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."
饭桌戏
质朴、真实的感动！近十年最好的国产电影！没有之一
以潮汕文化作为立足点去讲述家庭伦理中的众生相。新思潮随着改革开放的步伐不断地冲击着传统的人和事，最终还是避免不了人走的太快，灵魂丢在后面的问题。导演作为一个土生土长的潮汕人，为观众展示出一幅具有潮汕文化的浮世绘，既有对过去的缅怀，也有对新未来的憧憬。
带妈妈去看的，从小到大一听有人说潮阳话就乐
作为一部喜剧电影，藏在电影里面的包袱简直太棒了。好笑，出人意料，且不刻意。
一星给汕头的一切 比韩寒拍的更细和真实 钟少贤演得很好
正常情况下，这种大妈语境的片名电影我是不会去看的。因为才女学妹（上海某大学教授）推荐，所以才不惜路迢迢从北五环外特意跑东北四环望京观影（排片很少）。观影完毕，感觉还不错。最大亮点是潮汕文化，剧情完成度也不错，演员演绎得也自然天成。总体还可以，起码能给7.5/10分吧。没去过汕头，所以看着潮汕文化很新奇，最起码满足了对这种文化的好奇心。妈妈表演得尤其可圈可点，分寸感拿捏得很到位。种草汕头，列为疫情之后出行目的地之一吧。
最触动我的是拜神的那里，儿子找不到垫子，妈妈一进去就找到了，实在真实得过分。
挺有意思的。这个我应该没有什么共鸣的题材我居然哭了。有点感人啊。
平平常常唠家常生活化的片子 还挺可爱的 现代和传统的冲突又无处不在 虽然我不大相信这么轻松就和解了 现实生活中根深蒂固的观念改变绝非易事 也许是电影表达的一种理想希冀吧 妈妈最后指着保俶塔说雷峰塔
也不知这算不算网大，概念不重要，重要的是我看到了一部真诚的作品，导演简介里也多次提到了“人戏合一”这个形容，真是这样，尤其对我们这种去过潮汕逛吃、但没有深入了解潮汕风土人情的“外省客”，感动之余也更有跟着影片去旅行的另一层收获。再有个收获就是潮汕方言的乐队《玩具船长》，虽然听不懂词，但和台湾的生祥、交工乐队那帮人一样类似的寻根民乐风格也是深得我心。是我愿意给5星的小成本影片。
虽然很平凡的故事，但是看得又笑又哭，转头一看，我妈也看得又笑又哭。我大潮汕人看起来真的好亲切，很多俚语俗语，真的要会讲潮汕话才更加好像有。
上一次看潮汕话电影已经是将近十年前的《鮀·恋》了，家乡电影虽然进步没有广州快但还是有在前进，表演特别自然，人物互动有趣不尴尬（除了开头的相亲胖妞桥段有点外貌羞辱的感觉不喜欢），几首潮汕插曲质量都很不错。刚好这两天见了男朋友老妈，潮阳潮南话对我来说听得好累，所以水鸡兄和许友文的一口标准汕头话让人巨亲切无比hhh潮汕电影目前可能还停留在用本地特色唤起胶己人共鸣的层面，故事上仍然是挺传统的潮汕刻板印象，家乡情怀加一星，希望以后能有更突破传统的故事~
继《爸，我一定行》之后又拍了一部潮汕本土电影，从励志片换成了爱情片。完成度在剧情大概来讲，这部电影比较套路，会在很多类似的电影里看到类似的剧情。作为一部爱情片，男女主的CP感也不怎么样。不过有意思的是，他确实讲到了潮汕家庭的传统，也讲到了外来媳妇本地郎的一些有趣的问题。而且也拍得很贴近生活，有几个镜头也是可圈可点的。
1. 外省人外国人，代入感极强 2. 小姐姐真是太好了 3. 素人演员不可替代
作为电影不怎么样，但是有助于外省女孩了解部分潮汕家庭，非必要不嫁潮汕男？现实只会比电影更甚。
有种刻意营造出的真实，有些段子幽默是不是太过头了，演员素人还是稚嫩跳戏，冲突做的不错，是个完整的故事
拍寺庙，广东人一般很忌讳。
真实的细节使得观片过程轻松愉快，演员都没有什么名气，但贵在生动自然
飞机场那段卡掉留白省事
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