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."
从新冠疫情爆发的2020年循着记忆一路回溯到青春开始的地方，那是美好初恋发生的时光。
看了一半，弃。什么玩意啊。端着架子的那种做作
放心看吧。用画面诠释了每一首歌。在轻
歌方面感觉没有前作那么好，可能是我的个人喜好问题吧。
想拥有一只永不言弃的考拉🤪
还有什么比窝在家里陪女儿看她喜欢的动画片更好的事情呢？
大概是Theatre folks能体会的那种喜欢。喜欢的动画出续集的时候总是会忐忑，但总体来说我房没塌的感觉，我还是爱这个系列的！这个舞台布景是真的美绝了，创意也不错啊，要是真能在现实中被制作出来就真的很想看了。整个电影的情节走向有点点《nativity!》的感觉。里面还有些走心的小细节，比如寡姐配音的ash因为报酬比同组演员少选择辞演，制片人裙带关系，用年轻苗条的女儿换掉中年猪妈妈，都是对应了这个industry中的一些实际问题。好久没见taron了，虽然这次也是只闻其声吧。感觉taron的歌唱家人设立起来之后，演唱得更自信更如鱼得水了，里面又唱了elton的歌算是小bonus吧。
歌单太豪华了，尤其是BONO加盟，演唱会高潮I still haven’t found what I’m looking for 献给追梦人的颂歌，五星好评👍霉霉和碧梨的歌配的情节太逗了哈哈哈，给我宝塔伦的大猩猩打电话（唱歌一如既往好听满天星喜欢
3.5。跟森山未来以前的大丧片相比，竟是如此明媚，四个人生阶段，四位女友相伴。全是独白，“愚蠢且无聊的日复日工作，我们怎么改变自己的一生”，社畜梗显然比大篇幅的情感线更引起共鸣，《我们无法成为大人》，是在旁骛的人生中无能为力、彻底躺平。
当“拒绝普通”的宣言被人生长河淹没，“拥抱普通”也值得歌颂。《薄荷糖》+《花束版的恋爱》。森山未来妥妥耐看型，少年感太强了，演21岁还不违和，每个时间段都自然到信服，显得东出昌大几场造型有些潦草。涩谷的那间主题房是见过的最好看的主题房，希望有大神能总结一下这部片的拍摄地点。
个人真的蛮喜欢，虽然剧情核心故事上没有第一部来得有深度，但本集创作者依然把自己想要呈现给观众的内容都做的很到位了。最后的歌舞剧真的很赞，看得很开心。
还记得第一部，每首歌都惊艳和热血……结果第二部，除了最后舞台剧的编排，其他毫无惊喜，感觉是部山寨续集
个人真的蛮喜欢，虽然剧情核心故事上没有第一部来得有深度，但本集创作者依然把自己想要呈现给观众的内容都做的很到位了。最后的歌舞剧真的很赞，看得很开心。
20%夜空蓝的游离感+20%花束的契合感，拼在一起还是半桶水。
笑点全都集中在蜥蜴上，整体故事乏善可陈，甚至有些不可思议，用了许多大热歌，氛围还是挺棒的，真就是歌曲改变“影生”
剧情负分，刺猬小姐太可爱了。哈哈哈
在新冠肺炎日增300人的夜晚，佐藤走在空無一人的大街上，開始回想自己是如何變成無趣的大人，時間便像薄荷糖般開始一段又一段回溯，回溯到1997時，螢幕畫幅從寬屏變成90年代窄屏，畫幅限縮，但是頭頂上的黑邊不見了，象徵著回溯到了自由的年代，第一次與筆友見面、與筆友做愛，千禧年後筆友不告而別的分手，即便後來又遇到幾個新歡，但是第一任時常掛在嘴上的好普通，跟著世俗走的好普通，讓他在感情上一直抗拒著結婚這件事，直到20年後滑到臉書好友，原來她也變普通了，驀然回首25年過去，從登報交友變成線上交友，第一次的相遇，其實也好普通...孤寂的男人在孤寂的夜晚回想自己的青春過往，伊藤莎莉非常意外很突破，AV帝王唯一不需要脫衣服的她，竟然因為這部突破自我了。夜晚過後黎明升起，口罩戴上，繼續當社畜、當非理想中的大人
本片采用类似于李沧东的《薄荷糖》那样的剧情结构，顺着时间线一一返回，从不满现实愤世嫉俗的大人一直到最初的纯真青年。
每人心中都有老茧，足够厚的时候要削削，一层层拔离，最后见到最初命定的不曾愈合的伤口。我们都无法成为大人，是因为我们无法自控的甘心让伤口变成老茧。那时的那点儿伤在我们开始老去时才可以治愈。影片及原著的倒叙方式恐怕只有过来人才会触目心惊。
它在我心目中比《花束》要爱的深沉
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