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."
导演的童年回忆改编 60年代宗教信仰导致北爱尔兰内乱 有人留守 有人离开 走上不同的人生道路 有罗马的影子 也是黑白电影 剧情太平淡了 冲突也不够激烈 并没有觉得时代变化对小人物产生了影响 而且用小孩子的视角看上去 更显得没有事件感和年代感 总之 我不喜欢 看得昏昏欲睡
私人乡愁故事。go, go now, don't look back, I love you
电影院听原声真是太伤害观影体验了😭 我不信我英语那么差一定是他们口音的锅。 去看之前只知道是讲一个街区的故事，也做好了被感动的准备，没有太多的背景知识了解加挺不懂让我对街区冲突的起承转合都完全不明白。但是这样也似乎贴合了导演想表现的儿童视角，童年为什么会有冲突不记得不知道，只知道妈妈会想骑士一样举起盾牌保护我，爸爸和哥哥在坏人来的时候会保护我和妈妈，暗恋的女孩互相交换礼物道别（虽然很学霸的送了我数学教辅）。 在这样的家庭里相信不论去哪里生活都会过得好。最后三行话看到直接泪目，坐在新西兰小文艺电影院看电影的我，那一刻究竟是stay的（对比大批回国的留学生），还是left的，还是lost的呢？ 大概这部片子最适合的就是移居他处远离故土的人了。
电影试图通过一个小男孩的视角来展现那个年代的社会环境，但是却被限制在这一视角无法展现深入，对缺乏相关背景信息的观众十分不友好，总是处在一种似懂非懂的迷惑状态，同时整部电影缺少一条明确的主线，更像是童年记忆片段的拼凑，但是至少这些片段是饱含情感的，很喜欢几段人物的特写镜头，很有视觉冲击力；另外一个很大的问题在于过多的bgm，很大程度上破坏了黑白影像的质感，甚至还有一种审美疲劳的廉价感，但好在主角们的表演还算不错，太喜欢Judy Dench在后半段的表现了，Caitriona女主戏也很棒
疑惑的镜头和疑惑的色彩运用。并不能好好回忆的回忆录
就那一小片街区景来回用，那黑白不就是掩盖布景的假么，最大的问题情感跳戏啊，是一会儿感受孩童的天真，一会儿又体会父母的无奈。
去过贝尔法斯特，对那里印象很好，有种伤感和忧郁的情调。。。至于电影，更像是导演对自己过去的回忆，回忆中的一切都很美，哪怕是纷乱嘈杂的社会动荡，都有着属于他个人的印记。
整体太松散了。演员阵容太强大，不明白为什么编剧反而得奖。
一开场就是《罗马》名场面，也不得不带着对比的眼光看下去了，孩子的视角纯真可爱，小演员演技担当是本片之福，但因为视角所限，社会的动乱和父母的争执都是断裂的叙述，无从知道动乱从何来，也不清楚母亲在洗衣粉事件之前是怎么同意移居的，全片只有淡淡的忧伤情绪是完满的，而怀旧歌曲和彩色光影密度之高，说是导演私人化的讲述不为过，感觉就像一篇小学生日记。（想了两天改不及格）
2022.02.17一个人在蓝湾看。以小城窥大世：生存的困，时代的苦，小情的囧，大情的难。两个点：爷爷去世的萨克斯，88岁Dench最后的“Go. Go now. Don't look back”及门后垂首，以及小尾巴“For the ones who stayed. For the ones who left. And for all the ones who were lost.” 3星半。
是背景本该不堪但拍得非常甜蜜温馨的私人记忆。爹妈是恩爱俊男靓女有摩擦能和好能携手进退，爷爷奶奶幽默善良大气还能倾听会表达，就算不是这卡司而是素人，也是极理想的家了。/街景的纸板感有点太强。有一瞬间我甚至都觉得很狗镇了。也许可以理解为一种风格吧。/开头结尾、几个观影观剧时刻是彩色，很工整的创意。/今年黑白的真的不少啊。/三星半。
大型室外情景剧既视感，小男主互动角色，除了爷爷奶奶两个有点人性（妈妈也有点情绪），其他角色感觉都是棋子。家里和街道场景太缺乏生活痕迹了，暴动完路边整洁的比刚铺完沥青还新，可能导演对自己的童年回忆加了超级滤镜吧
和爱尔兰出身的英国朋友一起去看的，故事的情绪很私人，我完全体会不到，顺便问了朋友许多爱尔兰历史。
同样是讲成长的故事，美国的成长和日本的成长就是风格迥异啊哈哈，挺喜欢这部的调调的，镜头感太棒了，小朋友的演技也很牛逼
3.5很明顯就是模仿羅馬的作品，應該說艾方索柯朗拍出羅馬後，一堆大導演便開始拿自己長大的地方進行創作，構築自己心中的羅馬，但其中什麼都模仿，且最沒有自己風格的英國導演，便是咱們的肯爵爺。說到這也不是想要說貝爾法斯特很難看，跟尼羅河相比我反而欣賞這部很多，愛爾蘭1960年代末的緊張氣氛，搭配一個小男孩的成長故事，看到兔嘲男孩、月升王國的影子，家鄉動盪不安，最後舉家遷移至英國的掙扎過程，構成一個告別家鄉的成長之旅，喜歡布萊納置入的迷影情懷，索爾漫畫置入也令人會心一笑，但是多重視角顯的有些混亂，看完並沒有給我種這小男孩是全片主角的感覺，反而媽媽還比較像主角。傑米道男好久不見，總算又接到一個好角色，茱蒂丹契片尾特寫是入圍女配的關鍵。微拙劣的模仿羅馬作，但主題是動人的，看完還是得說：布萊納資源太好了。
三百年根源的对立，二十世纪后三十年的流血冲突，几次在内战边缘。政治，民族，宗教，这些蔓延在街道社区的仇恨，隔阂，冲突，是笼罩在每一个离开或者留下来的人一生之中的。直到今年还在因脱欧的爱尔兰海边界问题，芬党领导人的防疫问题而引发冲突流血及恐吓。比照电影，是无论如何，都不能以轻佻，软弱来批评的。这种视角的选择，是艰难前进的和平进程中，可贵的真挚感情。
漂浮的情感，Too much songs。donan的男配Buzz我不懂。
的确有点像《罗马》，都是黑白，都是回忆性质，但整体质量还是有差距
Aye! 和Nancy在garden theater看的！没有字幕好多听不太懂😅但是还是很好看！| 电影院看见了预告片感觉很棒 竟然是北爱尔兰故事 本精神北爱尔兰人不会错过的...
用黑白的影像呈现出一个9岁小男孩童年在家乡贝尔法斯特那段改变人生的过往。我个人觉得一些曾经背井离乡，迁徙或移民到其他地方生活的人会特别有共鸣。特别是已经进入中年、老年的人，生活已经稳定下来，更容易回顾往昔与家人和邻里相处的时光
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