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."
UGC Rotonde 家族史视角是动人的，逝去的先辈和新生的血液，女主对于传承的执着呈现出一种女性行使生育权的主动性。两位各自承载过往故事的单身母亲之间的关系也十分迷人，如果情欲的部分不那么轻率直接，我会更喜欢。
不是最好的阿尔莫多瓦，但Penélope Cruz的表演一如即往地，绝。一个充满韧性的承载痛苦的容器，这个威尼斯影后真的实至名归。三代单身母亲，从战争埋葬丈夫，到追逐演员梦抛弃丈夫，再到自愿选择不介入他人家庭而单身生育，女性再次作为个体与历史创伤的载体。
阿莫多瓦把八点档狗血剧的情节应用于铺陈历史观，也算是别出心裁。虽然略生硬道理讲的却很明白：没有过去就没有未来，寻求真理说出真相，永远都不算晚。
因为西班牙内战前后的历史可能是除中国外我最熟悉的一段了，于是开头大概抓住了阿莫多瓦这次的政治线索，电影也就显得更“亲近”一些。内容上自然可以代入政治的交错复杂、或远或近的联系，但结构上不应该是这种政治式的“顾左右而言他”，否则就会像这部一样“莫名其妙”。阿莫多瓦不从具体而微进入，而是直接挖掘历史遗迹，这份不变真诚和恳切仍然让我万分敬重。
【7】一方面是揭开尘封的谜底，寻找历史真相，一方面是挑明由“抱错孩子”而累积的无数谎言。能看出不少夹带私货，想讲历史，也一如既往地想刻画“母亲”，但两件事之间的联系没那么清楚，有点抽象、暧昧了。（单说表演，潘潘虽然不错，但没那么亮眼，记不住）
关于历史反思和伦理关系，两个主题的融合有点强硬，故事非常奇情
多元家庭，血脉连接，战争伤痛，全部是中景和近景，房间好看，这是基因检测宣传片吧
《痛苦与荣耀》是借班德拉斯来回顾自己创作的一生，《平行母亲》则是借克鲁兹来回顾西班牙的历史伤痛，实际上是阿莫多瓦一次更加倚老卖老的行为，尤其是克鲁兹饰演的母亲像年轻母亲怒斥铭记历史的重要性一段，仿佛是一个老者的唠叨，像年轻人诉说着那段过去应该留下的痕迹，母亲这在里变成了等同于国家的重量，这次不再放荡的阿莫多瓦，也承担起了自己作为一名艺术家应尽的社会责任。
《痛苦与荣耀》是借班德拉斯来回顾自己创作的一生，《平行母亲》则是借克鲁兹来回顾西班牙的历史伤痛，实际上是阿莫多瓦一次更加倚老卖老的行为，尤其是克鲁兹饰演的母亲像年轻母亲怒斥铭记历史的重要性一段，仿佛是一个老者的唠叨，像年轻人诉说着那段过去应该留下的痕迹，母亲这在里变成了等同于国家的重量，这次不再放荡的阿莫多瓦，也承担起了自己作为一名艺术家应尽的社会责任。
1+1＜1 虽然两条线是有“血缘”共同母题，但放在一起讲感觉很怪，同性+母爱的感情“合剂”小插曲挺亮眼，结尾画面还算震撼。
学校周末放假后看的第一部电影是阿莫多瓦的狗血故事片。已经很久没看正统艺术类故事片的我还是有被打到，不得不佩服编剧的脑洞。是的，她们是母亲，但也是女人
3.5 林达写西班牙内战的《西班牙旅行笔记》彻底改变了我对战争，尤其是内战的看法。不过这部阿莫多瓦相对此前看过的倒是没有那么触动我。
咋后来她俩还在一起了？阿莫多瓦脑洞越来越大了。 浅金/白色短发是欧洲Les电影T的标配么
Ana的自我探索完成在生育之後的每一個核心正中我點，對生育以及性向的探索太Almodóvar式的feminism了
整体的衔接转折有点突兀；加莱亚诺的那句话值一颗星。
果然不是优秀的历史片导演，有很多细节上的隐喻，元素有点多了，少了很多类型片的拍法
这死胖子就是个大骗子，千万别信丫的。
真情实感的平行母亲。
阿尔莫多瓦，2021。克鲁兹超棒的表演。依旧关注女性话题，依旧关注“母亲与孩子”的依附角色。通过“寻找身世”的核心，交汇起两条平行的线索，追寻人的来往和去处。细腻的内心通过影像细节，声效和调度，让观影者发生共鸣、心领神会
对阿莫多瓦来说 其实也就是随便拍拍的程度 女性主导的视角 酷儿元素 大开大合的情节剧 并通过家族中女性的一种血脉延续来反观国家的历史变迁 主动挖掘泥土下被刻意掩埋的伤痛之后 代际间割裂的时空被打通 吊唁才因此有了具象化的实体 主线与支线的联系做得再紧密一点会更好
Copyright © 2015-2023 All Rights Reserved
