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."
2. 開著的門。互捧互退的危險和真誠互融——行動與言語的創造即真心，兩個人的「真心」是文字如何堆疊聲音如何振動溫度如何流動都逸出個人（的啟動）並包圍之成為新的模樣，無法成形還能牽著絲。每時每刻都可以微小地成為「新人」。
偶然的介入，日常的戏剧性，以及想象的诗意。
一种短片集的典范，有坚固的理念贯穿在三个故事中。除了延续一贯的对情感关系的去道德化，在形式上更设置了三个功能各异的zoom in，相较洪片里变焦的泛滥，滨口用之以转换时空、强调信息、或是切换情境，重新发掘出这种古老技艺的潜力。同时，为了强调这三个叙事重音，并不用繁复的室内调度，多通过密集的对话做文本翻转和跃迁，演员直视镜头的正反打简直勾魂摄魄。想想滨口在15、16年已经分别捧出两部代表作（《欢乐时光》《天国还很遥远》），分别标志他在长短片领域的两个巅峰，此番出手更是举重若轻，彻底展现出游刃有余的创作活力。43岁的他已经迎来了超新星爆发期。#40th Istanbul Film Festival#
年度十佳。滨口龙介凭此一部，足以超越绝大部分的洪常秀，甚至连招牌的洪式推拉都用得更有趣。偶然：连襟姐妹/错发邮件/误认同窗；想象：“这时对那时错”/香艳诵读/角色扮演。三个故事结构浑然天成，文本与影像都颇具力度，如此美妙的观影体验，绝对是值得一再回味的幸福时刻！
一边哭一边被治愈；爱是魔法，会消失的那种。滨口龙介真🉑️ ，这一部情节对话表演都是大师级的
80/100。#IKSV#滨口龙介舍弃了《欢乐时光》里的絮絮叨叨，丢掉了《夜以继日》的无病呻吟，用极具精巧的拍摄手法为我们讲述了几个有关于女性的小故事，可能手法上并不能为所有人接受，但情感足够真挚动人。或许在人生的某一刻，你也是彷徨于过往情丝中的纠结者，你也是想逃脱自身缺陷却又一直出不去的迷失者，你也是想理清曾经反反复复不止不休的执念的不甘者。但当你经历了命运之轮的吹拂，当你在想象与现实的交界线上突然认清了未来的路，当你终于在破碎的记忆里看清了那道如何继续走下去的明灯，所有的幸福和愉悦，也许就在下个街角等着你。我们的存在，就是对无声时间的最好宣战。
第三部窃译为《相逢何必曾相识》，有种艳阳下想哭的氛围：在错误“相逢”中说出20年来遗憾未曾说出口的表白，想起暗恋对象的名字，对生活失去了热情的日常态却从邂逅的陌生人身上重获温暖，在热烈的拥抱中感受到爱的偶然和诗意的想象。
确实怪“洪尚秀”的，但洪尚秀更散漫更悲观，那是我喜欢洪尚秀的地方。
在应该笑的地方，全场哄然大笑，在应该静的时候，全场寂静伴随着参差的啜泣声。贾玲应该无法超越自己的处女作了，和她那些匠气十足想挠观众胳肢窝一般逼人发笑却没法让人笑的小品相比，这个电影完完全全是以极其充沛热烈的感情引发的共鸣，就像古代攻城门时一群人扛着巨木撞门一般，导演用她浓烈的感情一次次撞击观众的心门，而这样的题材这样的剧本这样的故事没有再用一次的机会了。喜剧元素只是巧妙点缀在贾玲强烈的愿望之中。我还是好喜欢冯巩的“我想死你们了”，这绝对是2010年之后，冯巩说的最搞笑的一次。
穿越剧形式的亲情戏，欢乐不足，感人有余。结尾的逆转一下子调动了观众的情绪，通过回忆来煽情是比较常见的手法，感觉情感有点过满而溢出了，这应该是有着贾玲自己的真情实感。感人便足矣，没人会注意冷特之类的角色是否有存在的意义，沈腾为啥要占据海报一席位的理由。高票房主要是因为遇到了长达一年新片寥寥无几的时期，再加上同行衬托的共同作用。
滨口龙介最有意思的地方在于他电影里的情感实在是太丰富了 夜以继日里面的人尽管如此面无表情 却有非常intense的情感 这真的是太神奇了 这部电影也如此 人物的每一个决定都受制于突如其来、无以名状的情感的支配 不知从何而来的情感 像自然中的东西一样 像河流 像风 像暴雨 突然就来了
伤害了你让我更受伤害，你和她之间的魔法也重新让失去了你的时间蒸发不见；开门阅读的纯洁美好，一个字母的人生变道，用一个吻和一张名片来复仇；在连悲伤都不被允许的生活里，不要浪费一次错误的邂逅，扮演一个像自己的陌生人，想起一个忘记已久的名字……和滨口龙介前作比起来，似乎有点太美好浪漫了，也不错！
当然，另外两个故事其实也都很契合偶然与想象的主题，前男友与闺蜜一见钟情，原本去“色诱”的女学生被老师折服，却因为输错的邮箱地址改变了二人生活轨迹。借助导演的叙述，确实看到了不一样的人生。
最喜欢第三个故事。时间的列车上过客匆匆，总有些离别难以释怀，我永远无法再见的老朋友啊，如果某时某地，某个路人的面孔让你偶然想起了我，请给他一个友善的微笑吧。
他几乎所有的故事核拎出来都是特别俗的东西，但只有他介入，才能既高度入世又鬼魅幽森地故事拎出来。他的台词像杨德昌的戏那样句句戳心，但从社会批判的浅显预设里跳出来，一头扎进的是人类情感的深水。这人太聪明了。
底子还是小品而非电影。催泪效果因为欠缺共同经历而不及预期，不过虽然没看哭也并不妨碍这是部好电影，比唐探三要强很多。贾玲第一次做导演把控还是不错的，也又一次证明优秀的喜剧演员无一不是深刻的。沈腾的喜剧功力已然登峰造极了，只要出场便有笑点。 春节档观影也暂时告一段落，票真的太贵了😅
女人之间的爱因为相互理解而更深。城市清洁真的很重要，同样一场戏在我国街头拍不会有纯洁感。
又一部masterpiece！ 濱口龍介完全是天才，只有他會這樣拍片，帶著極強的野心和極度的自信，可以說是革新式的創作手法。他有說過自己喜歡楊德昌 喜歡一一，也常有人這樣對標，還有洪尚秀，但 不是，他完全是超脫了他們，只能說是城市景觀會給人類似的感受，生活在這二十年來去也沒多少變化，歡樂時光裡還有場景和配角的推動，到這邊整個就靠主角的對話帶領劇作帶領觀眾。這一次沒有歡樂時光裡的自由發揮，基本完全劇本復刻，他說之前培訓演員就是不斷的讀劇本，直到深刻。當然形式這些之外，內容也是重要的，其實是三個故事都在揭示每個人不為大多數人知道的那一面，他不審判 愛惜每一個角色，也在包容人的複雜。「偶然與想像」這名字很好啊，在一些巧合中創造出永恆，這裡的百轉千回比最初的一切更加驚心動魄 深刻烙印。
短篇小说剧作家啊！滨口写对话和互文太强了，选的演员也灵动。这不比夜以继日好？文学性这么强，有什么必要学韩国男拍三角恋？滨口的文本能力如果展开了，能把洪尚秀吊起来打。再来一次超好，为了不错过地靠近彼此两者都在扶梯上上上下下，编程师失业的未来，元戏剧，两人在对话，关系中隐身的另外两人却呈现在彼此身上......开着的门（黎，是你吗）在教授办公室的部分，色诱文学教授却被教授的某种文学折倒，朗读的内容与实施的行动成了完美的互文，两人之间亦师亦友的对话展现出文学教授真文学，不是草包，女人是真突出，不是自命不凡。两者的欲望得到确认，引诱以另一种形式完成，阴差阳错导致正确后果又耻又日式。要硬要拿洪尚秀来碰瓷，也只有三角关系的尴尬比较相似，而且洪尚秀太直男了......
它可以是魔法里，女主最后对着施工的城市街景拍照，因为每段过往最后都会被新的建筑替代，只有那些泛黄的照片才是过去的记忆；
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