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."
钟孟宏对疫情时代最有温度的记录，但又不仅仅关于疫情，当那些测温、口罩、隔离的场景渐渐随着故事发展后开始变得不再重要了，电影也真正的走入到人物内心的世界，装修工程的脚架和帏幕阻拦了屋子中的阳光和交流，母女两人的战争激化着，在如此压抑的环境中，我们对外界、对他人的感知失去了温度，瀑布的意象在电影结尾处的几分钟才明确下来，犹如激流卷走了生命，但瀑布又是一种提醒，在时刻提醒着我们日常的可贵，人可能无法抗拒洪流，我们都住在没有围栏的高楼，随波逐流之中我们是否能回头看看自己失去了什么呢，当世界无可避免地走向消逝，这些曾经的痛苦和磨难会变成保护我们的铠甲，因为在命运的侵蚀中，我们拥有彼此依靠的力量，钟孟宏将这个下行的故事拍得非常平稳，既没有刻意的煽情也没有放大悲剧，而是用一种中国人独有的坚强与希望注解
瀑布轰鸣，不期而至，大到影响全球的时代洪流，小到思觉失调的个人脑海，唯有将接受与理解视为新的信念。明显“仁慈”太多的钟孟宏，为防疫时代的无望生活注入了太多圆满，即便以悬疑恐怖质感时刻渲染的蓝色绝望，令一切都像是思觉失调者臆想的空欢喜。
#venezia78 哎，90分钟不香吗？非要墨迹两个多小时，墨迹到后来把所有缺点都墨迹出来了，桑心。上半部分很不错，下半部分越往后越大型车祸现场，桑心。整体上还是有可贵之处。
幕布 口罩 帘幕，瀑布的形声于社会 家庭 阶层 情感与感官间倾泻忧郁，冲垮良序，维持冰冷，阻隔温情。落脚到思觉失调，许玮甯讲的“要理解她”，从王净出门去赶走不存在的士兵，才有点懂。但钟孟宏从阳光普照开始的，着力点在时代背景与人情冷暖间游离而拿捏不准，便做不到大而化之的连贯流畅，可算为赋新词的“伪社会派”。当然，还是多晒太阳的好。刘冠廷捉蛇完全不意外，陈以文就非得加一句“考驾照不考倒车”，魏如萱的演法不太懂，抉择唱得好听。
钟孟宏真是越来越生猛，好欧洲的电影质感。看久了大陆电影，差点真以为华语电影没希望了，台湾已经出后疫情现实主义佳作了友友们，我们还在正能量呀！
钟孟宏所有作品都着力于生活的脆弱和不堪一击，想必给公司起名甜蜜生活也是种反讽。有钱的没钱的，相聚的离散的，最后都被生活之苦冲刷干净了。
远不如《美国女孩》。女性困境但凡没有亲身经历，靠想象出来再做所谓的“艺术加工”，八成都是台词悬浮、无病呻吟、喧宾夺主，正是因为“不真实”，里头的文学性有股挥不去的假文青味道。所有的角色讲话都有气无力、死气沉沉，对白文本也无趣得很，人物关系和场景的架设刻意，生活感稀薄，使得演员的演技发挥不出多少真情实感。前半拍成了悬疑恐怖片，后半突然母女温情暖暖；哪怕说以母亲思觉失调而造成前半女儿展现的叛逆感假象，可是到后面连一点过渡都几乎没有，导致前后观感严重割裂。女性议题饭真好恰，反正恰就对了，是吧？
不存在的雨夜怪奇失踪，刹不住脚步的母亲噩梦，电视后的蛇，耳中的瀑布……谁都有不堪的过去，或大或小而已，但如果有个不堪的未来呢？感觉为了缓和后疫情时代的社会疾苦，结尾强行在马赛克下换了套T恤
突然戳中的泪点 不禁想问 好好活下去怎么就这么难；一首《抉择》选得真棒 也不乏同伯格曼《假面》《野草莓》一样的元素
瀑布，The Falls，中文含义：流动的河水突然垂直跌落，英文含义：下滑、下落、坠落、跌倒，这个片名相当妙啊！瀑布是夺走生命的洪水猛兽，是不堪重负的生活压力，也是带来压抑与距离感的蓝色隔离布，还是中产阶级努力维持却仍然不断下坠的姿态。影片透过精神疾病患者的视角勾勒出了社会的阴暗角落，这种既特殊又普遍的洞察，带来了心灵上的震撼和反思，这是既属于他们也属于我们的不安与失衡。
7.6/10渐入佳境，前半段多少有点迷惑，但是慢慢的你会发现影片越来越有嚼头，滋味越来越浓，这是我很喜欢的一点，没有太多的起伏，但是慢慢的感染你，让你静下心来去听这个故事。很喜欢影片悬疑点的设定，很高级也很抓人，会牢牢抓住观众的心，再同主角慢慢揭开面纱，影片最后我想终究是导演不忍心了，也感慨好在是这样的一个结局。贾静雯好美啊！
Netflix，3.5分。比预期略好一点。节奏、影调甚至音乐还是很延续《阳光普照》的感觉，有点迟滞无解但又急于开解或者脱身，楼宇防水改造的蓝色塑料帘还是挺让我心动的设计。家庭风暴在并不成功的住院经历后荡平，最终那两场并置的危机（特别是山洪）更像是母亲似好未好精神状态延伸出的“现实状况”，也许是我不曾相信它得以化解。贾静雯和王净的表演并没有多大的触动能量，可能也是剧作本身缺乏可以刺痛尖刺的原因，而魏如萱的“好歌手”状态在电影里却成就了出戏和漂浮的糟糕表演。
真的很想说前15分钟很像疫情防控常态化宣传片欸！钟孟宏影调里的家，总是矛盾与爱共存，不同于《阳光普照》对普通家庭的悲剧性命运书写，《瀑布》则是中产家庭的不幸，我更喜欢前作。瀑布的主角只有母女二人，母女角色互换可能是最大的亮点，但片中矛盾的化解、人物的转变都极其的呆滞与割裂，故事也不过是个心理疾病的母亲和孝顺体贴女儿的故事，不够出彩，但能看。唯二的亮点是“铁打的台湾电影，永远不会拖堂的陈以文”和最后10分钟交叉蒙太奇锅里的水和瀑布，前者沸腾的熄灭了火，后者无情的冲散了人。
前半部分鬼影瞳瞳，然后画面逐渐转向明亮，正当一切向积极方向发展，当头一棒不给这个家庭留下任何希望。
从早期乐于铺展复杂的人际交织，到《阳光普照》中聚焦一个失意家庭，再到《瀑布》中刻画一对赖以生存的母女，钟孟宏所讲述的故事中的“关系”变得愈发简单，但他对人物内心的触动却愈发深入。这对母女经历了生存的绝境和精神的绝境，彼此的关系也曾陷入僵局，但最后还是能转角遇到希望，这一点希望在这个令人绝望的时代太重要了。
如果看商业片人就会复健的话，那不是神经病就是白痴了。
一个女人（贾静雯）三个帮，帮搬家（陈以文），帮抓蛇（刘冠廷），帮带新人（黄信尧）。
在母女關係中的人才能共情吧。賈靜雯最後那句呼喚值10000分。
瀑布是绝妙的隐喻。喻时局，疫情突袭，人自无力抵抗，家道中落，举步维艰；喻母女，叛逆与捆绑，不安的潜流，互相折磨又彼此需要的亲密关系：喻疾病，表面的平静，心魔的跌宕；喻命运，巨大神秘力量，苍天在上，苍生在下，肉体生命如浮尘，随时会在平静中遭遇洪水的突袭。
呆湾奈飞，就基本没有悬疑或科幻，
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