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."
没看过，看到这么多刷高评分不爽，生活中也没见过几个眯眯眼，到动画全部都是了
不要再把人的动作嫁接到机械设定上去，应该设计属于电子机械自己的动作。一想到cg模型后面是一个人在表演，就一身尴尬。
同类型片里我始终更喜欢《我是传奇》，这一部算不上特别的好，但是也拍出了自己的特色，以机器衬托人类，对于他人的信任，亲情的传承，人类给自己所设的边界与限制，是啊，我们人类就是这么可笑的物种。可是看完又有一丝悲伤，最后释然。
那只蝴蝶像是阿甘的羽毛。汤姆汉克斯老成了施瓦辛格的样子。
希望所有的狗狗都能这样被善待，地球随便怎么样吧。
一人，一狗，两个AI（强AI和弱AI），一辆房车。很喜欢末世孤独浪游设定，就像同样喜欢末世孤独宅居设定（没错，指的正是《我是传奇》）。倒并不在意所谓科学是否自洽而正确。遗憾在于，作为一部影片，需要一条主线。人得有一个前进的动机，一个目的地，还要加入一点惊险，以及一个终结。所以中段之后，终究不能像《横滨购物纪行》、《少女终末旅行》那样漫无止境，那样自由自在。也许在《白象似的群山》般休憩的画面里结束这个故事，是一个更仁慈的选择。Jeff是今年最喜欢的机器人: )
虽然画面很精美，我也愿意为国漫花钱，但是剧本实在不行啊（除了结尾小高光一下，全程俗套煽情加鸡血），你们是不是对国漫太宽容了啊
结尾汤姆·汉克斯从车上跳下来，背影是T恤短裤，前方是笔直延伸到天际线的公路，那一瞬间仿佛梦回>阿甘正传<！！此刻，由演员本身所带来的感动层层加码冲破了”第四堵墙“，连接了剧情中的未来、现实中的当下、回忆中的往昔——即便电影中的各种催泪桥段屡见不鲜，但煽情也基本把握了不过度原则，整片观感非常温馨疗愈。
好看的，虽然剧情很套路。（后排小孩老是踢椅子，哼。）
The dog outlived Finch and Finch long lived through Jeff, with hope and believe. 最后才懂第四定律中的“absent”是什么意思。泪目啊。
有点程式化的故事，按流程走最后总能掐到点泪点。
I can still remember how that music
不难看，但是看完也属于“大可不必”的那种感受，狗狗很可爱我知道，人间不值得但偶尔也值得这我也知道，汉克斯演这种角色基本上更是可以闭着演了，但8.4分也是吓人，一点插科打诨+一点温情，感觉这种狗片一年能拍80部。
「人，狗和机器人」：开头有《火星救援》版《机器人瓦力》之感，后续的观影又联想到《我是传奇》《超能查派》《荒岛求生》等影片…… —— “第四条指令：如果芬奇不在，机器人必须保护小狗。本条指令优先于所有其他指令。” → “你已经可以跟我说出金门大桥上有多少颗铆钉，用了多长的悬索以及桥有多高，但是只有当你站在上面，看到它的美，听到悬索在风中歌唱…这是一种体验，是一种人类的体验，不只是想象，而是生活。” —— 我的泪点：杰夫依靠在芬奇的肩上，芬奇便伸手拥抱了杰夫，以及，随后上演预料之中的“生离死别”剧情……
尽管不是所有故事都会结束在恰当的地方
That I could make those people dance
套了末世壳的total cliche；流媒体上的safe card：完美卡司优秀特效，加上一百分的无聊。
苹果tv这回是do well了（基地的阴影终于没了～
这大概是荧幕史上最话痨、最多动、最有人情味的机器人了吧 汤姆汉克斯演技一如既往的稳定，一人一狗一机器人依然可以把故事诠释得那么生动感人，继荒岛余生后，汤姆汉克斯再一次证明自己不喜欢团队合作 几个画面太过经典，跟机器人爆米花、触摸蝴蝶、人与机器人拥抱、机器人与狗拥抱以及最后的金门大桥，一部科幻片却拍出了浓郁的人文气息，这才是我们需要的好莱坞电影，无比怀念被超英占领前的好莱坞
这类电影就属于那种感觉没什么剧情发生，但是看完了又能被细节深深打动的电影。
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