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."
3.5。前半部分挺好，后半部分太明显开始讲道理。最怕韩国电影这种沉重的气息。3.5给了四星而不是三星，因为第一次知道有《兹山鱼谱》这个东西，了不起的来历。这位作者想必会是东坡的神交之友
李濬益真是毫不掩饰作为导演的野心，比如黑白拍摄的必要性就很低，过于用力了。但难得的是确实一直在进步。电影本身个人观感只是平稳，但确实要承认，古装片的突破口就在于与当下的对话，这部做到了，韩国电影再一次在古装类型上可能领先于中国电影了。最残酷的是，这样的故事一遍又一遍地揭示着阶级难以跨越。
“昌大啊，活成不断向上飞的鹤虽不错，但即便身上沾满污水泥浆，也选择活的像兹山一样，外表看着黑暗却生机勃勃自由自在，也未曾不是有意义的事啊”
尤其喜欢丁若铨结尾写的关于海胆和小鸟的故事，蓝色小鸟从海胆飞出，海胆依旧可以蠕动。有点像丁若铨和昌大，本觉得师生情如果延续得再久一点就好了，丁说只要昌大过得好就好了，瞬间我就释怀了。丁经历世事变迁的豁达与昌大按照自己的性格去活形成某种默契的呼应。我对这个鱼谱本身也很好奇，太爱吃海鲜啦🦑🐟
薛景求青龙影帝了，不得不说他在这部片子里十分迷人，这是我心里真正儒家学者的形象，不拘于物，超脱于时代，多么美好的人啊，道袍纱帽的风流令人心醉。
李导的史剧/时代剧真是错不了。心中李导是可以把韩国商业电影拍的最’美’的导演，也是少有可以把黑白拍的如此有味道的导演。
镜头从海边之人望月升到月亮，再从月亮落到山上望月之人，这不就是“海上生明月，天涯共此时”么。对于其画面和文本体现出的中华文化之博大精深和中国诗词之美，很难不佩服。
近读《曾公嘉言钞》，“国藩入世已深，厌阅一种宽厚论说、模棱气象，养成不黑不白，不痛不痒之世界，误人家国已非一日，偶有所触，则轮囷肝胆又与掀振一番”。
韩国是有这样的人物，然后可以强。日本明治维新时亦有这样的大人。吾国是有曾、李，谭、梁，孙文乃至于毛泽东。想到张香帅建汉阳兵工厂，而“汉阳造”为武昌首义打响了第一枪，正是影片里在海水中可重现墨迹的乌贼墨水，是海胆里飞出的青鸟，是“星星之火，可以燎原”。
中国其实这样的题材也是无数。反正韩国人拍也一样，抛开民族国家，都是东亚背景，这也是中华文化的反哺。我们还拍不出，是我们被主义搅的一片混乱。里面丁若全与其弟的通信，很有意思。一方面思考儒家文明的理想，对现实政治的监督和批判，而反复朗读的汉文，无不彰显儒家的信仰力量。二丁若全的鱼谱，又内含试图打通东西走向现代的启蒙之路。电影简单化的就是描绘官家，苛政猛于虎，酷吏加腐败，没有深入利弊。这点我们的大明王朝不比该片弱。
哈哈哈哈，我竟然看出了一股“搞创作理论的真的见到很多有价值的题材时很冲动很纯真”的味道。还像极了电影青年，以及电影青年寻找合伙人的那种过程。
气死我了！这个黑白+古装+儒学这么好的背景，基督教异端儒家学者流放小岛，写下前世未有之鱼类百科全书这么好的题材，思想交汇、自然风光、历史感…竟然被处理成这样一味煽情，简单粗暴的烂俗故事，真是气死我了气死我了…
“村里每发生一件伤心事，海螺就发出声响”，这世上有那么多海螺，每一个都有声响。
对国家是罪人，对我家是客人。前面比后面处理得好。没想到时至今日还会有商业片导演涉足这种冷门的知识分子流放题材。穷则独善其身，达则兼济天下，官场失意，大隐于世，寄情山水，家国情怀。而从儒学到西学的观念转变，则是时代巨轮的滚滚向前。入世也好，出世也罢，师徒二人最终在某种意义上都成为了自己理想的殉道者，也依然与这个世俗社会格格不入。
和电影《柳如是》中对钱谦益的刻画很像，晚明的文人和满清时代朝鲜文人的价值追求近乎重合，大概这就是儒文化圈的影响力？其实最近越发迷恋儒家文化浸润中的知识分子的精神追求。我一直以为，这种追求是在通过一种内敛、克制的方式来完成在一个并不通达显明的世道对自己存在价值的保护。虽然我不是什么知识分子，但我认为这种文化对我是有用的，对每一个企图在某种社会环境下诚实活下去的人都是有用了。它和西方的自由、存在主义在我这里奇妙地相通了。它们将会是支撑我一生的宝贵财富。
不可错过的一部黑白电影，用出世的心态来获取人生，用入世的渴望来造福于民，很难说谁更胜一筹，只是时势造就
开头一种思悼的感觉，昌大去做官那段拍得有点垮，前面很好，两个人做鱼谱太好玩了
《思悼》是戏剧般的紧凑，《兹山鱼普》是时间的长卷。惜别时，泪眼遥望，青鸟青山。林权泽在拍完《西便制》后说，这种对于传统的思考是“对年轻导演的影响”，心中感慨万千。林权泽大多时候看到儒家好的一面，《祝祭》中有言，“儒家将祖先奉为神明”，传统的仁义忠孝蕴含在电影中。李濬益两部历史电影则对儒家的畸变进行反思，同样都是“无父无君”之人，问求出路何方，苍天何解，世道何为。李的电影中最感动的，是仍有：希望。想到“光头运动”中林权泽说，在韩国，比剃光头更严重的，只有自焚了。《兹山》中那个阉割自己的农民，也是如此吧。儒家文化中的“谏”，下对上的诉求，是自残式的、牺牲式的——这也对应了影片中的基督徒，成为了一种现世的“殉教”。父——君——神，东方的三位一体。
知识分子上山下乡，接受贫下中农的再教育，很有必要；而贫下中农只想着在平凡的世界「胜天半子」……死循环。
对“苛捐杂税”的细节例证很有趣。老师最后写就的不仅是一本科学著作，也是有人情味的非虚构散文，这点也特别好。韩国电影怎么那么喜欢用小人物的喜剧脸谱来谄媚观众啊（扶额
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