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."
平平淡淡。凯奇看着像美队是怎么一回事？丁家林还会说西班牙语，没想到
我爱的凯奇总算演了部好口碑的电影啦，之前虽然都是还债片，但演的也都不差啊。这一部影片算是讨巧的，和他本人超级契合。也只有他可以在银幕前把自己演的那么颓废。
我觉得拍一个凯奇这些年怎么拍烂片还钱的心路历程要更有趣。只有开头那点拍的符合预期。
抱著孩子去到醫院那場戲，姜棟元和李知恩對護士插科打諢說孩子是一個月大的時候，這戲劇的合理性和寫實性已經沒法看了。這簡直是導演對自己以往最大的背離（這樣身形的孩子怎麼可能是一個月大。而且可以讓觀眾相信能夠說服戲中的護士？）正如這片的架構全都是想當然的空中樓閣，無論警察，騙子，殺人犯，被遺棄的孩子，只要賦予他們一個合理的理由，都是被社會（家人）拋棄的角色，就能在挽救孩子這件事上共情，確實太想當然了，每個人物的動機都無法站住腳讓人信服。
Full of narcissistic cliché shit. But Paddington 2 is really good though.
五个寂寞的灵魂，就像五条直线在某一个点相交又相离。
牛逼坏了的尼古拉斯凯奇 这次扮演了自己 走投无路去富商的生日会讲笑话意外与CIA合作 美国真是无处不在CIA 从这部片子 凯奇要重新开始了
关灯的那场戏，可以说是斯派克·琼斯的「Her」之后，最触动我的「黑场」了。真正的爱，真正的情感，都是无法用眼睛看到只能用内心去感受的。这也是为什么摩天轮上的那场戏，是枝裕和不让我们看她的眼睛。其实导演挡住的不是素英的眼睛，而是我们的眼睛，挡住那双眼睛的，也不是东洙的手，而是我们的评判。我们的评判挡住了我们的眼睛。我们需要像在摩天轮的顶端一样，从更高的视角，用心灵去看世界，去感受光亮，成为光亮，成为滴落在她手心净化人的雨，成为片尾潮起潮落始终包容人的海，而不是躲在阴暗角落一直图谋诛人心的刀。
抱著孩子去到醫院那場戲，姜棟元和李知恩對護士插科打諢說孩子是一個月大的時候，這戲劇的合理性和寫實性已經沒法看了。這簡直是導演對自己以往最大的背離（這樣身形的孩子怎麼可能是一個月大。而且可以讓觀眾相信能夠說服戲中的護士？）正如這片的架構全都是想當然的空中樓閣，無論警察，騙子，殺人犯，被遺棄的孩子，只要賦予他們一個合理的理由，都是被社會（家人）拋棄的角色，就能在挽救孩子這件事上共情，確實太想當然了，每個人物的動機都無法站住腳讓人信服。
一直以为是凯奇准备拍个文艺片来解构自己，有点像灾难艺术家那样，没想到最后还是变成好莱坞之前最擅长的荒诞喜剧了，但还是情怀满满，有趣的地方是真的有趣，很讨影迷喜欢。
7.0/10。因为了帮一婴儿暂存箱里的男婴寻找新父母而引发的一系列风波，反应了普通人生活的不易、世道的险恶与他们的善良。影片试图在传统故事片（从大量特写/配乐/煽情、各种剪辑语法等可看出）和自然主义电影（从非常平淡的叙事戏剧性可看出）间找平衡，但这次影调明显失衡压倒性地偏向于传统故事片，导致影调比较紊乱。不过，本片影像最后的总体观感似乎也称不上烂片。另外，本片作为角色导向电影对人物间的关系似乎处理地并不细腻较突兀/套路。
戏中戏中戏的套娃模式结构上比较有趣，作为浪子回头的凯奇洗白之作，既有自嘲也有豁达，玩得尽兴。
整体的观感还挺像《小偷家族》的，也是是枝裕和熟悉的温情题材，所有的人都是一体两面，道德和法律也通常都不是平稳的站在天秤的两端。
感觉节奏不太好，差几口气。这创意本应该更好一些。
自我调侃的尼古拉斯.凯奇有一种别样的魅力，搞笑的地方常常从现实跳进影片里，来回切换更加有趣。其实后半段就觉得这应该是戏中戏，不然中间那些无厘头简直离谱，不过总体来说，终于从低潮走出来的凯奇，值得掌声。
凑合吧，算是近七八年里凯奇主演的电影里还能看地下去的
1.5 / 偶尔有些美妙时刻但整体依然很糟糕。 前段清汤寡水，既没有人物状态也没有信息量，演员也基本照着模板各自棒读；中段视角依然混杂摇摆，人物关系的联结只能漂浮；后段要上价值上情感就只能频频扶额甚至噗嗤笑出声。最重要的是没有《小偷家族》里那种距离，几乎一切信息都是即时传递即时反应来明摆着拖长剧情，所以到头来一个需要跨越空间距离去监听的警察也同样能轻而易举地“夺走”孩子。金棕榈后的是枝裕和确实是这个水平，看完想罚是枝裕和看河濑阿姨的《晨曦将至》一百遍。BTW“比起生完丢弃掉，生之前就杀掉罪会更轻吗”这种台词，建议在真的有做一些社会批判的时候再写出来，不然真的只想“呸”欸。这么悬浮的一个剧本却要大义凛然轻飘飘地说出这种话，真的是笑死人了……
这个概念无疑是好的
调侃自己过气的现实
还可以，说真的还有点感动，虽然不算凯奇粉，但是还挺感慨的
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