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."
毕竟现实中四处暗涌，实在算不上什么瀑布，最多也就算块破布了
可以给两星，但因为分数太虚高，只能给1星。剧本奇差，又是一出生活绝望片，锺孟宏每次都搞这种类似的剧本，看多了就没意思了，更何况这部的调度奇差。贾静雯表演不错，王净还是那三板斧。
渡过决堤的围困，任心头的瀑布落下，之后的 如溪流般蜿蜒绵长的，就是人生吧//最初看预告以为是讲疫情期间爆发的母女矛盾，叛逆少女和无奈母亲之类的，没想到真正心理出现问题的人是母亲，女儿变得柔韧坚强学会承担。其实按照前半段的情节，把电影名改为《阳光普照2.0》也绝对没问题，到了末尾终于点题“瀑布”…有刘冠廷陈以文的片子都不会差！
开篇定场镜头寓意拉满，时时刻刻都在上演障眼法的不可靠叙事，产生的是不得不接受的生活形式的确定性，如此落差，无论是片名、生活的剧变、疫情、还是捍卫文明法治免受暴虐邪毒的侵袭，都不用为了意义放弃故事，也就是你可以相信你活在当下，而不用选择活在当下，什么“已经永远改变了”、“毁灭吧，赶紧的”、“假装一切还能好起来”等等厌世的狗屁说辞在此并不适用，不适用的原因最后还要再提醒下就是：这是台湾电影，人家拍的是台湾！！！
疫情还是病情，换个角度，都可以豁然开朗
7/10。私心喜欢这部多于同为金马最佳影片的导演前作《阳光普照》，华语影坛有了自己的疫情电影。日常惊悚化处理偷师不少黑泽清吧，但仍带有杨德昌之后台湾电影的温情。“瀑布”比喻家道中落，The Falls与fall，狡黠直白也有命题作文之嫌，尤其是结尾扣题的突发洪水，但我就莫名爱它的任性，同理那条真实出现在电视机后面的蛇。蓝色布幕太像《蓝》了，而贾静雯比不上朱丽叶·比诺什。“不要一直问我你还好吗？”
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。
瀑布，汇流而下，成为小溪，最终于大海；记忆，痛苦不堪，成为记忆，最终于过去。太细腻了，太细腻了，一个家庭，一个女人，从幸福到不幸再到幸福的过程。
3.5，整体不如上一作《阳光普照》。台湾病人。从疫情、隔离生发出的个人精神史，用瀑布比喻情感的跌宕起伏，即使咆哮奔腾，最后终归于桃花潭水的平静，与自己和解。贾静雯和王净都发挥出色演技，母女关系的反转拿捏到位。片中充满大量符号，黑泽明的海报，蛇，翻页钟，还有一些很妙的人物设计，比如便利店的老伯，房产中介的经理。
自从《倚天屠龙记》之后再没有看过贾静雯的表演，这次和王净搭档真的很不错，近来发现，很多小女生的演技真的很棒，比如陈妍霏，文淇等。比年轻男演员出彩的多。
“每个人都有难堪的过去，只是大小不同而已。而且未来会怎样，没有人知道。”王净👍
虽然《瀑布》只是将新冠疫情作为了展开剧情的契机，但这并不妨碍这部电影成为迄今为止关于疫情最好的作品。电影从疫情背景下一对母女不易的生活为展开，细腻入微的人物情感塑造以及恰到好处的情绪渲染，使电影真正拥有了让人能为之共情的代入感，生活总会有不顺遂的意外，但也总会有它的温柔美好。
疫情背景之下聚焦于家庭关系。房屋外因做防水工程而贴的蓝色帆布，使家中有了冷（暗）与暖（明）的二个空间。工程结束蓝布得以摘除，母女之间的关系也得到了缓和。离婚失去另一半，工资被减薪，母亲得了精神疾病，道出听到瀑布的声音。瀑布落下，即是一种下坠、坠落的过程。下坠到平地而又得到缓冲，结尾就是给我这样一种感觉，平和安详的。
一个渣男引发的母女悲剧，世界从彩色变成只剩下蓝色。Ps. 只有我超介意，都密接了回家却不先洗手么😂 女神老了也美 pss. 台北4500万的房子果然装修的很有品味，他们新搬的这个房子是不就是《美国女孩》那一户？
最近的确流了太多眼泪了，谢谢钟孟宏，谢谢电影。我也相信阳光会再照进来，糟糕的抑郁会过去，然后不时会再下起雨。晴晴雨雨的，人生就是这么一回事。
整体的电影色调是那种很舒服的明亮感，画面很通透，人物打光很足，故事是传统讲述和细腻表达，不过整个框架太平缓，没有太多的冲突，总觉得少了些强烈的主题，延续富有特色的清幽配乐，贾静雯和王静演技可以的（里面口罩大小不合适，总是不贴合面部；台湾的房产中介这么良心的吗，让人直呼666。）
单亲家庭、中年危机、衰败中产，这些元素以贾静雯的思觉失调贯穿构建起来，整体偏向于电视电影的质感。而疫情这个时代外壳，没有发挥出很好的作用。贾静雯的确非常适合饰演成熟职场女性这类角色，例如《我们与恶的距离》里宋乔安。
很喜欢但又感觉散乱和寡淡，贾静雯的形象很出色，疫情的时代背景，个体在瀑布中的溺水无助，但女儿的长大和母亲被摧毁后的重建又是这部电影的光，在这个绝望的溺水式的个体环境里是生之欲让每个人又重拾信心。喜欢钟孟宏的缓慢和一些生活的插曲旁叙，但本片前段的心理悬疑急转到生活鸡汤让人觉得太过于晃荡和割裂，感觉一个整体的主题分裂的过于零散。电影展现的疫情之后的社会，失业、居家隔离、人际的交往很真实也很压迫，疫情一个时代的标志，钟孟宏抓住了这种真实，而遗憾的是在电影的后半段就弃用了这个标志性的背景板，仅仅把它当做一种诱发性的工具只作为牵引出个人的故事的功效实在有些可惜。
作品质量蹭蹭往上走
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。
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