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."
记得的碎片：
在游荡者这个题材里拍得算差的吧。无论是趣味性还是批判性，都不能和《拾穗者》相比啊。无论是表演还是镜头都完全脱离了这个题材所应该有的现实感。只是人与人的分别那几场戏稍微有点触动。（我还蛮喜欢这个女主的，但她应该凭其它电影拿奖）前几天有个美国新闻，说洛杉矶市区为了搞奥斯卡庆典，驱离了那里的无家可归者，这个讽刺新闻还挺配这个电影的。
“I am not homeless, I am just houseless.” 温柔又有力量，值得一座金狮。
Fern独自行进在音乐中、广角的回忆中，每一段垫在音乐后面的车声、背景音都是一种极大的治愈，喜欢。
题材好感，比预想的好，虽然过于精致还有烂俗配乐，但这类故事只要不说教不自作多情就不会令人厌烦（反面典型《冰山的阴影》），我只是喜欢那句是houseless不是homeless罢了
最美的风景永远在路上。“没有房子和没有家是不一样的。”四海为家的人，家在心中。
诗意的空镜，琐碎艰难的日常被赵婷缝合得天衣无缝。不是无处停留，只是停留在哪里都不对，都是勉强的尴尬，是依然不改的孤独。那么，上路吧。我想起鲁迅的孤独者，有时候孤独是遗传的，是命定的，那么就接受吧！我仿佛看到了自己对自己晚年生活的推演，那么到时候就去承受去感受去忍耐，这是你的人生。
绝大多数人从未离群，而那些离群的人，有的选择回归，有的选择继续上路。在路上，人、物、风景皆是过客，所谓浮生若梦，为欢几何？秉烛夜游处最有诗意。而诗意，就是最好的缅怀。
不同寻常的公路片。有时候很多事情就是没办法放下，不是所有过往都可以释怀的，但这没关系，当你不得不上路的时候，一切就路上见吧。
很多地方都很感人，我以为我懂得她的孤独，亚马逊车间的镜头尤其有意思。但这明确地是个他者的故事，用的也是他者的视角。
走在路上，遇见一些人，把石头扔进火堆里，告别一些人。无所依托之时，我们曾相互扶持。
自从看过科恩嫂的《三个广告牌》，其“悍妇”的形象就深入人心。这次也不例外，扮演一个心里向往自由，一路不得停歇的公路“吉普赛”。各种讨生活，各种困难，各种偶遇和分享，各种安居的诱惑，然而她却依然故我地行在路上，享受着自由和风光。无来由地让我觉得她像极了那荆棘鸟，在风中永不落地 | 片中冷色调的风光真是又美丽又让人感到无比凄冷 | 改编自Jessica Bruder所著书籍《Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century》
See you down the road. 这也算是公路片吧，镜头风格好喜欢。孤独并伴随着孤独共生，不停下脚步，至少是我会愿意选择的生活方式。（和我娘一起看的，她看完就完全无感…毕竟只有我这样的性格会恨不得远离固定环境天天在路上
片子不错 觉得女主真的是纠结了过去太久 无法move on 也无法接受其他人的好意 很可惜她并没有留在那个老头的家里…唯一不足的是 真的没啥剧情 看的无奈又纠结…我也想一直旅行 但是我要先存钱！lol ……推荐插曲：Oltremare by Ludovico Einaudi……不知道女导drama到底啥 不过恭喜获得金球最佳导演 但是感觉奥斯卡不会给她 从格莱美看 应该会给政治正确的作品
莫名还挺适合新年看的。还是没让人失望。科恩嫂仿佛成了观众的眼，带着我们走进了这些Nomads的生活。自始至终都是一种寂寥之感，还挺让人感慨的，有时觉得他们很勇敢，有时也不明白活着到底为什么。配乐煽情有点儿过，但还是挺让人有代入感的。
生活显然是艰辛的，但依我看Fern大多时候并不痛苦。有的人一阵子在路上，而有的人注定一辈子都要在路上，我们只能路上见见…
这种题材就该肯·洛奇来拍，此片只拍成了资产阶级体验生活，布尔乔亚心灵鸡汤，伪善底层关怀自我感动，避重就轻偷换议题，当演员置身于真实人群，表演在真实面前相形见绌，配乐全去掉，出戏得很，又不是自然风光片，收尾非常拖拉，只见天地见自己，不想见众生，
不懂好在哪里…可能是思想的不一致，没有受过这种文化的熏陶，所以无法感知故事的震撼和感动…一个为爱不顾一切的女人，因为爱守护着丈夫的一切直到无法守候，一路寻找自己生命的意义，尿尿拉屎的镜头意义存在是为了呈现真实感吗？不懂…她是个试图冲破一切常规思维的女人，但是最终还是在常规中迷失……被吹捧的20分神作，被配乐拉到及格线，整部影片亮点只有配乐！
除电影本身而言，现在的Anti-Asian Hate运动/ First color Asian women 应该起到了一定的作用，不能说这没有“天时地利人和”的”运气” or 运气本事也是一种实力？
感觉这个选材无敌了，基本已经成功了六七成。残酷的现实和诗意的人的精神内核共存，无敌的美国路上风光给后者的呈现加分太多，所以其实对前者的启示是，要流浪，要做homeless，去美国。。。好吧，虽然觉得成功主要靠选材，但处理上毫无滞涩，纯熟老练，而且是自己改编的剧本，赵导演眼看就是李安后又一个毫无违和的可以把握美国精神内核的来自东方的导演。。。
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