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."
当我们身处于互联网的时代，不论媒体还是周遭，无形中都鼓励着这个时代的人们表面化。而A24的瞬息全宇宙似乎就是这个表面化互联网时代的产物。当我们看着诺兰的电影（星际穿越）时，电影之中的情感与和解用“爱”来解答是可信的，因为星际穿越的家庭构成是简单的父女关系。而瞬息全宇宙的家庭构成设置是东亚华裔家庭，且不说国际语境如何，单论家庭中的LGBTQ含量已然足够复杂，东亚家庭的隔代裂痕更多不会是以爱的名义去理想的“和解”，更多的还是陷入无尽的深渊。多条故事线，似乎就是一个储力瓶，通过多元宇宙的形式不断加压，最后变成一碗鸡汤。但到头来拍得最好的是两块石头的对话，这是一个美好的譬喻，最终的一同滚落更像是东亚家庭最终的结局。
Finally something new! 虽然有大量视觉奇观，但最最重要的设定还是用了亚裔中年女性做主角，这一改直接给故事提了三级。这真的是我们完全没有能力、没有市场、没有可能做出来的故事了。
最后感叹，做个石头就行了。
再说内核，这片女主的种种生活囧境（事业，老公，女儿等等），最后靠“回忆”和所谓的“爱”，就都搞定了，也太童话了吧，真是包治百病。完全是“主观臆想”，这片就是“天马行空”的爆米花煽情烂片。实在闲的没事，看个热闹算了。（我也是真够闲
“很多人认为欧洲的过去会是亚洲的未来，事情或许是，亚洲的过去才是亚洲的未来...”
刻在东亚人骨子里的除了家庭关系，还有跟相关部门打交道时困难重重的感觉。前半段一直在担心这税报不上可咋办哇。/最喜欢每个人捧着自己心爱之物沉醉的那一幕，“你不是一个人”并不是一定要用另一个人来解的，也可以是宠物，爱好，甚至怪癖，那都是我们的船锚。
本来以为是虚无主义的狂欢…但最后发现，还是要去爱去包容啊。从各个宇宙不停寻求母亲渴望共鸣，不也是本来心中那份渴望的体现吗？再参透了虚无，也改变不了那份渴望的真实，也改变不了我们的情感真实地存在…实在是太感动了。
原来是九十年代无厘头港片贺岁档的定位。钦定中文片名应该是“天马行空”。阿尔法公公登场的时候，完全就是个r&m真人版既视。
人终究要解决的是此生此地的问题，看过太多的世界不过是走马观花。
5星我会给4.99颗星，10分我会给9.99分，电影呈现真的无与伦比，但每次看这种东亚母女情都让我又痛苦又恐惧，等到什么时候大家真的拍出来“妈妈真的就是不爱你，你的痛苦都是真实存在的，只有离开这个病态家庭你才能治好自己的病”我才能够坦然地给出我的满分。
神tm过瘾！天马行空都不足以形容影片的脑洞，刨去那些恰到好处，信手拈来的动作喜剧娱乐成分，以及那些让人爆笑的羊具豹局屎尿屁，影片触及到了之前所有电影从未触及到的境界（攻壳机动队1995、黑客帝国曾无限接近），当无限的everything、everywhere完全all at once，飓风可以娴静，核爆可以安宁，一片落叶可以狂躁和癫狂……生命和宇宙无限的选择和可能、人类的愉悦和尘埃的悲伤、蚍蜉的喧腾和石头的孤独、新生的蓬勃和毁灭的悲壮，时刻交织转换，形种相通，一切变得极富意义又毫无意义。就像那两块缄默的石头，在无声中用最肮脏的笑话来嘲笑人类的渺小与愚蠢。
如果停留在Joy走进贝果，石头滚下山坡那一刻就好了，放手也是一种和解。太喜欢石头静默的那一段了。
我们真的需要用这么多不断更新的技术形式去诠释那些陈旧的、俗套的故事吗？即使拥有穿越平行世界的能力，人类的想象力也依然只能局限于回归“美好家庭？” 我不理解，但很多梗确实挺好笑的。
在这个世界里，你可以很快乐。
没有一种生活不值得过。
宇宙跳跃这想法很有创意耶
简单总结：
神tm过瘾！天马行空都不足以形容影片的脑洞，刨去那些恰到好处，信手拈来的动作喜剧娱乐成分，以及那些让人爆笑的羊具豹局屎尿屁，影片触及到了之前所有电影从未触及到的境界（攻壳机动队1995、黑客帝国曾无限接近），当无限的everything、everywhere完全all at once，飓风可以娴静，核爆可以安宁，一片落叶可以狂躁和癫狂……生命和宇宙无限的选择和可能、人类的愉悦和尘埃的悲伤、蚍蜉的喧腾和石头的孤独、新生的蓬勃和毁灭的悲壮，时刻交织转换，形种相通，一切变得极富意义又毫无意义。就像那两块缄默的石头，在无声中用最肮脏的笑话来嘲笑人类的渺小与愚蠢。
我知道“父母皆祸害”才是东亚家庭的真实
看前半部分的时候：“卧槽，有点东西”，
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