和沙滩间，在回忆和当下间，在人与人之间，在走过的每一条街道上，不断思考，不断提问，不断回答，无论暴烈、温柔，胆怯，不都是在努力着吗。也可能会忘记我们携手上路，忘记一起笑，忘记一起呐喊，忘记争执，忘记那些深夜的呢喃不安，忘记发生的这一切。但是我会提醒你的啊，无论谎言或真相，不要忘记这些瞬间啊，所以C′mon C′mon，到这场parade来吧，要怀抱希望才能看见希望，不是吗。
Jesse说要C'mon C'mon的时候，眼泪哗一下子的就流下来了
3.5 原来是公路带娃片…跟城市掠影同步的是对儿童的理解、对将来之物的理解。（跟友邻开心面基了！感谢豆瓣！
或者说，抛弃掉影片借助“未来式”问题访谈的文本论述，华金和小男孩已经完全让我沉浸其中，心就像充盈液体的气球被一次又一次猛扎，激起强烈共鸣与情绪宣泄，也唤醒alienation在时间延滞下无尽弥散。就像前几年看her，凝视屏幕里一张脸，却看到一整个世纪的孤独，也像是被撬开了今年一整年，一切都在飘荡，一切都在游走，一切存在与接近都是问号的附庸物.2021最后一部五星，谢谢华金.
3.5
找寻丢失的、丰富的孩子 雨中离开前往机场的车
影像很舒服。人物状态很惬意。故事很松散。不是我的菜。所以对不起。
温温吞吞，累了可以看看，什么都想提点又什么都没提，美国人就爱在一些不该担心的地方、或者即使担心对了地方也屁用没有、或者根本轮不上该种社会角色担心的地方瞎担心。剪辑不错，不磨蹭又不赶，很会利用画外音摆脱枯燥的叙述。
前段时间看到，一直忘了标记……记录一下和他算是同步看的第一部电影，看之前他说要找一部意义重大的电影，这部温柔的电影似乎也有着别样的意义。通过采访，不断让孩子说出了一直埋在心里的对于世界的感受和看法，更让人看到的是成年人隐藏在内心甚至可能被早已遗忘的情绪。希望，我们可以像我们想象的那样，走遍各地，分享感受。
蛮特别的电影，看起来真的有些辛苦。毕竟跟现实比较，就不太能认可了。
一部很有设计感的电影，将虚与实镶嵌起来呈现。一面是，一个编导去记录，生活在不同社会环境和家庭氛围中的未成年人的想法的过程；另一面是，一个叔叔和他年仅9岁的侄儿，如何从巨大的年龄差异中，摸索出共通的人生脉络的经历。
迄今为止，人生中哪一件事情是你认为的最悲伤的事；你害怕孤独吗；如果你可以拥有一种超能力，你希望是哪一种超能力；什么样的关系会让你感到紧张；你长大后希望成为一个什么样的人；有什么决定你会为之后悔，并渴望拥有重新选择的机会；你最好的朋友最吸引你的地方是什么；你认为成年人是一种什么样的人，跟小孩子有什么不同。像是一张针对小朋友的“普鲁斯特问卷”，看似开放式的提问隐藏的却是家庭教育、学校教育以及整个社会体系给孩子的直观感受，毕竟他们面对记录的话筒尚未学会遮遮掩掩，小孩子才会自信地回答，“成年人存在的意义是赚钱以及偿还助学贷款”。电影认为，小孩子都是哲学家，尤其知道自己想要什么，又该如何去追求，反而变成大人，每个人都被社会教化，按照一套标准答案无限趋近一种相似的人生。成年人最必要做的是不要让自己变蠢。
语言有讲述的困境 即便你讲了这么多 但一点都没往我心里去
u have 2 come on！看的過程想到的平時不太用的高級詞 雋永。一個男孩和很多個孩子，一個叔叔，和一對父母，New York City，New Orleans和LA。某種程度上的小紀錄片，「宏大」的問題和孩子舉重若輕的回答，有趣尋味。某種程度上的城市電影，紐約、奧爾良、和洛杉磯，風景和標誌。雖然我沒記住那些耐人尋味的文本，但是大概會是推薦給別人看的那一種電影。黑白畫面，不斷推進的文本台詞。還挺寫意。 @2022-01-10 23:21:47 @2022-06-03 23:25:49
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