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."
是谁说这是今年最好的恐怖片？？？老年人这个点真是纯粹硬凹，剩下的slasher thing全是别人玩剩下的……太粗糙了……你让个人工智能来写每天能产出100部
叶子的戏份太少了，开篇火车上那段黑黢黢的没拍好。
1.前一个小时基本是在铺垫，带点惊悚，情色辅助以及致敬经典恐怖片，后40分钟便开始大开杀戒，虐杀四方；2.如果让一部恐怖片带点文艺气息？其中一个办法就是让凶手在杀人之后，站在尸体前面独舞，这招在各种类型片里面都有效；3.面对各种虐杀镜头时，我一点也不害怕，当看到老头老妪鸾颠凤倒蜂狂蝶乱时，我害怕得转过了头。
益生菌和奈绪都是好演员，可不晓得为什么，在这样的故事里完全撑不住；尤其奈绪，跟和服姿天生八字不合。尽管这是个严格依照小说顺序做的剧本，却反而看得人愈发吃力，还不如做得跟肥皂剧一样，说不定更好看呢。
嘴上说着徒劳，最后没人成功超脱，还带点解谜味道。nao在这里真是太美了，一开始还觉得不昭和，属于是越看越迷人的造型和演技
“一切都是徒劳”驹子后十分钟惊艳燃烧，益生菌这个角色只是背景板的存在所以也在正常发挥之内。
用手指触感记住的女人，和另一位眼里闪烁着灯火的女人，川端康成懂她们，懂這份命运里的「徒劳」，在意识到徒劳和无法摆脱徒劳，自愿深陷徒劳的困境中，处处弥漫着哀伤与虚无。白雪，银河，火光，女人的脸，寂灭景象
文学晦涩的美感 很难通过影像具象化
岛村就像去探案的🤣场景切换节奏还不错，开头半小时的駒子乖巧得想打一分，后面拉回不少。大概是山猪吃不了细糠，雪国哪个版本的感情线都无法理解，駒子辛い什么？叶子も辛そう、なんで？この2人はどの関係なの？なぜ島村は駒子にはまってるの？🥹书里还能看看细如毛的描写，而剧就全靠读“摘抄”了。（反复出现隧道的样子是想表现岛村shock到心灵受震撼？上次类似的情节是海女了
贫穷与苦难总是一对孪生兄弟
看电影之前对新选组历史了解不多的可能很难看懂，于是变成了边看边补知识了，剧情不是特别喜欢，有的地方发展太仓促了，不过演员还挺不错的，冈田准一还是一如既往地出色，山田凉介这次表现着实令人惊艳，冲田总司真的很贴角色
雪国的景是真的漂亮 爱的人 和爱他的人都走了 女主也没必要留着了 离开纯白的地方 她走向了黑暗
驹子——小驹——小松。驹子无法为自己很活，在漫天大雪里等待别人的来到和离去，没有办法挽留。
论血腥不血腥，论恐怖不恐怖，论深度没深度，这片拍的不伦不类
文学晦涩的美感 很难通过影像具象化
A24就爱拿腔拿调，琐碎的场景总是煞有介事的多个机位展现，不仅氛围感拉低，也不断磨蹭到冲散观众的观影热情，危机四伏跟成人影片交互剪辑，质地刻意要拔高，黑白电视机里的传销演讲一遍又一遍，生怕看电影的人是低能儿，唯独复古意味还原浓厚，但杀戮开始，下三路恐怖片的手法频频拿来炫技，以为是什么高级的反讽幽默处理，看到最后一刻才发现依然是类型片穷途末路的一次复制，对性的欢愉神往真是不分尊卑老少，对人性骨子里的恶挖掘不遗余力，形式和内容双双不奏效的九流制作，A24再这么有恃无恐的装逼下去，迟早药丸。★☆
大雪，温泉，让我想起会津若松的东山温泉.....
还是旁白过多，没有原著的韵味。不过女主确实惊艳，男主的徒劳说了n多遍，很违和。
两个三角恋。岛村-驹子-行男，行男-叶子-驹子。节奏缓慢，背景简单，对话看不懂（翻译的不行），几个废青搞来搞去，但居然看完了。这种苦恋看得揪心，也许就是这片吸引人的地方。
是徒劳吗？ 所以驹子爱的是行男吗？所以驹子的一生是徒劳吗？
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