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."
在我看来，电影里的悲伤故事，是那么的令人嫉妒
一部非常稳扎稳打的温情家庭片，细腻却不细碎，人物的状态都出奇地相称，节奏上没有一丝拖沓。甘斯布绝美的气质惊艳了整部电影，柔和却恰如其分的表演让影片的发展沿着不变的轨道前进。可与引用的侯麦电影比却少了些自如，配乐的大量使用有些取巧，以及一些情节的设计感有点浓，略显刻意
每一个片段都是既脆弱又伤心。“一开始想象的生活并不是这样，但我们已经尽力去热爱了，对不对。”
在混乱痛苦的当下，文艺电影并不能让我有共鸣，但这部呈现出太不一样的巴黎。巴黎可以是艺术的、浪漫的、激进的、杂乱的、优雅的，但居然也可以是忧伤无解和带给人抚慰的。新的一天可能是迎来离别，也可能是迎来新生。Gainsbourg的演技和平缓的ost comfort me。
在一對中年情侶面前談論像嬰兒一樣脆弱的十九歲流浪少女時感覺很奇妙。歐吉爾故事竟貫穿了全片我好感動。出現里維特是我沒想到的🥺看到最後會覺得這是寫給巴黎的一封情書啊。我決定推薦我媽去看這部電影了。
沉醉于巴黎的夜。舒适至极的电影，是深爱着这座城市才能描摹出的生活。soundtrack大加分。（就是说我什么时候可以定居法国...
轻盈随性 绝美的色调 柔和的光影 温暖舒适的室内设计 浪漫的巴黎风景 寻常的故事和台词 穿插的八零年代巴黎景色是精髓 看过这部电影就算当了一回巴黎夜旅人 致敬彻夜不眠后窗边的晨雾 音乐和香烟/甘斯布居然是英国人 真的很像法国美女
这就是我最喜欢的电影类型，舒缓的节奏，不需要强烈的戏剧冲突推动情节开展，人物关系松弛温情有爱，配乐和布景审美在线，可以看上一天一夜。No. 1700!
本来甘斯布要来现场的，结果因为档期耍了我们，导演倒是识趣，知道我们不在乎他，随便露个脸就走了。
趁精神还没有被困囿到阳痿，声音还没被棉签
才发现女主妈妈是女性y者的主演，这么一看电影剧情就连上了
悲伤的温暖的愉悦的蓝色影像，有时候像蓝丝绒有时候像蓝薄纱，但都是很轻盈的，城市的蓝色天幕和车流灯光仿佛笼罩着一层蓝颜色质感的材质，愉悦时可以看到随着微风轻轻荡漾的毛流，悲伤时可以触摸到粗糙的颗粒和沟壑感，就像这部电影传递的城市和个体状态，清晰的感受着它的每一缕弧度以及在光里泛着的光影尘埃，对于状态的呈现非常成功，原来城市里蓝色这样的冷色调也能如此温柔可爱。
或许只是不属于我
一边看一边跟朋友吐槽，欧洲人还是矫情，这大house住着搁咱这儿妥妥人上人。看着看着还是妥协了，谁不苦呢？大house住着也是苦。Charlotte Gainsbourg真的是风姿矍铄，法国中年女人抽烟也太美了！
巴黎，夜，旅人，好喜欢那个大窗户，喜欢到想攒钱买个大平层的程度
Charlotte依然很美。好溫暖，如果Talulah沒有離開就更好了。我也有一本媽媽的日記…
我的女神基本上都出产与法国，阿佳妮，苏菲玛索，甘斯布。他们的美，游离于性感与知性之间。不同年龄段都能展现出恰到好处的美，这种魅力是很神奇的，有点法国特有的意思
#3742看过。这才叫「文艺片」。像一颗蓝色的玻璃糖果，没有甜味，却美得晶莹。我铆足了劲想要逃离现在的生活，突然我爱了很久的人喊我的名字。停下，回头，温柔荡漾。 想立马打开《巴黎的忧郁》，听波德莱尔念一首破碎的诗。
不喜欢，是看过直接从脑袋里滑出的类型。海报还给姥爷切没了...
不是忘了怎么回答，是有些春光早逝在了燃情
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