故事发生在1973年，美国康涅狄格州的一个普通家庭。 　　这是水门事件的年代，总统的形象、社会的权威，都受到严重挑战。而普通的人们，更是备受那个时代混乱的文化观念、性观念的困扰，家庭濒临破裂的边缘。 　　这个普通的家庭本来可以生活得很平静，但时代的大潮把他们推进了混乱的边缘。平凡乏味的家庭生活使中年的夫妻厌倦，丈夫本·胡德一直在引诱邻居珍妮特·哈珀，而妻子对丈夫的谎言也早已不耐烦了，她与一双儿女无意中目睹了丈夫与女邻居偷情的场面，夫妻间一场情感风暴即将爆发。 　　在一个暴风雨的夜晚，夫妻两个去朋友家参加一个鸡尾酒会，鸡尾酒会的一个重要内容是进行换宅门钥匙的游戏。这样酒会结束后，每个妻子都可以和别家男人结成新的性伴侣。这是那个年代流行的游戏，夫妻两个一方面无力抗拒潮流风气，另一方面也无法接受这样荒唐的享乐生活。两个人都成了别人的性伴侣，但最终还是相携归去。 　　本的女儿和儿子也不安分，女儿正陶醉在同邻家男孩子进行的性游戏中，儿子则受到性感的富家女孩的诱惑。就在小镇各家都被荒唐的游戏刺激得兴奋不已之时，一场30年来罕见的暴风雪袭击而来。邻家的男孩死于暴风雪引起的电击，本夫妇和邻居遭到如同天遣般的报应。 　　好在儿子平安归来，一家四口又重聚在一起，但这个风雪之夜带给他们的震荡还远远无法平息。

故事发生在1973年，美国康涅狄格州的一个普通家庭。　　这是水门事件的年代，总统的形象、社会的权威，都受到严重挑战。而普通的人们，更是备受那个时…

梅丽莎（艾米·斯马特 Amy Smart 饰）和华裔玉林（Tim Chiou 饰）是一对来自美国的新婚夫妇，他们将蜜月地点选在玉林的家乡——中国广东某县。异域文化让土生土长的美国女孩梅丽莎好奇、惊喜，不过也许他们挑错了时机。是时正值农历七月，中国的鬼节临近。当地导游平（Dennis Chan 饰）驱车载着二人前往玉林的家。夜深人静，道路蜿蜒，人生地不熟的平失去方向，来到一片陌生的村庄。平下车问路，却始终不见回来。夫妻二人焦急万分，于是下车寻找。他们一无所获，反而被恐怖的叫声下的失魂落魄。 　　两人驱车逃跑，一路上惊险不断。梅丽莎曾和平谈论过饿死鬼的传说，而在鬼门大开的时分，似乎饿死鬼并非只是传说……

梅丽莎（艾米·斯马特 Amy Smart 饰）和华裔玉林（Tim Chiou 饰）是一对来自美国的新婚夫妇，他们将蜜月地点选在玉林的家乡——中国广东某县。异域文化让土生土长的美国女孩梅丽莎好奇、惊喜，不过也许他们挑错了时机。是时正值农历七月，中国的鬼节临近。当地导游平（Dennis Chan 饰）驱车载着二人前往玉林的家。夜深人静，道路蜿蜒，人生地不熟的平失去方向，来到一片陌生的村庄。平下车问路，却始终不见回来。夫妻二人焦急万分，于是下车寻找。他们一无所获，反而被恐怖的叫声下的失魂落魄。 　　两人驱车逃跑，一路上惊险不断。梅丽莎曾和平谈论过饿死鬼的传说，而在鬼门大开的时分，似乎饿死鬼并非只是传说……

Darezhan Omirbaev's penchant for spare, elliptical narrative, muted figures, and disembodied framing (most notably, of hands and feet) have often been (favorably) compared to the rigorous aesthetic of Robert Bresson. However, in imposing such a somber - and inescapably cerebral - analogy, there is also a propensity to overlook the wry, self-effacing humor and irony of situation that pervade his films: a lyricism that equally captures the human comedy in all its contradictions and nobility from the margins of Soviet society. This sense of the quotidian as a continuum of human experience, elegantly rendered in Omirbaev's recent film, The Road through Amir's recurring daydream of a mother milking a cow and her intrusive child (who, in turn, looks remarkably like Amir's own son) in rural Kazakhstan (an image that subsequently proves to be a catalytic historical memory from his childhood when man landed on the moon), can also be seen from the outset of Omirbaev's cinema through his incorporation of a decidedly Buñuelian sequence in the short film, July of a young boy who, while on the lookout for guards near the foothills of a kolkhoz commissary, curiously finds himself wandering into a recital hall where the performance of a young pianist is punctuated by the appearance of a horseman on the stage. Part pastoral observation on the pervasiveness of underdevelopment and the austerity of life in the rural villages of Soviet-era collective farms (and in particular, at the outlying frontiers of the Soviet Central Asia), and part autofiction on a pair of restless boys whose penchant for escapist (mis)adventures reveal a nascent, if displaced, creative sensibility, July establishes the aesthetic framework that would come to define Omirbaev's cinema: the overture of first love depicted through seemingly innocent - yet deliberate - passing touches (the bus encounter in Kaïrat, the movie house flirtation in July); the frustration of isolation inherent in a rural childhood manifested through acts of mischief (the opening sequence of Kaïrat, the courtyard fight of Kardiogramma), the subconscious act of self-reflection illustrated through literal self-reflection through the reflected image of a rear view mirror (Marat's drive home from the hospital in Killer, Amir's extended road trip to visit his ailing mother in The Road). Inevitably, what proves to be the most remarkable - and irresistible - aspect of Omirbaev's deceptively simple coming of age film is its ability to capture the interpenetration between reality and fiction interpenetrate with such seemingly effortless, uninhibited intimacy - a wide eyed innocence that hovers in the ephemeral - ever teetering between solemnity and absurdity, boredom and roguishness, anxiety and imagination.

Darezhan Omirbaev's penchant for spare, elliptical narrative, muted figures, and disembodied framing (most notably, of hands and feet) have often been (favorably) compared to the rigorous aesthetic of Robert Bresson. However, in imposing such a somber - and inescapably cerebral - analogy, there is also a propensity to overlook the wry, self-effacing humor and irony of situation that pervade his films: a lyricism that equally captures the human comedy in all its contradictions and nobility from the margins of Soviet society. This sense of the quotidian as a continuum of human experience, elegantly rendered in Omirbaev's recent film, The Road through Amir's recurring daydream of a mother milking a cow and her intrusive child (who, in turn, looks remarkably like Amir's own son) in rural Kazakhstan (an image that subsequently proves to be a catalytic historical memory from his childhood when man landed on the moon), can also be seen from the outset of Omirbaev's cinema through his incorporation of a decidedly Buñuelian sequence in the short film, July of a young boy who, while on the lookout for guards near the foothills of a kolkhoz commissary, curiously finds himself wandering into a recital hall where the performance of a young pianist is punctuated by the appearance of a horseman on the stage. Part pastoral observation on the pervasiveness of underdevelopment and the austerity of life in the rural villages of Soviet-era collective farms (and in particular, at the outlying frontiers of the Soviet Central Asia), and part autofiction on a pair of restless boys whose penchant for escapist (mis)adventures reveal a nascent, if displaced, creative sensibility, July establishes the aesthetic framework that would come to define Omirbaev's cinema: the overture of first love depicted through seemingly innocent - yet deliberate - passing touches (the bus encounter in Kaïrat, the movie house flirtation in July); the frustration of isolation inherent in a rural childhood manifested through acts of mischief (the opening sequence of Kaïrat, the courtyard fight of Kardiogramma), the subconscious act of self-reflection illustrated through literal self-reflection through the reflected image of a rear view mirror (Marat's drive home from the hospital in Killer, Amir's extended road trip to visit his ailing mother in The Road). Inevitably, what proves to be the most remarkable - and irresistible - aspect of Omirbaev's deceptively simple coming of age film is its ability to capture the interpenetration between reality and fiction interpenetrate with such seemingly effortless, uninhibited intimacy - a wide eyed innocence that hovers in the ephemeral - ever teetering between solemnity and absurdity, boredom and roguishness, anxiety and imagination.

在北京“漂”着的青年摄影师泉子夫妇与人合住一套两居室，可合租者搬来了半个月，泉子还没有见过她。 　　 　　妻子不满于泉子为了所谓的理想把生活搞得很窘迫，以爱上别人为由从家里搬走了。这时候，正赶上泉子的弟弟小东来北京投奔他。 　　 　　泉子到西藏拍一个广告片，邂逅女演员青青。在美丽的圣湖那木错，青青对泉子产生好感。 　　 　　回到北京，泉子发现青青竟然跟自己住在一套房子里。 　　 　　一边是青青的情感表白，一边是对妻子的怀念。泉子限入困苦和迷惘。偏偏在这时候，泉子的弟弟跟踪发现了嫂子的踪迹，用啤酒瓶砸破了嫂子上司/情人的头。 　　 　　弟弟从拘留所出来，伤感地离开了北京。 　　 　　青青失望于泉子在感情上的游移，也搬走了。泉子又回到了单身的状态。一切已经物是人非，生活似乎完全变化了，又似乎什么都没有改变。

在北京“漂”着的青年摄影师泉子夫妇与人合住一套两居室，可合租者搬来了半个月，泉子还没有见过她。 　　 　　妻子不满于泉子为了所谓的理想把生活搞得很窘迫，以爱上别人为由从家里搬走了。这时候，正赶上泉子的弟弟小东来北京投奔他。 　　 　　泉子到西藏拍一个广告片，邂逅女演员青青。在美丽的圣湖那木错，青青对泉子产生好感。 　　 　　回到北京，泉子发现青青竟然跟自己住在一套房子里。 　　 　　一边是青青的情感表白，一边是对妻子的怀念。泉子限入困苦和迷惘。偏偏在这时候，泉子的弟弟跟踪发现了嫂子的踪迹，用啤酒瓶砸破了嫂子上司/情人的头。 　　 　　弟弟从拘留所出来，伤感地离开了北京。 　　 　　青青失望于泉子在感情上的游移，也搬走了。泉子又回到了单身的状态。一切已经物是人非，生活似乎完全变化了，又似乎什么都没有改变。

汉堡某所高校，暑假生活即将开始的前一天，茱莉（Christiane Paul）向她爱慕已久的物理教师丹尼（Moritz Bleibtreu）兜售了一个有太阳标识的戒指，并告诉他在晚上的Party上会遇见一个身上也有该标识的女孩，那会是他的真爱。茱莉所说的女孩本是她自己，不想身上也有相同太阳标识的、来汉堡旅行的土耳其女孩梅丽克被丹尼遇见。 　　意识到爱上梅丽克后，丹尼决定更改自己的暑期计划，开车去伊斯坦堡尔向她表白，在他出发时，遇上正失魂落魄的茱莉，后者听过他的想法，灵机一动说也去土耳其过她的暑假，两人一起上路。路上，两人遭遇诸多令人捧腹又难以置信的波折，丹尼的性格逐渐改变，也慢慢意识到上帝派给他的爱人其实就在身边。