In 1961, Stanislaw Rozewicz created the novella film &quotBirth Certificate&quot 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 &quotits madmen and its saints&quot and most importanly, the &quotKinema&quot cinema, as Stanislaw recalls: for him cinema is &quotheaven, the whole world, enchantment&quot. Tadeusz says he considers cinema both a charming market stall and a mysterious temple. &quotAll this savage land has always attracted and fascinated me,&quot he says. &quotI am devoured by cinema and I devour cinema I&#39m a cinema eater.&quot But Taduesz Rozewicz, an eminent writer, admits this unique form of cooperation was a problem to him: &quotIt 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.&quot 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 &quotBirth Certificate&quot, rather than &quotEcho&quot or &quotThe Wicked Gate&quot, 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 &quotbirth certificate&quot. When working on the film, the director said &quotThis 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.&quot　　The principle of composition of &quotBirth Certificate&quot 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&#39s 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 &quotOn the Road&quot. We do not know whether in &quotLetter from the Camp&quot, 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 &quotDrop of Blood&quot is also unclear. Will she keep her new impersonation as &quotMarysia Malinowska&quot? Or will the Nazis make her into a representative of the &quotNordic race&quot? 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 &quotBirth Certificate&quot 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&#39s &quotBlind Chance&quot 25 years later, which pictured dramatic choices of a different era.　　The film novella &quotOn the Road&quot 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 &quotOn the Road&quot 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 &quotan 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.&quot &quotBirth Certificate&quot is not a lofty statement about national imponderabilia. The film reveals a plebeian perspective which Aleksander Jackieqicz once contrasted with those &quotlyrical lamentations&quot inherent in the Kordian tradition. However, a historical overview of Rozewicz&#39s work shows that the distinctive style does not signify a fundamental difference in illustrating the Polish September. Just as the memorable scene from Wajda&#