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."
奇怪的是，我一打开始就没觉得那份喜欢是因为相同的趣味，而是他帮她拿鞋、自行车过时下意识挡在她前面的手，或者小心翼翼吹头发的时候。
去年《正常人》的余震还在，差不多整整一年。
唯一不会变的是改变本身呀！维持现状什么的并不可能存在～
坂元裕二写过一个剧叫《最完美的离婚》，现在终于完成了“最完美的恋爱”，完美就完美在绢和麦有最完美的分手。
文艺青年的爱情，他们在一起的原因，也是他们后来分开的原因。
7.5分。这片子不错，但个人不觉得有传的那么好。皮克斯这次算是彻底放弃了传统的合家欢设计，就算对比《头脑特工队》，本作的笑点也少了很多，更像是一部披着动画外衣的剧情片了。别说孩子了，你去和还有着大把时间可以挥霍浪费的年轻人谈认真过好每一天，估计也只会换来白眼。也就是30+可能更会有感触一些。本片应该会延续皮克斯在国内叫好不叫座的传统吧~~当高潮过去，生活依然会继续，你所以为的所谓脱胎换骨从来就不会发生在真实世界，关键还是自己心境的调整。PS： 22最后应该是变成了个中国人~~~
其实这两个人根本就是totally different的一对，同样的爱好只能代表同样的品味，而品味是被社会和消费主义建构出来的，其实全片中他们几乎没有什么真正触及灵魂深度的交流。明显女主是不认同自己父母那种世俗精英主义价值观的，但是他们俩竟然没有就这个问题讨论过。拜托，文艺青年居然没有在一起讨论过人生？？？那这个相似难免显得浅薄又标签化。
爱情片最大的魅力是它把你的故事提前放映给你，你却还要再在生活里演一遍。
唯一的疑惑是，看习惯了名著的人是看不下去成功学的，无论自己多想暴富都是看不下去的，文青即使过得落魄也是放不下身段去看这种东西的
年龄大了，不再因剧中的人流泪而感动。原本不错地生活质感，因设计了太多巧合而割裂，体现在两人初遇时聊的话题，参加葬礼时交叉剪辑两人各自吐槽的话语，以及餐厅分手时正好乱入的学生情侣。这种设计并无不妥，但无法将影片整体思想拔高。最终也可见，影片没有抛出更多新的思考，只是讲了一堆再平常不过的大学情侣的破事。
一部成熟的爱情片，首先体现在它是否在讲述一段成熟的爱情。
多年以后回想起来，其实他并不喜欢木乃伊，她也不喜欢煤气罐。
开头非常惊艳，台词也写得好，但后面有些台词有点莫名其妙，逻辑不是很通或者是牵强（比如女主出场自我介绍那一段就非常无厘头）；对于两人相似度的刻画要么就是有些过于刻意要么就是量子纠缠（同框对称拍摄会更好一些），因为这个世界上几乎不存在一模一样的人...
和前男友刚认识的时候，聊到某本书某部电影，对方刚刚讲了一丢丢信息，我就立刻知道他要讲啥。比如有次他说某部很棒的电影，主角是个小男孩，我秒答《何以为家》。这种情形超级多！！
男主可塑性非常强，很有质感。
在工作日疲惫的通勤路上看到最后来到店里的年轻男女那两双匡威开口笑后直接泪崩，我上中学时也和喜欢的人都买了一模一样的，在课桌底下排成一排。所以是不是能聊文学和电影、是不是文艺青年这些从来都不那么重要，学生时代那种独有的恋爱的感觉才是最最最珍贵的，彼时我们浑然不知，以为这羞涩触电的感觉是天经地义，那么现在呢？
差得令人吓一大跳，两个人一致和不一致出现的点完全失控，导致所有情节既肤浅又做作还虚假
是的 我竟然覺得不錯 有一種自己到了人生某個標誌點的絕望感（誤） 一開始還嘲笑呢 這不就是豆瓣友鄰面基後相愛的故事嗎 後來變成了《文青和他們的愛情之死》 越看越覺得真實 有人會覺得很老套 可能因為這就是每天都在地球上發生的事的緣故吧 人類die inside/say goodbye to themselves 的故事日常版 大抵應該就是這樣了 有點電視劇feel 最後結局有點多/牽強/強行開心 但不礙事
相爱的部分很好，把一对豆瓣式文艺青年的爱情想象拍得太甜了，下班走三十分钟回家聊一路简直要哭出来！但花束过保质期的过程拍的太理所当然，显得浅薄了。女孩的情感轨迹还算清晰，男孩这边就是一个“社畜生活消磨美好想象”的黑盒，毕竟主创可能没真的社畜过，无法理解和共情，也就无法表达这个过程的深沉和痛苦。张力是瘸腿的，几场重头戏也拍的有点啰嗦，导致最后只能用复现的偷懒做法达到情感高潮。
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