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."
额…………令人疲惫的不是视觉奇观也不是奇幻设定，是作为“精准受众”从影片第一分钟起就逃离不开的精神教化和情感压迫，好累！我们拒绝妈的全宇宙，就跟我们要拒绝李焕英、拒绝青春变形记一样；而在这样的命题之下，我想，不止是东亚女性和华裔母女，如果换成男性的故事也不会有太大差别甚至可能更糟（毕竟母女还能涕泗横流的拥抱是吧？x）。于是，我们更遑论片中的多重宇宙进程设置在影片物理进度条上的杂乱排布，那些毫不克制的美学陈列，以及试图唤起观众对演员本人背景记忆的努力，都使得人物的情感追索在创作者喧嚣的企图心之下山崩地裂，不堪一击
好像近年都有一两部处理类似议题的中外华语片对照，19 年是《慕一伟》和《别告诉她》，21 年是《宇宙探索编辑部》和《瞬息全宇宙》。剧本用高概念包裹一个极其坚固的情感点，由此延伸爆发出充沛的想象力，好莱坞在此基础上用工业水平展现出全面碾压的势态。
吊打最近几年一系列以东亚女性/家庭为主题浮皮潦草蹭热度的同类电影，一边是nothing matters，一边是i still want to be with you，母女的百年战争背后都有一个巨大的黑洞，她们有权逃避，但是却不。
有mommy issue的我看到泪流满面，隔壁被爱包围长大的老李除了笑外面色平静。
看看隔壁Morbius, Lost City, Uncharted之流，票房扑街的背后是灵感的枯竭。这几年好莱坞热衷于拥抱各种主义、各种套路、各种公式，已经逐渐被反噬。很久没有在大荧幕上看到这种喷薄而出的创意和天马行空了。把东方元素演绎的又丝毫不做作，把简单内核描绘的丝毫不刻意。如果今年能有比这更好的片子，那该是得有多好。
杨紫琼真的是太厉害了，非常棒的表演，完全瓦解儒家家庭价值观，去他妈的多重宇宙，我要我想要的生活。
用天马行空的方式，讲了一个关于包容、理解和放手的故事，但对我来说，共情度为零。那些炫技式的剪辑，杂耍般的动作场面，还有直白的鸡汤台词，都像劣质冰激凌一样，似乎香气扑鼻，但口味廉价，毫无回味。
形式讨巧但落点很俗，大煽情更是duck不必。但那些重口味的桥段真的还蛮😌😃😹😍lol
爱是唯一一个穿越时间和空间的东西，世界的真相也许只是虚无，但生活的的真相也许只是吵架后的一次拥抱。每当看到这种电影我都会哭，因为我没有拥有，所以我很羡慕。
没法贴标签的一部电影，贼拉好，最后哭死，我就觉得爱很了不起，最没用的就是最酷的。
没想到还活着的时候可以看到这样的电影。想法超前，执行一流，情感密度和设计复杂程度都是前所未有的浓厚，条线布局是目前看过最高的。选角也是很惊喜，在我以为杨紫琼没什么戏路的时候居然又打破了我的预设。不断推翻再推翻。是这几年看过最牛逼的电影了，各个方面。
我的生活被卡在双相频繁发作的抽离状态里很久了，所以我很能理解Jobu Tupaki 将一切世俗的成功、正确、框架和碎片化信息塌缩成一个贝果并得出nothing matters的那种无意义的自毁，“如果什么都不重要，那么一事无成的人生带来的痛苦和罪恶感都会消失”式向死而生的认知障碍和虚妄无力，以及穿越无数个平行宇宙寻求Evelyn感同身受的偏执孤独。Evelyn的困境在于她一事无成的要强和不愿承认的后悔，无数个平行宇宙的天马行空，本质上是通过无数次的“what if”来对现实摆烂和逃避问题，也因为她的自尊心和自我需求太强从而陷落到另一个极端的精神困顿，才需要Waymond 那种be kind的方式用世俗的快乐与宽容的爱来进行自我舒压。这种用外化的天马行空描述深层次精神状态的创作方式，很是佩服。
从母女两人在甜甜圈对戏后，整部片子的主旨逐渐明朗起来，依然是“宇宙终极难题”：人活着的意义是什么？女儿思索无果遁入虚无，认为你我皆是everything又是nothing，只不过是一颗石头。母亲最后给出的答案是人生本来就是无意义的，生命的意义是自己赋予的，片子给出的人生意义就是爱，就像片中具有最大象征意义的塑料眼睛，本身只是一种有机化合物，但人为地赋予了“萌”的属性，有了人性，有了感情。there are no rules！
好嫉妒这个天马行空的想象力，太灵了太妙了，我边看边想能拍出这种东西的人真的和我长着一样的简陋大脑吗，太牛了。
年度十佳之三 从中看出太多东西了 但最重要的是如何为了一个具体的东西抛弃手握住的所有可能性 现代稀缺 但这似乎就是我们自己的父母 “因为一无所成 所以潜力所达可以做到任何事” 前期只是在铺垫如果女主可以 会怎样 反派因为可以所以怎样 但后来就变成了如果我无所不能 但我还是选择那个最确定的珍贵的东西 只能选择洗衣店和经历一切后选择洗衣店太不一样了/无论反派还是女主 每个人的愿望都是那么朴素 女儿想要母亲共情 从此不再孤单 丈夫用善意对抗世界所以被视为软弱 人们用看似或笨拙或狡黠的方式交流 只是想离身边人更近一点而已 而爱也被看作宇宙终极奥义 就像能力可以multiuniverse 爱可以普度众生 也可只分给特定的人/临近结尾女主靠怪癖驯服所有人给我看笑了 只要找对人 没有哪种爱是不对的
有个镜头杨紫琼看电影的时候，那部电影的导演叫“Daniels”，因为这部双导演都叫Daniel
可以打六星吗？我觉得Daniels的电影应该单独开个分类叫Acid Movie，因为1)居然可以如此形象地讲清很多抽象的概念 2）那么多鬼畜脑洞是怎么想出来的？？？（热狗人进化史那段直接笑炸）但是常常是笑完下一秒又被戳中哭点。跟瑞士军刀男一样这部仍然讲了很多精神世界和世俗生活之间的平衡挣扎与和解。东亚文化背景下的精神自由更艰难，你以为可以纵横宇宙达到nothing matters的境界了，其实还得回头看一眼有没有得到父母的认可。
吸引人的是形式，撇撇嘴的是内核，没有这个形式，肯定不会想吃这个内核。而且形式还不堪一击，让女儿崩溃的，在妈妈身上不过是一晃神。生活就是九苦一甜，“甜完了还是苦”被“苦完了还有甜”打败了，活着的人都欢庆这伟大胜利。
讲真，绕这么大一个圈，只为了讲母女关系的和解，真没必要，母女矛盾也不必上升到宇宙空间才能引起注意吧，何况故事讲得还不咋地。
在我期望极高的情况下依然超出预期。绝对是越往后看越好看的电影，前半段简直就是吃了兴奋剂的沃卓斯基全家桶，而在快速剪辑把现实生活撕得粉碎之后，当观众已经被奇想、巧思、梗们晃晕之时，却又可以把碎片们重新拾起来呈现出来。“在普通人生活中寻找奥义”这一套已经不新鲜了，但花了大半部电影剪碎重拼的日常生活万花筒把这个俗气的道理展现得美妙绝伦。我总是认可那些试图给出答案而不只是提出问题的野心，它提出的问题那么大给出的答案又那么小，但论证过程太美妙了到结尾我已经觉得我可以接受任何答案。以及我绝对没想到传统的一代唐人街故事可以和平行宇宙科幻融合得那么完美，我将此归功于导演编剧的巧思。看完就回想，一个关于选择的故事，主角当然应该是一代移民；需要时空警察角色，但又不能与琐碎的日常生活割裂，还有什么比国税局更合适…
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