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."
《正发生》
这是一部恐怖片！一种只会缠上女人的病，一种把女人变成家庭主妇的病。
如果没有结尾部分贾静雯说她听到瀑布的声音这段强行意象植入的戏，我觉得这是去年最佳华语片。深深地感觉到主创者以极大的温柔与诚挚去构建一个妄想症精神病人往下坠落的过程中懵懂抵抗的过程——无法不被贾静雯的面容所打动，几乎落泪，呆滞、恍惚、低沉、落寞、惊恐的状态中蕴蓄着回归常态的冲动，同时又带有过去美好时光的一缕明媚。华语片里再没有见过比这更真实丰富动人的精神病人角色。贾静雯那位病友演不好，没有病人样。3.5
大量主观过肩镜头，焦点也多在女主上，表现内缩，凝视与被凝视；政治使个人困境和痛苦隐形，文字比现实有效力；这片任谁看了不厌男，但也庆幸自己是一名女性，有无数与痛苦共眠的时刻；绝望bgm
即使很多血腥场面被删掉，还是能感觉到痛苦。
片子一直对时间的强调让Anne就像陀所写到的等待被吊死的人，她的心理在大环境和小环境的不断挤压中不断被剥削，这种剥削也渗透到画面之外，产生极度窒息的观感。而后段直面的堕胎场面更能引发极端的生理不适，但这不是奇观，这是女人们所经历过的血淋淋的现实。
有很多暗示，但深挖又嫌没劲；仔细想来可能是因为故事本事的平庸性（trivial），而也正是happening导致了这一事件的必然平庸。抱着看《钛》的心情进入影院，没想到却走了和钛完全不同的极端。一端极度展露身体，性，皮肤，血液；一端却极度展现氛围，情感，及连续性。是一部一气呵成的电影，但或许将平庸描写得太过平庸了。
悟出了钟孟宏的套路：情节走向针锋相对的关键时刻插入风景空镜头以制造深沉感。
1，堕胎的镜头实在是不敢看了，太残忍太疼。2，我之前得了一种病，只会攻击女人的病，会让女人变成家庭主妇的病。
就像阳光无法普照每片大地，而瀑布之水无法洗涤每个心灵。真正意义上一部把后疫时代拍进电影的华语片，从事情发生的突然，母亲的精神世界溃烂，再到如同日式鸡汤片的心灵治愈，她的世界崩塌了一次，当一切都最好的时候，何其残忍再崩塌一次。后疫时代女性的精神状况都在贾静雯身上找得到，她的表演好到不像话，之于《智齿》的刘雅瑟，之于《我的姐姐》张子枫，再之于《兰心大剧院》巩俐，崩塌而自救，耳边传来的轰隆声，泛滥河水将你我冲倒。
镜头语言和故事都不算十分新颖，但是妙在借历史呼应当下的女权运动，影片探讨的堕胎问题，是法律问题，而今更多的是道德问题，但不变的是其中女性所承担的种种压力，不管是个人自由和前途受阻还是面临着人性的拷问还是随之而来的荡妇耻辱，这些确实就像女主角说的“这是一种只会攻击女性的病”。女主角身上正发生的，是整个社会对待女性态度的一种缩影，也更是所有觉醒的或未觉醒的、发声的或未发声的女性的一面镜子，女主角两位朋友的形象很有意思，一个是典型的媚男，另一个则是心持正义却犹豫不决，但是后者那一句“欲望比羞耻来得更强烈”，真的是非常有力度，直面欲望，才不会被羞辱的锁链束缚，而这是整个社会需要学习和明白的，这也是“正发生”的意义所在。结尾真够震撼人心，大特写和摇晃镜头以及一直铺陈着的打击乐节奏终于一齐起了作用。
一部血淋淋的自传，贡献了与《女人的碎片》开头分娩戏同样真实揪心的几处堕胎戏。手持摄影近景跟拍，4:3画幅将人物困于压迫空间，屏幕上出现的时间数字在提醒即将到来的审判日，观众作为旁观者无从协助，只能在晃动的镜头下紧随安妮经历这场残忍磨难。比生理痛感更加焦灼的是心理摧残，父权社会剥夺了女性主宰身体器官的权利，堕胎是明令禁止的法律条文，是避忌不谈的敏感话题，女性满足欲望需要付出惨重代价，怀孕是一种只会攻击女人的病，剪掉脐带像是切断束缚。剧作和技法并不比同类题材4m3w2d或NRSA出众，威尼斯评审团授予它金狮更多是褒奖其直面社会议题的勇气，绝非陈词滥调，无论何时何地何种方式，它都值得被反复书写，我们也需要这样的电影不断警示世界，抗争之路从不平坦，由历史映照当下，直指这荒谬的时代，一切都“正发生”。
确定
事实证明依据个体经验而形成的个体叙事更锋利也更柔软
生理上的痛，心理上的痛，痛苦让女性变得更坚韧。
作为男人，看的后背发凉，法国尺度确实放的开
结尾最不经意的一句:流产的判定，却成为全片最暖的一处。关于疼痛，触觉的电影
在他们之上 我们读道
如此政治的topic之下是对个人经历最诚恳的叙述，但happening的标题以后半段无比生猛的表现力又令观众很难不去联想到许多女性遇到的共同困境，更表现出第二波女权运动的口号“个人的即政治的”这一口号
同类型看完还是 四月三周两天 更好，这部有点白开水了。
Copyright © 2015-2023 All Rights Reserved
