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."
“你残疾是天生的没有人会怪你，大家都会怪我。”母亲是更伟大的。
没有选择用力过猛的催泪渲染，赛道上几乎窒息的面孔、超过火车时母亲的惊愕、运动员做快递员的尴尬、举起手指的第一名却总能四两拨千斤触摸到心底的角落，细节饱满的设计与大小苏桦伟的刻画，让平实的煽情有了灵魂。在树立母爱足以创造奇迹的同时，更打造了一部属于苏桦伟的传记。母爱、奔跑、残疾、贫困都组成了这段传奇，却又都只是他的一部分，创造神奇的成分尽是由生活淬炼。
所有人都是驾轻就熟的表现，唯一的问题是，似乎有些过于四平八稳了。
中规中矩的励志，残疾运动员训练艰辛背后还可能面临更严峻的经济压力。但是那时候的体制并没有很好地照顾到残疾人的生活。电影是说到了一些实际的现象，故事来说就有些煽情过度了。
2021.11.6 算是完成度挺高的瑕不掩瑜的成品吧，煽情過猛，但蘇樺偉們都很厲害啊！（感觸頗深的是教練雖然想偉繼續跑專心跑但對他放棄或拍廣告也不好說什麼，我村的運動員們真是太不容易了。
即使评分很低，但我确确实实看泪目了两三处，最后的成功也很振奋
各个角色的演出出色，台词和剧本都写得很好。但是摄影手法和CG还以为在看《你好李焕英》，即便取景地和staff大多是本土出品，不过看不出港片特色。或许是为了进军大陆市场才作此选择。如果采用更朴素的摄影或许会是近年港片最佳
提前看了点映，残奥题材迎合刚刚结束的东京奥运会，对比明显。惭愧的是，我竟从来没有关注过残奥会，想来大多数人也是一样。毕竟媒体没有像奥运会那样铺天盖地地宣传，甚至电视上也没有转播。
难得的题材，出色的表演，让普通的体育励志片有了更大的看点。尽管只是一略而过地提及运动员面临的伤痛、荣誉、退役、训练、生活等困难，但是也能让人去了解和重视。影片有很多的情感高潮点，但是铺排节奏失当，情绪无法层层累积，在结尾的第四次北京奥运上推到顶峰，如果能更好地利用励志片的节奏和叙事节奏，观感应该会更好。
stereotype母爱，然后弟弟好惨，全剧最惨，唉
1、电影开头阿伟在08年奥运会赛道上预备起步，然后闪回倒叙讲述从小到拿第一块96年奥运会金牌的过程，45分钟时跳跃接上04年奥运会跑步拿金牌的超燃画面，接下来的时间重点讲述04–08年之间的现实生活和跑步，完成开头的08年预备镜头闭环。2、母子的沟通对话水平正常有逻辑，也比较生活化。寻常的情节更温馨更轻松。 3、同工同酬，一个正常的运动员退役后也很难维持生存。一瞬间的光辉不代表永恒。 4、跑道上很简单，一直向前跑不会迷路，但是做人会，所以阿伟需要妈妈。5、他们只会怪妈妈。6、笑料温情和励志的比例大概是1.5:2:2，可看性高，但跑的方面过于简单了，面面俱到，是道美味佳肴但不会难以忘怀。
香港电影真的扫兴啊，连这样的真人传记类电影，都很难坚持看下去。——2021.10.21看完
再，「點解有條路甘好，你都吾去行？」到「你是天生殘疾，沒人怪你，都是怪我(做阿媽的)」。上一代人吃的苦，造就他們不可被挑戰的姿態，重重陰霾籠罩在這一代人頭上，就問你感到窒息沒有？這是尹志文在點破，即可見，他身為導演，和監製吳君如的拉扯關係。又剛好，吳的老公，就是《奪冠》的導演。
电影完全没有进入一个残障运动员真实生活的内部，无论剧本，演员，台词，服装，像极了塑料味极重的装饰，不仅在在痛苦与煎熬的外部滑行，而且在试图制造感动的过程里，因为浮贴，隔离，而不断消解真实事件的感人力量。
这么好的题材但是导演不太给力，煽情的部分有点多，转场的淡化有点多，画面动不动就慢速了都让我感觉像是在看广告；很喜欢少年时代的苏桦伟扮演者 特别有少年气，而且形象上更贴合真人
最末尾有个感动点。
止于情绪唤起的励志传记。中国特色的母爱是沉重的，也是令人窒息的。
看的国语版，吴君如的配音不好，有点出戏。希望正式上映后有粤语版排片，我会再去一次影院支持票房。
这种电影能尽量拍得不煽情不励志，是很不容易的。整部电影看下来，更多像是一种纪录片的感觉，会觉得是认识了另一位“苏神”。这类电影应该普及，让全社会发现残疾人其实也是普通人。
感觉还行，嗯。还算不错吧。
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