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."
虽然叙事清晰流畅度上有瑕疵，惊吓点拼凑的略有破碎感，但这片基本水准是绝对过硬的，没有令成熟理智的影迷失望。各种惊吓桥段拍的非常地道，心理暗示、视觉残留等小巧思也颇具匠心。只是预告片里实在不该把阿清嫂扑面那段剪进去，严重影响了大众观影后对影片恐怖程度的评估，那本是影片最大的记忆点。另外，主角一行三人在村子里的遭遇拍的真的很好，诡异感层层叠加，氛围极佳。
不用去推敲合理性，只要跟著故事，享受就好。迷信跟愛情、政治一樣，都是一種抽象但又非常具有吸引力的信仰。
我真的入戏了。看完心里无比发毛，然后边害怕边好奇的去搜索有关电影的一切，又恐怖又神秘又有魅力。真实的代入感不仅仅是伪记录的拍摄手法这种小伎俩带来的，主要是因为影片对于这个宗教和佛母的设定细节太丰富，场景布置氛围营造又很到位，味太冲了。另外，评论里气急败坏打一星的观众越多，反倒越证明这部片的成功：你们当真了。
很是拖沓，而且小心思太多了，有时候伪纪录片里的恐惧还是需要直给，没有设计会显得更合理。这个佛母也是挺没出息的，活这么多年了就知道折腾人，下三滥。
7.5分，氛围不错，世界观完整，女主演技可以，我觉得高英轩才是男主哈哈哈，林敬伦都没有秀身材，浪费！记得不要看结尾的脸就行。
这伪纪录片的水准太差了，不仅仅使用了相机摄影，还有监控记录，故意消音，加了背景音乐，还有虫子特效太假。这些处理让这个伪纪录片的伪感太强了，我到后面已经把这个当剧情片看了，纪录感全靠女主时不时出现的絮叨，还不如昆池岩。里面民俗方面不如红衣小女孩和冥婚，但是故事套路还是一样的，还是要小确幸一把。里面人物逻辑混乱，行为动机不足，看着就很假，觉得最后的反转惊艳是没看过午夜凶铃么？如果说这片是女主剪的，那很符合她最后锤出脑震荡的调性。最后唯一不错的可能是密恐的展示吧，不过我看多了，掉牙想吃大白兔奶糖，藕臂想吃糯米藕片，不仅全线免疫，还看饿了。
7.2分，这部恐怖片至少没有让我失望，但也仅此而已。作为伪纪录片，某些画面明显出戏，很不成熟，剪辑给人一股凌乱感。但归根结底还是伪纪录片的黄金时代，《灵异咒》刚出的时候，许多人都以为是真的，但在《咒》这个时代，大家都已经知道是假的，伪纪录片以假乱真的初衷已经实现不了了。
還是忍不住感嘆，台灣藉由民俗文化、宮廟文化，已經打造出風格化和辨識度極高的恐怖片了。
细思极恐，剪辑缺陷选择性眼盲，个人五星。(含剧透)
看个恐怖片 就被下了诅咒。。。原来佛母也会剪辑。。。
制作还是有意思的，中国的驱魔与克苏鲁，妖魔邪魅，见者疯狂，但是后面稍微有些混乱，大家对整部电影就是用来诅咒观众的这块应该也会褒贬不一，但这就是看观众对此入戏几何了。
看一半因为觉得既无聊又不恐怖而去翻豆瓣，评论说最后晦气，那就还是不看完了啦
湾湾的恐怖片，氛围有了，也有被恶心到，但效果一般。伪纪录片式的处理，不同视角的不断切换，确实有几分惊喜，但看多了感觉也就如此。对于一个无神论者而言，只能是有惊无恐。（PS: 所以是某种病毒？）7.0/10
三星半，最高能的都在预告片，剧情跟真实事件关联度已经不大了。谁能想到2022年还会在电影里看到当年在天涯被科普的莲蓬乳，最后一帧太像紫水晶了（不是）。手机跟dv，行车记录仪，监控等，记录方式挺多的，就是有点乱，真正吓人的地方还是几个jump scare（摊手）。鬼打墙部分不错，隧道视频的伪民俗做的有意思，视觉残留这个设计很妙（也很欠打，视觉污染）。最后又是三个惹祸精搞出的一堆事，“干，又在谈恋爱”笑死
合着这个片子叫咒，它影片本身就真的是个给观众下的咒。真正恐怖的东西不在视觉上的恐怖，而在心理层面不可说的恐惧。一旦你真的信佛信神信咒，它就在心里种下了绵绵不绝的恐惧。
最终才做到了晦气满屏的效果。
★★★☆☆ “谨以此片纪念我的小天使。”（？）我怎么觉得，这才是此片最关键的画面。
自我感动，自我牺牲式的“爱”最终都会“自取灭亡”，任尔是谁。
满心欢喜看一部电影，却好像吃了一只苍蝇，晦气。
伪记录+互动，恐怖程度更进一步，高概念的华语恐怖片典型案例。一方面觉得导演和编剧拉观众下水的方式膈应人；另一方面觉得导演这种方式很聪明，成功的奏效了。
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