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."
这他妈图个颜色不就是邻里街坊的犄角旮旯一箩筐破事？
以小见大，中间那段疫情突然来袭时的无措和物资匮乏拍得不错。结尾有点扯，尤其是女主对着镜头控诉政府的那段。
就冲最后导演在摄像机背后和金敏喜真实互动那一段，值了。那么简单的对话却无比动人，有摄人心魄之感。
疫情背景下的片子里，这部片子显得格外真诚朴素，用简单的视角和技巧就把人与人在疫情下的艰难和信任展现出来，朱迪科默的脆弱无助感也是我们最真实的写照，但从剧作本身来看，对于男女主之间的情感铺垫以及女主家人这两部分处理得有些潦草，导致后半段男女主感情递进的突然。为创作组真诚的表达初心所动容，希望国内有朝一日也会有这样气质的疫情剧情片。
模糊掉一切的边界，继而凸显随意之下的新一重意义，台前幕后，不过是一个整体的双重化身，你欣赏我，我怜惜你，我们吃拉面吧，我们去书店吧，我们喝酒吧，我们拍电影吧——水到渠成又自然动人。尤其喜欢用小小望远镜观察冬日街道的细节。
有点儿伪纪录片的感觉 特别真实的生活记录 隐藏在背后的情绪波动 对金的喜爱真是溢于言表
就是为了最后的那一抹彩色，充分说明了什么叫影片中一直在夸来夸去的“气质”，没金敏喜真看不下去。
伴随着人口老龄化的快速到来，学点自救护理是不是很重要？！
洪常秀宇宙，每组关系几乎都从过往影片/现实中延伸，成为某种前史，拍摄方法也如同讲述的，基于电影情境下，对演员真实状态的捕捉，又滑向某种心理的发散与印象。女小说家与女演员本就是一体两面，而最后小说家消失了，只剩金敏喜，心事重重，独上高楼。当然或许一切技法都比不上那段相爱之人间的凝视与被凝视。
排不进最优档的洪尚秀，但一定是最真挚的洪尚秀。这是写给金敏喜的一封情书。
这一部提问：故事可不可以没有悬念和复杂情节，简单自然且有真实感也能让人喜欢
这就是以“人”为中心和“以“国”为中心的电影的区别。隔着屏幕都感受到了新冠肺炎病毒的传播和紧张，每一个镜头都是为了人这个个体。又摆脱不了个人在国家、社会、体制面前轻如鸿毛。最后无奈的质问镜头问的绝不仅是英国！
電影成片很不錯，最後那個鏡頭劇本沒問題，Jodie演的沒問題，推鏡頭特寫也沒問題，就是太直接拍的太過了；Jodie在本片是生涯最佳表演無疑了，太真實了；26分鐘的一鏡到底看著太讓人揪心了，Jodie聲音都是抖的，情緒表達非常自然；男配演阿茲海默症患者演的也很不錯⋯⋯
烂片。其实根据前面铺垫，逐渐对片中小说家从一点点讨厌到部分共情，但她可拍不出来最后这么恶心的片段！别把自己的低俗安在女小说家头上！透过这个导演拍摄的女演员们，可以感知到他的狭隘和猥琐。而，侯麦，永远是站在尊重女性和平等的视角上的。奇怪近几年追捧他的都是什么类型的人。
看的第一部真正值得被记住的新冠病毒叙事片。整部电影都处在一种极其不稳定的震颤和摇晃的情感状态中，新冠病毒让养老院这个内部小环境迅速坍塌崩溃，人性在其中勉强艰难痛苦地支撑，体制加深了绝望中的绝望。频繁出现的失焦镜头直指了大量长期缺位的情感和品行，在荒郊的草坪上，歌声轻轻漫漫，痛苦的反弹尤为有力与浪漫
8/10.中间那一大段长镜头看的真让人焦心啊，女主的绝望写在脸上，崩溃在心里。在疫情期间英国的医疗体系第一个抛弃的大概就是养老院里的老人们，太惨了。最后朱迪科默对英国政府抗疫政策的质疑和谴责真是震耳欲聋啊。这时，一对比就能看出中国政府的抗疫政策有多么伟大，中国人民有多么幸运，能活下去才是最高的人权。
洪现在量产片子纯粹为了炫너무예뻐吧，无语了一部赛一部匮乏，一些前作魔力消失得无影无踪。瓣高贵影迷对其他独立导演吹毛求疵对洪百般吹捧的两幅面孔真是腐朽到惹人发笑
这才是《zg医生》的正确打开方式…而不是凑人头搞一堆无意义且莫名其妙的元素，自我陶醉，浪费资源，恶心观众…
不知不觉已经两年了，我感觉世界都麻木了。。。
金敏喜29分41秒背影出现。从摄像机走过去。一对三的左右构图，说也许不会再拍了。
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