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."
7/10.
看着瘦骨嶙峋的汤叔真的直观的感受到末日的绝望，旅程的遭遇更是让人感到孤独，绝望，芬奇担心自己不在，杰夫没办法照顾好goodyear，距离旧金山不远处看到蝴蝶的瞬间，感受阳光的瞬间，支起遮阳伞，that is it，living，就在这感受生活最后的瞬间。btw教育真的很重要，芬奇选的书，和他分享给杰夫的故事，和杰夫说的话，将他变成这个有爱的机器人，教他和狗建立信任，但是又不要信任任何人。很矛盾，可是却是生存下去的方法。芬奇设定的程序，永远不要伤害人类也不能坐视人类被伤害，芬奇既绝望却又在杰夫身上寄予着希望，显示了不失人性的一面。
机器人居然会做梦 拥抱还会主动钻到你怀里 乖乖坐好等着听主人讲故事 人性的延伸太好了
感谢汤姆汉克斯的角色死得早，他不死我要抓狂。
5、如果可以，让我们上路吧。趁一切还来得及。
Welcome my son welcome to the machine
末世设定却不讲疯狂争抢资源，机器学习也不想未来是否失控，只讲同行三个“人”的故事。
这么老套的电影，Tom Hanks是闲不住吗，这种电影他还没拍烦吗。豆瓣为什么这么多喜欢老式温情片的人，当然我被坑的最惨的一次还是三傻大闹好莱坞。
“有机器人的电影都不差”，INTP如是说。
信息泛滥的时代，人生重要的是经历，脚踏实地的去实际感受，而不是碎片化地浮光掠影只言片语。
温情家庭片，适合幼儿及爱狗人士。动机是怯弱造成的原罪，从拯救宠物狗上赎罪，成全自己
《芬奇》是一部颇为与众不同的科幻电影，当所有好莱坞科幻电影都在着重特效抖包袱的时候，它却用公路片为载体，用一人一狗一机器人的组合，将一段原本危机四伏的末日旅途展现得温馨惬意，而在这股惬意的暖流背后，人性最为美好的真善是电影最能打动人心的底色。
虽然末世也有多处极美的大片级景致，机器人具有超级细腻的共情能力，最后一抱看得几欲落泪，但汤姆死后到jeff和狗建立信任有些太快，如果能多一点细腻的渐进过程就更好了
只有我觉得这个机器人很油腻嘛…人物和背景设定都很单薄无力，刻意煽情，完全无法和WallE比
故事很简单，一句话就能说完，但正因为这样能够有更多时间走进角色内心。虽然是Hanks的独角戏（依然是出类拔萃的表演），但机器人Jeff，勾勾Goodyear甚至是机器勾勾Deway都贡献了动人的表演。最后十分钟的音乐跟摄影都相当出色，末日废土只是设定，真正要讲的还是爱。
Do you understand？ understood.
1、末日之下的温情，有人有狗有机器，简单的故事也有真挚的情感表达；2、人性的复杂或人性之恶是隐藏在故事潜层的游魂，所以头脑简单的机器人和无意识的小狗更显得弥足珍贵，但故事的最后又指向了人的和谐，残存的人性之光是它们未来的追寻。
They made a robot to care lives. We made politics to kill.
只有一个主演的电影太适合汉克斯了，没有用力的表演，但不留痕迹的把观众带入情境。杰夫和狗狗，末路也变得晴朗可爱。杰夫照镜子的瞬间，我简直看到了他内心的惊讶悸动，还有杰夫不停运动的双手，及时表达出他的情绪，天，机器多好，比人更温暖，更让人愿意信任。虽然从起动杰夫的问话开始，就能猜到结局，可是，还会让人有兴致地看他们把故事好好构建起来，坦然接受这样的设定。好吧，不要太纠结杰夫的动力及他的材质为啥那么孔武有力。真希望是个连续剧，汉克斯、杰夫、狗狗，一直在。
但是后面为什么能脱下防护服了？高温和辐射怎么也没有了？这个不做解释是不对的。
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