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."
《真爱至上》的一体两面。
优点很明显：时髦、舒服、立意好、三个女演员光彩熠熠；但缺点也很明显：故事和主题都太散，看到老乌死了以后就在想不会就这么结束了吧还什么都没讲呢，虽然最后一段落脚在爱情上，但总觉得太弱太淡了
预定年度最佳，目前为止看过最好看的商业电影，有趣又有深度，难能可贵。
索菲娅·罗兰还在，我也还没看过《爱情神话》，那份亦真亦幻和上海的气质如此搭调共同构成了神话的基础。确是内地罕见的有气息有质感有趣味的城市生活电影，真的「灵」，幸好是讲上海话；同时也是内地罕有的以轻巧之姿直面男女关系/观念改变的电影，幸好是女导演。音乐用得过重是最大败笔，几乎每次都把人拽出来，需要在这方面把「舍」做好。表演整体都出色（除了几乎只说普通话的儿子），周野芒和倪虹洁出挑。7/10
全中国也就只有上海人还能负荷这个程度的精神世界了。没有精神世界的人是没有爱情的，更没有爱情神话。
厉害极了，112分钟实打实地熬过去，却好像一句话没有说。到底是什么样的时代容得下一群人如此自我陶醉，如视无物地活在梦里？日新月异，每不到半年街道便要再被从头到脚美化一回的上海，到底能留得住多少濒死的记忆，又能供多少人游戏般起居和做梦？只怕电影拍的既非上海，也非人情，更不是文艺，只不过是幸运地站在中产尖端的人群如何自我消解、恬不知耻的意识形态罢了。
全程无感，惊讶于一片叫好声。跟上海文化始终有点隔阂，也的确不欣赏这样的电影，像那种听来的别人的故事，停在表面，没有纵深。
小女孩不爱带嘤，义呆梨家族企业在义务，老乌是为国争光彩旗飘飘，乳化什么乳化啊。。。
国内真难得呀，画展tag让我想到大冰两秒....dbq
好得不得了。倪虹洁真是妙妙妙。然后看了评论，为什么有些人看一个电影，不是看这个电影里有什么，而是在意里面“没有”什么？不会想和这样的人做朋友。我十分enjoy。
我一直觉得吃饭戏能拍对，一部作品就不会差到哪里去。这几场吃饭聊天的部分，修罗场十足，信息量巨大，又火花四溅，真的特别好看。整部电影不再是钢筋水泥味，一股子人间烟火气，真好。
小女孩不爱带嘤，义呆梨家族企业在义务，老乌是为国争光彩旗飘飘，乳化什么乳化啊。。。
喜欢。没想到这么好笑。欧洲电影的感觉。好像也只有上海，讲这样的故事还算搭调。除了一地鸡毛，沉痛悲情，还是可以有轻盈的中年嘛。
小布尔乔亚精致糖水片，有些地方过于精致了，比如路边的补鞋匠也有自己的coffee time。难得在国产电影里看到中产视角下的中年情爱，他们的爱情都是小联合国，他们的艺术都是现当代艺术，他们的电影都是费里尼起步，也只有上海才有这个地域土壤了。拍的很好，像是看舞台小品，但始终无法代入。
段子手就别拍电影了，全是自恋小聪明，整体啥不啥，全片唯一真实的地方是男女主微信聊天的文字。
千万不要被片名劝退，反而你看完电影后还会觉得片名非常有意思，因为电影竟然埋了一个很大的电影致敬梗，也算是含有很重的电影元素了。或许这也是不少人愿意给出很高评价的原因之一吧。结尾确实回味无穷，很有感觉，看完之后不禁百感交集，产生很多感慨。这里不得不提一下周野芒，曾经饰演水浒英雄——林冲的他，这次演起上海老克勒也是游刃有余啊，特别富有韵味，让我印象太深刻了。至于徐峥、马伊琍、倪虹洁、吴越也都演技在线，沪语飚起来真的很爽，或许因为长期在上海工作生活的原因，所以看的时候会有额外的滤镜吧，熟悉的街景，熟悉的味道，熟悉的梗，算是魔都电影的典范之作了。至于电影所探讨的那些话题，如今已到而立之年的我也有了更多的体会，爱情这个东西呀，真是玄之又玄。也借这部电影，祝福自己吧。唉😔
富婆和ktv小鲜肉、男生化妆和父亲的冲突。都是女导演带来的银幕新视角。在电影院bgm和色彩好沉浸。
看得出导演努力地想把这关于上海人市井小资生活的电影上升到某种基调，但是很抱歉俗到家了，若是真诚地拍市井烟火也可以拍出好电影的，不知道为什么非得把自己往文艺上硬凑，压根不是这块料，结果生活不生活想搞深刻然而影片那种塑料平庸的质感又喷屏而出，尤其是把徐峥这个角色设定成一个画家也别扭至极，活脱脱一工厂老板味道，真的辱画家了，整部电影叨絮片面又刻意，还有背景音乐也是一通强行乱插。
太好看了！两个人包场，从头到尾笑得好大声！各种金句频出，各种致敬、讽刺、玩梗（昨天看的那部啥电影哦明明是翻拍宣传却不提，北电毕业然后卖电子烟，笑死个人！）最最重要的是完全女性视角（虽然主角是男性），完全是性转版的中年爱情故事！上一次看这么有女性意识的国产片都不记得是哪部了……
时隔整两年重回电影院第一部。又市井又洋气啊，毕竟国际化大都会，看看里面提到多少国家：英国，法国，意大利，土耳其，前苏联……也有遗憾，不是说好的女性群像吗，怎么展现最充分的是大肚男徐峥，情绪爆发和点题又在老乌身上？
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