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."
啊 台灣的老師那麼兇哦…衝突的醞釀和爆發很真實。想要的、能接受的、想給的、能給的之間的衝突。如果能哪怕給一點離開美國家的時候的片段來展現母女三人在美國時候的關係和交流方式，那回到台灣之後生活方式和各人行為的轉變應該會更明確一些吧。
虽然有温暖愉快的部分，但互相折磨从来就是家庭生活中必不可少的……至少我们80后90初这代人，哪怕看看台湾的背景，也能想到很多自己的成长故事吧。谁不想回美国呢，我也想（
真的太一般了 我一个会轻易被母女煽情打动的人都一脸懵逼 在Chicago-NYC飞机上看的
3.5。面對極具話題性和文化意義的議題，阮鳳儀在還原時代氛圍之外沒能達到基本的完成度。在相對華彩的「起承」之後，影片留下了俗套且破碎的「轉」以及空洞且洩氣的「合」。
不同于《喜宴》《推手》中出于LS或ZZ原因、生存需要移民的海外华人家庭，本片中的移民家长出国动机竟然是傻白甜的“美国梦”，回国仅仅是因为家庭经济无法支撑其在海外治病，也许这些情节都以导演的经历或见闻为蓝本，但这都注定与广大群众的朴素爱国情感冲突，更何况这是发生在如今令人发指的对岸社会。关于移民二代的家庭问题、归根后的水土不服、主角与时代的相互影响都没深挖，只讲了一个看似抛开各种TAG也无碍的问题家庭故事。哪怕只看亲情呈现，两个在美国成长的孩子和父母、和新环境的矛盾欲言又止，芳仪最后究竟是想开了、释然了还是麻木了不点明白的话，这个故事拍出来难道只是靠噱头拿奖？电影本身的话，或许是同样有相关经历，林嘉欣和小演员的对手戏挺好的，但这么为刻意营造影调而不顾氛围说服力打低调光的画面还能拿摄影奖真的匪夷所思
年纪大了真是看不得这种片子 因为知道短暂的温情前后全是无尽的琐碎与折磨 sigh
很好理解的小故事，说不出哪里好，但看完的确会被感动。
家的本质是摇摇欲坠，为了能不破碎的生活下去，要对外防御，势必向内就会封闭。里面的女孩和女儿下辈子想当一匹马，女人和妈妈下辈子想当男人，后来离开“家”无论去了哪里都容易回到原点。没有读出来的演讲稿很好，芳仪想套住她以为的splash哭着说please i need u，发现不肯屈服的它不就是自己，而自己不就是妈妈吗，哭着哭着就被迫明白了，演得很动人。
知道它欠缺在哪里可是……丝丝入扣，针针入肉。林嘉欣太好了。
当青春期的少女遇到患乳腺癌的妈妈，当跨文化环境成长的女孩在不同校园环境中切换，当中年父亲面对身患癌症的妻子，…冲突和温馨交织的一家人，充满烟火气的普通生活。青春期的小女生角表演完美。
除了女儿与白马互动部分看得我比较不以为然，很流畅的一个讲移民返乡文化适应和亲子关系的小品文。03非典时我跟居中读初中的大女儿同岁，尽管生活背景无一相似，但尽然感受到了一些熟悉的温暖，几个主演还是都很喜欢。
和很多台湾电影一样，好像一直在平铺直叙地讲生活琐事，但又因为细致真实，让人无法不沉浸其中
一种很用力的记录感，最后一刻，看似矛盾化解，实际这个家庭内部并没有太多何实质的进展，还有比较遗憾的一点是，非典的背景和故事没什么关系
是一个温情脉脉的故事，家庭小品。林嘉欣演妈妈很自然，也把很多小细节表达的很到位。欢迎回归。
要负担起一个生命的责任，还要面对自身的恐惧、疲倦、自我怀疑，真的好重好重。
-你到底在气你妈妈什么？
优点是镜头运用和段落衔接做的很舒服。但林嘉欣的表演没有层次，父亲的角色没有分量，反倒是小女孩儿，有那么点出彩。把故事交给争吵，看起来吵的很热闹，其实冲突感并不深刻，家也像盘散沙，没有太多家人的感觉。
影片开头你看到了大量的东亚文化控诉（借以美台环境对比之名），展现了标准的东亚家庭亲子之痛，叠加代际文化等因素，最关键的演讲稿的出现，琢磨着扔个大炸弹，结果掏耳朵虚晃一枪以为喷的是男权（讲真的，这片子里爸爸就是牛马），其实核心还是亲情之爱，但确实是很台湾的方式了。最后呈现了以小见大的台湾家庭情景小品。
唉，哪一个家庭在这个节点没有这些乱七八糟的事呢，又或者说每个家庭的每天是否都在经历这些问题呢
电影结束有种意犹未尽啧 林嘉欣可真好看 电影开始有几个侧脸镜头可真漂亮啊
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