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."
还好有外国电影（嘘🤫）
很虐的一部电影，父亲和女儿的和解来的太晚了。
前半段困境描绘尤其给力，后半段解脱和解稍嫌不足。
出于职业情怀，给个满星评价吧。
三位演员都好棒，小潘已证明不用激情也可以吸引人，班德拉斯邪恶真好。给电影的情书，黑色的那种。
笑点有，但又觉得没啥内容。拍了太多无厘头的有的没的。
西班牙电影的特点就是，从来不按套路出牌。这俩男人真的有够自恋的，都表演欲极强，而且自信满满。但作为电影来讲，还是太戏剧了。台词太密，看着就累。
这部影片通过对一部电影的排练过程进行刻画，反应了这个行业当中一些不可告人的秘密，借用主要人物之手，诠释了导演对这一行业自己独特的见解，其中本片最大的特点就在于诙谐幽默，影片中的演员与戏中戏的角色在一定程度上有很多相似之处，讽刺了演艺圈光怪陆离的乱象。影片当中的几个搞笑场面，如头顶“巨石”，吻戏ASMR，特别是粉碎机粉碎奖杯的一幕令人印象深刻。
真正的罪犯从始至终没有认罪，反而善良的人在遭受折磨
这不就是我们朝思暮想，梦寐以求的荒诞喜感吗？通常我们是以阅读体验中臆想出来的幻觉来近距离接触它，现在则有这么一部电影，能让你只用眼睛就能实实在在看见它，多么妙不可言。
两星半，可能是我水平不够，总觉得全篇讽刺的毫无新意而且太满，让人看着有些压抑和累，形式还大于内容了一点点。以及佩内洛普和班德拉斯虽然演的都非常出彩，但是真的，苍老的肉眼可见
#2021年威尼斯主竞赛；黑色幽默，表演出彩，几处声音设计很棒，巨大空旷的空间结构也用得很不错。
大晚上看这个真的太气了 这老爸脾性差还充满戾气 我不懂为什么他讨人厌了一整场却因为最后小小的柔软而得到大家的谅解。我不是说花音该死 说我黑心也罢 我认为这样的老爸就应该让他承受点人生的痛苦！凭什么还能趾高气扬地地追问人家要自己想要的被扭曲的真相？反倒是店长 战战兢兢地工作 如履薄冰地看着世人的眼光 别人只对他说句“谢谢”就让他流泪 这样的人为什么活得那么痛苦？还有第一个撞到花音的小姐姐 被良心和舆论打倒了 为什么到死了都没活得一句原谅？这样固执已见的老爸 到女儿死了才去试着理解她的老爸 凭什么带给人家那么多痛苦？真想他手在船上被割伤然后破伤风死掉！媒体也该死 社会需要公义 还有需要保护维持公义的方式！【我恨得咬牙切齿 皆因老爸这个演员演得真好】
旬报似乎十分喜欢这种因原生家庭的不堪而给人带来持续性毁灭打击的影片。去年是《一夜》，今年则是这部。虽然多少有些抓马，但整体的矛盾是真实的。在高强度的压抑之下，对于故事的细节与延展方面处理得相对妥当。吉田新太的表演在我看来是不亚于凭《美好的世界》拿下旬报影帝的役所广司的。
中间有些地方能带人笑死，有些地方有点无聊，但是总体来说还是很好看的！
在旁人的恶意父亲的恨意和媒体的失责，一团糟糕的事实，只有在失去的时候才成为了父亲。
观影过程挺愉快，到2/3处可以打4星；结尾稍弱，看完怅然若失。
在我这和濑濑敬久的《友罪》一种观感（2021年旬报十佳第七，映画艺术十差榜首）
整场不停在笑 在电影中用剧场化的空间和推进有着意想不到的好看 两个导演兼编剧算是阿根廷黄金搭档了哎 也不得不说阿根廷人真的很会说话 语言文字的运用真的不是西班牙人能比的 西语世界中的意大利人、嘴灿莲花来着的 不知道看英语版的人能不能体会到 3个主角都演技在线 尤其是小潘潘 终于有阿尔莫多瓦以外的人能引导出她的演技爆发了 另外服化道也是好看 各种香奈儿卡尔拉格菲尔德Celine廓形高跟blingbling 时尚爱好者的视觉享受也是杠杠的
即使是探讨舆论暴力、道德困境这样的话题，内在的情感依旧能保持温和克制，我觉得这是日本文化的力量。这个故事也让我们看到法律或者道德的局限性。以及，艺术对拯救人心的作用。
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