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."
很重的土腥味和书卷气。神秘不足、符号过多，如果能延续开篇几十秒的火焰…整个电影都会燃烧起来！鬼魅浮生是导演偶得佳作么？！
视听还不错，故事神神叨叨的啥玩意|补完长评区大神的文章+1星，原来是个传统的骑士故事，背叛了所有“五德”，只要结尾愿意赴死就可以成为骑士，故事很古典。#sfm
一个纨绔子弟的成“士”之路，要看懂其中的隐喻象征、考验关卡，势必要了解原著故事及相关背景（或看别人的解读）。导演的改编依然注重形式，并没有什么新的概念或想象。有些东西并没有“为什么”，就是“设定”。影片中的章节小标题，感觉有点浪费了。另外那条出场不少的腰带，略显尬尴。
天啊 浅薄的我完全没看懂这部电影。。。。。。。
今年目前为止看到最好看的黑白影像。前后2个故事联系不足，可能是我没get到吧。
以未完成的作品作赋，以黑白的历史影像成诗，以蒙太奇的记忆进行纪念。告别在过往战争中的遭遇，告别在迷途里依然真挚的兄弟情谊。
看到开头手写的“A mio fratello Vittorio”就哭了。九十岁的前辈导演静静地说男孩子年轻时总觉得一切都关于自己，都将属于自己。估计不会拿到金熊，但也不重要，只希望未来还能再看到他拍一两部。肯定会入选2022对我而言重要的电影。
被砍头时的几次躲闪显得真实可爱。
「罗伊安德森」式的开场，以路易基·皮兰德罗的骨灰为引，塔维亚尼讲述的依旧是关于「思念」的故事。黑白部分惊为天人，当骨灰从封闭的公墓中移出，骆驼牌香烟比剧作家的尊严更为实际；不愿与它同乘一架飞机的乘客，在逃离前却以深躬聊表敬畏；魂归故里之时，需占用了婴儿的棺椁才可容身；不明所以的民众，以孩童之玩笑奔走相告聊以取乐。张力十足的镜头语言与穿插其中的真实影像拼接造就了无与伦比的历史美感，非常出众。与之相比《钉子》的故事则更偏向于「混淆视听」类电影。即仅靠画面与色彩的视觉冲击来支撑空虚且苍白的艺术创作。这也像极了由「真实主义」转向「怪诞现实主义」并获得诺贝尔文学奖的主人公路易基·皮兰德罗，虚无且矫情。三星全给前2/3。
一次骨灰之旅，一部未竟之作，前半是与肉身告别，作家的身后事充满灰暗，后半是向生命致意，作家的作品光彩如常。“今天的少年，明天即耄耋”沉重的主题注入90分钟的轻巧体量，入戏未深即已终了，恰如人生之一瞬而过。
期待了一年的电影，不失所望，离奇鬼魅，又是一场造梦之旅。高文逃走我满脸懵逼，看到结局才松了一口气。Every hero has a journey,我们都在成长。/二刷，光影美轮美奂，尤其夜里湖边那场戏,今年最佳了。真的，得在电影院看
特别拧巴的一部电影。Lowery为了让当代观众理解角色，把Sir Gawain the virtuous的journey of chivalry改编成coming of age故事。改编很难说成功。一面极力撇清传统saga和coming of age叙事不惜穿插荒诞讽刺，一面不得不忠于原著情节用神秘主义风格把saga情节糊弄过去。最终coming of age变成了一条直到最后一幕通过颅内simulation才能完成的陡峭曲线，路上的道德挑战在乳臭未干的小骑士身上也失去了在原著里与virtuous knight的张力。slow pan再好看也救不回来。
6.5/10。一首童话诗，极美的装置艺术电影。剧情孱弱到可以忽略，红蓝黄绿色彩纷呈，放空脑袋听着配乐享受即可。我很爱这部透露出的诡谲氛围感，上路吧想成就伟业的年轻人，上路吧不问归期。“目击众神死亡的草原上野花一片，远在远方的风比远方更远。”
@Berlinale72 Friedrichstadt Palast @2022.2.29
很美丽的童话，爆笑了好几次，跟想象的大红狗真的不太一样
@Berlinale72 Friedrichstadt Palast @2022.2.29
大型古裝奇幻山路電影，光影拍的真的很漂亮很有特點，但故事有什麼寓意麼？沒看出來…
极其反对所谓的观影「门槛论」，文学的影像化归根到底是一个大众化、通俗化的过程，面对未曾读过原著的观众，创作者应当是以更下沉的心态去尝试在媒介转换的过程中设定更低的准入门槛，由此获得更多的认同。但即便如此，这样的一部电影也只能算得上是无关痛痒的情节复刻，间杂骑士文学的文本特质，佐以超现实桥段增加「高级感」，却丧失了创作者本身的能动性，因而观众亦有权利去批评，毕竟他们想要的远多于此。
其实观众对亚瑟王和他继承者的故事没关系，没看过他们的民间诗歌也没关系。有隐喻也不是问题，但通篇密不透风都是隐喻，半点出气口都不留就是个问题。其实...通篇都是隐喻也能拍得很好，这就要看导演的功力了，动如《黑客帝国》静如《少年派的奇幻漂流》都是通篇隐喻，就撑得起来。总而言之，没金刚钻别揽瓷器活。
根据爱尔兰流传诗篇改编而来，爱尔兰式的清新和魔幻。理解的话也并不算难猜，真正的坚定不在于腰带咒语的加持，后者有二层含义：宗教神秘（上帝的力量束腰）和骑士的道德仪文。但是被玷污了，不管是信仰还是道德，就说人的诡诈只能够自我欺骗而无法挽救命运。熊人城堡那段似乎很熟悉，天国旅程书里有类似描述，就是要把走人生路上的人拦住之类的。当然摆脱了所有拦阻，高文最后总要达到终点。然后就在落头的瞬间，跳转出人生就是一场旅程，历经千难万苦，到头来坦然接受反而获得救赎。反转出真正要表达的意图，这种“励志”其实也没能免俗。
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