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."
结尾真的很难不让人流泪呀！尤其是现在上了年纪以后，这两年又经历了太多变故，也就更加容易多愁善感了，看到贾玲哭成泪人，再看到用蒙太奇展现的母亲对于女儿那份深沉浓烈的爱，实在是没料到会有这样一个反转。虽然前半部分显得有些过于冗长，且部分笑料也比较俗套过时，电影展现的技法也不够娴熟，但是这份对于母亲的真诚确实太戳心窝子了。有点遗憾，今年第一次在异地过年，没法带妈妈一起看这部电影。贾玲说自她有记忆起，母亲就是中年妇女的模样，而我还有幸记得妈妈年轻时的样子，长发、白裙，瘦瘦的，下次回家我要把妈妈年轻时候的照片带在身边，我要永远记住她美丽的样子。
诚然，贾玲的技法上有很多问题，作为导演还是太稚嫩笨拙了。但光那句“我的女儿健康快乐就行”，反观隔壁消费女性作笑话的《唐探3》，回望前几天春晚的催婚小品，对比此前开心麻花的作品，就已经足够让人神清气爽了。
贾玲最后干吼的那一段太尬 ，有时候悲伤真的不是靠哭来让别人有共鸣
贾玲作为一位新人导演，这次成绩单交得真的棒！
微博上发不出负面评论，怒打低分。浓缩成一出小品 或者 拍一个短片，也许会不错。作为一部电影，一塌糊涂。难过。
小兔子跟大兔子说我爱你从这里到月球那么长，大兔子等小兔子睡着了说，我爱你从这里到月球再折返回来。
我要强烈批评影片最后刻画母亲买票又退票在大雪天中一个人走回去的镜头，我不接受，母爱不是因为牺牲才伟大，爱与关怀本身就是伟大。
贾大玲成了影史之最。
难看，逻辑无内容粗糙无笑点强行煽情，这部电影请问除了立意好之外还有哪里有可取之处？人物塑造失败，陈赫这个角色和感情线有啥必要吗？看的稀里糊涂，打排球那里前后拍的又臭又长有啥必要吗？沈腾文艺汇演那里我的表情就和台下观众的表情一样…还有从头到尾一直在强调你妈妈希望你健康快乐就行了，也没挖掘母亲本身作为一个少女一个独立的人的思想，本质还是中国式父母，以孩子为中心。不值得高分也不值得这个票房
让这部电影挂在中国影视的前列，告诉所有电影人，电影是抒发自己情感引起全国共鸣的好办法，质朴的手法、真挚的感情就能获得观众的理解。
#ffmuc 电影学院周六早场，影厅没有坐满。两年多没回家的我在黑暗中听见乡音，从一开始就哭哭笑笑。说是川剧版《霸王别姬》，表现手法却十分当代，除了权力边缘的视角，还有川人特有的坚韧和达观。如若走时也是牛头马面来接我，黄泉路上可以和旧友搓麻将赌钱，酆都城里有人想念有人给唱戏，死又何惧？
“我的女儿，只要健康快乐就行了”
没有想到这么好。一开始笑死，后来又哭死。结尾尤为动人。
去掉后面煽情的感觉会更好点，另外贾玲不应该自己当女主，看着她的脸实在是不像刚毕业的高中生。。。
绘画背景：
8分？是因为我没看过开心麻花，对这个体系的喜剧存在一些误会吗？我以为自己对贺岁片已经够宽容低期待了，唐探，飞驰人生，流浪地球，都是手松一松能给4星的贺岁片，但李焕英是真的不行，毫无新意，所有的场景台词都是能找到一百八十个前辈的陈词滥调，听听你妈年轻时候的故事都比买票跟着别人哭强啊，脱离不了屎尿屁和融梗的国产喜剧，太廉价。尊重贾玲的心意，但不认同这是一部值得被夸赞至此的电影。
过年的时候跟爸妈一起看的。我哭得稀里哗啦。回来我爸举着手机高声朗读网络段子：有人看李焕英哭得稀里哗啦，回家连一只碗都不愿意洗...
这分数真是绝了，太虚高了。没啥笑点也没啥哭点，唯一感觉演员演的都不错，尤其是张小斐。全国人民给贾玲的情怀买单……还把全国人民都感动了……好无语……
贾玲哭的时候很明显没有在演戏，这是最让人伤心的。
贾晓玲从天上掉下来李焕英“我的宝啊”小小瘦瘦的冲过去一下子戳到我了
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