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."
爸爸妈妈和哥哥的角色都是聋人演员饰演，还是很有意义的！能够找到自己可是不容易的事情（另外结尾男孩卡壳了也算妙笔
其实这种放法国就是个爆米花家庭电影 美国人真的当宝了 而且这也就法版一般水平 主要差在歌品不好
应该是《贝利叶一家》的翻拍作品，周末早上哭着看完整个人都不好。对命运不屈服，用心倾听，珍惜身边的人，这电影在独居生活的大城市真是莫大的教益。电影里每个角色都很出彩，他爸身材真好简直是海王，他哥也有自己独特的见解，他老师最逗末了还来个彩蛋，为什么他老师出身名校抱着满腹才华会去一个🐟village的村小执教，因为电影里他自己讲自己毕业的那个年头，那年不好。
我是看过贝利叶一家的，听说这部coda是翻拍贝利叶，虽然我不太记得法版情节了，但我真没办法把这两部联系起来。细想想这两部名字其实是可以对调了，贝利叶一家倒是更多关注聋哑人和coda的身份认同，而这部以coda为名的电影倒是更多以聋哑人家庭关系出发，我不觉得他们一家任何人对自己本身的身份认同有啥太纠结的。虽然方向不一样，但是这部美版翻拍是拍出了自己的精气神，非常有美帝的气质，自信洒脱，自我一点点也是可以的。
#Sundance28 如何从独立电影角度讲好一个套路故事？导演的情感把握实在是太细腻了，从合唱团表演消音开始泪崩，父亲摸女儿的声带振动“听”音乐，女儿用手语告诉家人歌词含义……虽然不是最特别的故事，但是捕捉了最丰富的情感，今年Sundance最佳。（以及好喜欢选曲，蹲一个歌单）
最佳影片居然是看完都不想占用云盘资源立删的那种无聊程度
其实故事内核很简单。据说原版相对轻松些，没有这些关于压力和对抗。小女主演的不错，未来可期。both side now加一星。
没有特别出彩的地方，但我们需要这样的电影。
本片翻拍於法國電影《貝利葉一家》，和昔日馬丁斯科塞斯的《無間道風雲》相似，勝在並非生搬硬套式的移植，而是進行了徹底的本土化改造，放進了美國當下熱門話題，更有利於討好美國觀眾的口味。此片現實和夢想相衝突的取材已是老生常談，好在有著聽障殘疾群體的題材加持，使得作品超越了一般勵志片，讓觀眾更能體會到弱勢群體的困境。該片不僅在殘障群體的生存困境上著墨，還在親情羁绊上花了不少心思，潛移默化地把家庭之間的親密情感化入出其不意的視聽設計以及意想不到的劇情轉折，製造了一種催人淚下的戲劇效果。
有梦想的孩子终究会离开原生家庭离得远远的，但是不是所有父母都能够懂，能够听到孩子们的心与声（无论他们是不是聋哑人）。幸好这部电影给了个完美的结局，是个鸡汤式的青春片。
很欣喜再次看到如此真实克制又令人感动的美国文艺片了。在好莱坞疯狂拿着“同性”“族裔”“移民”这些可争奖的政治正确标签而设计电影的当下，本片完全抛开这些金砖，选择在“少数群体”中深耕，找到了我们平时最容易见到又最容易忽视的群体——聋哑人，认真还原了聋哑家庭的真实生活状态，主线是女主要追求自己的梦想考伯克利，副线是女孩和男生的爱情线。主线在“个人和家庭选哪个”中进退两难，副线在“取笑我家庭的男孩到底该不该爱”中纠结。虽然猜到最终女主肯定会考上伯克利，也料到会用手语来演唱，可真当看到女主用手语演唱时，眼泪还是控制不住的流下来。也许正是这种真实和真诚，才让任何修饰和技巧显得多余。这才是我们平凡人的生活和情感啊，世界都大同，人间同艰难。只有一家人团结一心，乐观迎难，这世上还有什么困难？
好久没有看到那么纯正的美式青春片了，那种家庭的关系又让我想起《阳光小美女》，真是又温暖又感动。最后想起多年前看过的《校花我爱你》，里面那个校花说自己在毕业以后应该也会变成普通人，当时的我十几岁，还不太理解。后来才知道，人长大就意味着要接受失去，但当你年少的时候，觉得可以有那么多可能，那种美好是难以言喻的。
会被打动，但这电影简直不能更平庸了吧。貌似是改变了聋哑人听音乐的方式，事实上又什么都没改变。这都能入围奥斯卡，你让先锋的金棕榈电影去哪儿说理去？完成度就是一切么？也没看出这片的完成度有多高。至于视听语言？总不能说手语加一堆字幕叫视听语言吧。
每个人都有权利追逐梦想，尤其是在你非常有天赋的时候。即使你需要思考很多可能阻拦你前行道路的问题，但是，如何突破阻拦才是你真正要思考的事，尤其是在有家人支持的时候，什么困难可能都不会是困难。
8/10，健听女孩绝对比去年的戛纳电影节的钛电影靠谱，那部钛能获奖属实有点迷惑行为大赏。该电影虽然叙事平淡无奇，社会矛盾冲突也没有寄生虫印象深刻，但是在如今摆烂的好莱坞来说确实是一股清流作品，值得一看。
这种题材真的太好哭了。家庭，梦想，音乐，初恋，一切故事的基调让我在前半段质疑这不过又是一部中规中矩的美国校园青春片，但父女在星空下的“对话”，再到后半段音乐学院的面试舞台，那种用手语传达的真情感差点让人把隐形眼镜哭出来。
美式家庭的独立与开放加上温情的故事实属清新
要不我还是去看阳光小美女？真是矮子里拔高个，这片子放在几年前丢个提名打发打发就撵走了。电影想所要描述的是外是陌生人里是一家人，但是展现给观众的是里外都不像是一家人，妈妈的自私就这么过了呗蒙混观众……挑不出大毛病也是，但无功无过也是啊，不出一个星期会忘掉的片子。改编剧本如果意味着照抄细节那话那真是栓q
2015年看完《贝利叶一家》时，我感慨：这真的不是翻拍1996年德国那部《走出寂静》吗，区别是女主一个是拉小提琴，一个是唱歌。其他设置都差不多，剧情走向也差不多。//这回又回到了唱歌。不管怎样，对这种套路影片，我已经毫无感觉了。
好久没看到这么好的片子，四十岁的男人哭得稀里哗啦，……一条渔船有尊严的活着，一家四口相亲相爱又充满情趣，单纯的友情，简单的爱情，痴迷音乐专于教学的天才老师，只属于我一个人的室外桃源，彼此祝福的恋人，这人世间的一切美好都在梦里他乡。
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