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."
政治極度不正確+荒誕黑色幽默cult片，怒劈左膠，大快人心。美中不足就係場面調度差咗啲，個結局好“正確”。
黄sir这个梗我是接住了 冰血暴的梗也接住了 也许他们进去 是最好的人物归宿
220430上午、晚上与220501上午。
男主演技出神入化，像是从原著小说走出来的。
看得时候怀疑我的IQ过低所以我看的有点晕乎，但有评论说电影和原著出入比较大。好奇又看了原著，emmm，确实仿佛两个故事了，原著本身就挺精彩，不知道为嘛要加上那一段隐喻精神病人脑内幻想的碎片场景，解读过度，打算把佛洛依德和茨威格合体一下？？
2022年4月24日观看，不要重看，文件已删。（贱人笑到最后）
FA（四声）国电影总局，你们是这么把关的，这是什么导向啊？还喜剧标签，谁喜了，啊？！！小朋友看到了，还怎么长身体？只有大饥荒年代，才会偶然出现“易子而食”的现象，只有乱世才有极个别“孙二娘的店”、“龙门客栈”，在新冠都快消停的新时代，传播这些，是想要干什么，嗯？！！哼......
很荒诞又很影射现实的一部电影，字幕组也是人才，居然直接就翻出了黄秋生的大名，也搞不清楚到底说的是啥，不过行为嘛，倒是挺人肉叉烧包的。可以从很多的角度来解读，比如说，在婚姻中，两个人还是要有共同的语言和追求的，你看他们两个人，多么的嗨皮啊。
being touched，only books、spirit、integrity could be the forever company.
法国佬好像什么题材都可以幽默一把，明明是连环杀人狂魔杀人分尸吃人肉卖人肉的恐怖事件，却搞得这么轻松搞笑加爽快，连人肉叉烧包的梗都用上了，活生生成了喜剧片。所以当你看到这两口子把那些素食者干掉吃下去或者当伊朗猪肉卖掉，不仅心里没有恐惧和恶心，甚至于还有一丝丝的快感和解气。很赞同导演的思想，素食肉食不过是生活方式的不同，这个世界是多元的，不同的理念完全可以共存，为什么非要道德绑架或者强迫个人的意志，这也许就是观众对这两口子恨不起来的原因，那些伪善的素食者被这样消灭还让人有了解恨的感觉。两口子的覆灭和虚伪的人际关系也有密不可分的关系，社会中像这样虚假的朋友背后捅你一刀的时候屡见不鲜，这样的设计让观众也更有共情之处。喜欢法国佬这种调调，比起美帝那些恐怖片更有独道之处。
能把这题材拍拍那么好笑也只有法国人了，翻译必须加分
题材很暗黑，但拍的很sunshine，这很法国。没什么出挑的优点，黑色幽默什么的也谈不到，不过没大毛病，随便看看就还行吧。
令人惊喜的大手笔的改动！叙述方式变成了禁闭岛+穆赫兰道，精神内核则成了彻头彻尾的悲剧。这时候才意识到茨先生温柔善良到给遗作都留了一线光明的尾巴，创造出救世主般的外力（在现实中是大夫帮助男主逃出酒店，在幻境中是“我”拉男主回归理智）给了死局一种理想化的破解方式——保持了理智的同时“赢”了“棋局”。而电影版则是牢牢砌死永无出口的铁屋子，自我的维系与斗争的胜利只能二选一——非精神摧毁而不能赢。船上斗棋获胜是翻转整个设定的神来之笔，试问谁在读小说时没有幻想过博士大获全胜的爽文呢？图穷匕见之时才知道绝无爽文，只余绝望。果然是冷酷的编剧才能有立意极高的改编，如果戛然而止在灿烂阳光中就神作了。（小细节：警察局长认输后翻开棋谱，镜头给到一位大师，他的名字正是男主在船上的化名；而男主离开酒店时签的也是范列文）
黑色幽默啊啊啊啊，哈哈哈，黄秋生，哈哈哈哈
有点让我出乎意料的惊喜，觉得还不错，可以二刷下
爽片一个，充满法国的黑色幽默，让人反感不起来的法国夫妇
法国人真是什么都能想出来拍。肉铺夫妻意外撞死了一个素食主义者，他们把这个倒霉蛋分尸后竟然误吃了他的肉，然后他们发现素食主义者的肉超级香。于是，他们不仅自己吃，而且把肉放在肉铺出售。这种肉卖得特别好，大家慕名而来，很快就卖光了。为了继续吃到这种美味，夫妻俩开始捕杀素食主义者。俩人不仅因此吃到了美食，赚了很多钱，而且还增进了感情。挺好笑的恐怖喜剧，不仅黑了素食主义，而且好像还黑了穆斯林，因为他们把这种肉叫做“伊朗猪肉”。
政治極度不正確+荒誕黑色幽默cult片，怒劈左膠，大快人心。美中不足就係場面調度差咗啲，個結局好“正確”。
竟然还不错 👌 咋说呢 任何立场下的极端主义都是恐怖分子
三星佳作。
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