“男爵”在策划一起完美的银行抢劫案，目标是重达3吨的现金，又不用暴力强抢。为此他需要找到合适的、愿意为百万美元酬金为他效力的人…… 　　本片根据实事改编，2005年，一家巴西中央银行1.68亿里拉被盗（相当于8千万美元），这是历史上最大的和平时期抢劫案，也是一次最大胆的银行抢劫案。

Dedicado a una de las más famosas plazas de Berlín, éste es un trabajo sobre la memoria de un lugar fuertemente connotado por su inmediato pasado, por una historia cargada de hechos trágicos, poblada de fantasmas. Como en la antigua Universidad Laboral, la ideología fascista está presente, aunque aquí sea por la ausencia de sus huellas. También por la dialéctica de bloques que operó con rotundidad en este mismo espacio. Sin embargo, aunque todo eso esté ahí, de manera espectral, en lo que la artista centra principalmente su atención es en la reconstrucción de esta plaza en los años 90 como símbolo del nuevo orden político de la Alemania actual. Ahí se han construido edificios como monumentos al capitalismo corporativo que también construye a su manera muros y fronteras de exclusión.

当美国第四大的投资银行濒临倒闭时，全美国最大的银行CEO们被召集到华尔街的会议室里，研究挽救美国经济的整体崩溃。而Merrill Lynch作为最大的房贷保险公司，为了自救，不得不将公司卖给了花旗银行，而整个市场意外的出现信用崩溃。华尔街的主席不得不向白宫政府求援。在获得700亿美元的紧急援救款的情况下，美国最大的几家银行机构CEOs，被迫接受了政府的注资，失去了对自己银行的完全控制。由于Merrill的巨额债务150亿损失，花旗银行发现自己莫名的被拖入破产的地步，在政府的强制干预下，额外200亿纳税人的钱汇入花旗银行，这个艰难的公司合并勉强的完成了。 　　当金融危机出现时，银行的不负责任成为了最大魁首，自09年1月，美国的银行系统被国家直接控股，美国经济已经不在是一个自由市场了。

Charlie does everything but an efficient job as janitor. Edna buys her fiance, the cashier, a birthday present. Charlie thinks "To Charles with Love" is for him. He presents her a rose which she throws in the garbage. Depressed, Charlie dreams of a bank robbery and his heroic role in saving he manager and Edna ... but it is only a dream.

查理除了做一个高效的看门人外，什么都干。埃德娜给她的未婚夫收银员买了一份生日礼物。查理认为“爱查尔斯”是为了他。他送给她一朵玫瑰，她把它扔进了垃圾桶。郁闷的查理梦见了一场银行抢劫，梦见他在拯救经理和埃德娜时扮演的英雄角色。。。但这只是一个梦。

导演将自己放逐在时间之外的小岛上，在森林的木屋里安家。他独自一人，唯有一块永远停在11点36分23秒的钟表陪伴着他。在这里，他从木屋的窗户观察记忆。

After the cremation of his father, Vincent and his family gather relatives in the back shop of the family butchery for a final tribute. Vincent announce to his family that he leaves for some time with his boyfriend Olivier.

I began El Valley Centro in November of 1998; I was driving through the Great Central Valley looking for places to film. I wasn’t going to start shooting for at least six months; I wanted to just look and listen – to get to know the Valley well before I would make images. But almost immediately I came across an oil well fire with flames high into the sky. I returned home for my Bolex and Nagra. Determined that landscape is a function of time, I let a full roll of 16mm film (100 feet) run through the camera. At that moment I knew I would make a portrait of The Great Central Valley using 35 two and a half minute shots. 　　As its name suggests, the Great Central Valley – El Valley Centro in Spanish – runs long and wide down the middle of California, encompassing much of that vast state’s cultivated farmland. Benning’s film explores this vast area, his camera pausing for the allotted two and a half minutes before he cuts to another location, another vista presented for our absorption. There are no ‘actors’ as such, no ‘characters’, no ‘dialogue’ as we know it, no ‘narration’ as we know it, hardly any sounds, hardly any ‘real’ action. 　　But the audience soon realises that each of these apparent ‘absences’ is, in Benning’s hands, a plus. He forces us to concentrate our eyes and ears on what he shows us, and the attentive viewer will find their efforts more than amply rewarded. As well as slowly compiling a remarkable portrait of a remarkable place, Benning thrillingly redefines the basic syntax of film-making and film-watching. The effect is staggering – as one of Caspar David Friedrich’s contemporaries commented when seeing his painting ‘Monk by the Sea’ for the first time: “it is as if one’s eyelids had been cut off.” 　　The film begins with a shot of a lake, apparently draining away into what looks like a huge plughole. It’s an ideal starting point – we’re being drawn into Benning’s world as surely as the water is being drawn into that hole, and we’re aware that our eye is specifically being directed to a certain point on the screen. But the two and a half minutes for which this shot is projected gives us ample time to explore the peripheries, and this is also part of Benning’s grand design. This is equally true of the remaining 34 shots in the sequence – he shows us places where ‘nothing’ is apparently happening, but which he reveals as stages on which a drama unfolds: the ‘subject’ of the shot may be a series of tiny orange blobs in the distance (as in the sequence showing a penitentiary), but they’re enough. We can work out the rest for ourselves. 　　Benning works at the interface of mathematics and geography: the exact position of the camera is absolutely crucial – he’s faced with an infinite number of possibilities, and the essence of El Valley Centro lies in his process of selection. Timing is equally important – there’s no environment in the world where this kind of film can’t be made, provided the right two and a half minutes are chosen. Benning’s judgement is exceptional, and he’s also aided by some providential turns of fate, trains and cars coming into our out of shot at just the right time. 　　The most spectacular moment of serendipity comes during a shot of a large ship making its progress along a river – the river is invisible, all we can see is fields. Then, coming the other way, a smaller boat appears and passes in front of the ship. For a moment we’re disoriented – how can the water run both ways at once? Then we realise it’s more a matter of how the craft are being propelled. But while this activity is taking place on the water, a car appears – the road is as invisible as the channels – and zips along and out of sight. It’s a delightful moment of accidental choreography (just like a later shot of tumbleweeds skidding across a dusty scrubland, almost alive, like the corps in a Martian ballet.) 　　Benning himself calls the ship/boat/car scene ‘such a crowd-pleaser,’ ahere’s an unexpected strain of humour in the film – most overtly in the sequence showing a champion goat-tier, repeatedly catching, tying then letting go an increasingly befuddled-looking goat with her back squarely to camera. Once he’s established certain ‘rules’, Benning is able to have fun with his choice of images – on more than one occasion he has characters going about their work in the fields, slowly advancing towards the camera, closer and closer until they seem sure to collide. At the last minute, however, they turn back, never even acknowledging Benning’s presence. This is just as well – after just a few minutes inside the Benning world-view, the viewer’s eyes effectively become Benning’s camera: and if any of the figures in the landscape did look up and catch us staring, it would be impossible not to flinch and look guiltily away. 　　But the workers-in-the-field shots connect to Benning’s serious theme: he shows the Valley as a place of toil, of man’s incursion into the natural environment and, most of all, of ownership. After the final two-and-a-half-minute ‘action’ shot there’s a final section of equal length telling us where each sequence was filmed and, in most cases, which farming conglomerate owns the land. But Benning’s careful, patient approach invests so much in each scrap of landscape that he, too, becomes a kind of ‘owner’ – as do we, watching in the cinema as the indelible images burn into our minds. 　　As Chinatown famously shows us, water and power go hand in hand in California: one of the most fascinating of El Valley Centro’s shots shows the welcoming ‘gate’ above the road entering the city of Modesto, a neon slogan-board reading ‘Water wealth contentment health.’ The phrase takes on a savage irony in this kind of exhaustive geographical-political-social context: the film starts and ends with water, water flows through so many of the frames, its moneyed manipulators sequestered in offices far away from Benning’s prying lens. Modesto also happens to be George Lucas’s home town, the place he set his masterpiece American Graffiti – perhaps in homage, Benning’s Modesto shot also includes cars at night, the retro glow of neon, the excited voices of teenagers as they drive in and out of the frame. You have to strain to hear them, of course – but this is a film in which the buzzing of a fly becomes a major movie event. This is a film whose every single shot deserves a full-length essay of its own.

2014年，巴西阿尔及利亚导演卡里姆·埃诺兹曾带着前作《未来海岸》来到柏林，并提名最佳影片。新片《中央机场》是一部关于柏林废弃机场THF（滕珀尔霍夫机场）的纪录片，讲述关于出发与到达的议题，以及那些来这里逃离日常生活的柏林人和那些终于“到达”于此的难民。

护士周筱和警察陆玮这一对即将分手的恋人，因为一场突如其来的病毒来袭而各自奔赴前线，在经过生死的考验后，突破阻隔，两个心变得更为紧密。