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."
“现在漫画，电视剧里常出现一些同性恋的设定，所以我觉得我能够理解。” “装出一副理解的样子，实际出现在面前，你不还是充满好奇吗？”
神尾枫珠剪掉你的厚头发 那么帅 为什么老用头发挡住五官呢 从恋之月就觉得你未来可期 演技还是要磨练 哭戏不行 没眼泪
能允许讨论性和同性恋的青春
感觉女主长胖了（没有别的意思 只是有点惊讶 虽然我是腐女（如果以喜欢BL来定义的话确实是 不过这个世界上本来就不存在完全可以理解他人的感情吧 曾经的我一度也很惶恐 一度挣扎在“我这样是不是不太政治正确？”的迷茫中 后面我觉得尊重就好了 日本在探讨这种话题上还是比我们有了先行的一步 随着社会发展 不同的性取向要怎样相处也会成为一个必然的问题 就像电影里说的那样 抱着无谓错与对 只是平等的感情来对待的话 可能就不会觉得异样了 很喜欢三浦在礼堂的演讲 不必隐藏自己就是最好的结果
和剧相比，细腻的地方浅点，男主的哭起来还挺男女都能爱的天菜型，难怪会都喜欢他。
关于骗婚深柜啊同妻啊腐女之类的已经不想评判什么了，女主果然又是原谅一切包容一切的温柔善良形象呢。三浦透子戏份少但是很抢眼。
从男性的角度来展开心路历程：希望可以结婚，有孩子，被社会认可。所有的这些我都是可以理解体会到的。但是何时能从女性的角度探讨一下被骗婚的感受，这样才能真正平权吧?！
努力传达正确观念，每个努力做自己的人都值得被喜欢。想起我们高中的大家观念都很正，隔壁班谈恋爱的两位女孩子在学校也可以做自己。人为建造起来的墙壁，无论是为了保护自己还是保护他人，都应该尽快拆除，做自己不需要烦恼，因为没有人能够真正理解，此片独特在讨论了这个问题，即使是bl爱好者，即使是看似头头是道理解的旁人。
一个蛮神奇的偏轻小说式日本影片，一个腐女爱上了男同，是某种羁绊的开始，也是最终的宿命。
90/100 现实不是摩擦力为0的耽美梦幻世界，每个人都有想要的东西，但每个人都无法欺骗自己的内心和肉体反应。这的确是一个厌女的剧本，但这个世界就是一个厌女的世界，所以更应该拍出来让人们看到这个现象。以为是本子之前出的那些劣质的同志片，看完觉得不错，神尾枫珠你是我的神🥰
真悲伤啊 但也够美好了吧｜勇气 把自己摊在其他人面前的勇气 和 面对这个并不能假设摩擦力不存在的世界的勇气
意外的惊喜 男主真的要感激从小就有这么铁的直男兄弟 还有爱她的妈妈 以及被同性恋骗爱都不恨他的女孩
「总是有摩擦，才会有改变。」亚洲地区可能也就日本和台湾能够将年轻世代扑朔迷离的性取向所衍生的故事给呈现的如此细致。山田杏奈饰演的女主真诚、坚定、大胆富有同理心，演技表现也较为细腻；整部影片的摄影风格与色调随着剧情而变化，也很令人喜爱。
二倍速三星。看到结尾才知道是电影而非电视剧。视觉体验较佳，最后对HR的反击也有让人点头认同，是很好的放松心情的电影，让人想到初夏傍晚
以为是十九禁，结果还挺能有思考，除了女主太端着演其他没啥毛病，男主很帅哦～
但当我看到最后一个镜头里的两个字时
比剧版的稍平淡点，剧版太压抑了…另外，今井翼太符合这种深柜爸爸人设了吧！
第一次感觉人麻了，自担在rps里一直是右位突然一天演真gay变成左位，看到床戏吻戏不能像当初看剧版时一样以腐女视角平常心体会，而是突然心梗，电影快结束的时候我已经起了一身疹子，真是可怕的应激反应，年轻时甚至做过女友粉，但今天不能接受他做1，啊不装了我是受梦女（仅此对rps）
努力传达正确观念，每个努力做自己的人都值得被喜欢。想起我们高中的大家观念都很正，隔壁班谈恋爱的两位女孩子在学校也可以做自己。人为建造起来的墙壁，无论是为了保护自己还是保护他人，都应该尽快拆除，做自己不需要烦恼，因为没有人能够真正理解，此片独特在讨论了这个问题，即使是bl爱好者，即使是看似头头是道理解的旁人。
郑智厚说出“我不想和你交往”的时候算是电影对BDSM关系的最后一次忠诚，而当这个角色说“我喜欢你"的时候一切有关议题的坍塌和角色本身都已经坍塌，不过本来也是披着噱头的合约恋人式爱情喜剧，施虐与受虐简单化成“找一个志趣相投的人”，也只是保守轻浮的触及皮毛。李濬荣的角色（结尾之前）和表演多么讨喜，是这部电影不配。
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