影片描述了美国40年代工人阶级的生活处境、工作条件、所受资本家的压迫、工人们为争取自己应得权利与工作保障所进行的正义斗争，以及工人内部和家庭内部的关系等。 　　美国40年代新墨西哥州的一个城镇矿区，德列维尔锌公司的矿工拉蒙·金泰罗已在井下度过了18年。公司制订的新规章不合理，工人得冒着更大的生命危险下井工作。又一次伤亡事故发生了，工人们提出的合理要求被公司拒绝后，在拉蒙的带领下，工人们开始了罢工。为支持罢工，拉蒙的老婆爱丝波朗莎将妇女组织起来，成为罢工工人有力的后援队。拉蒙被老板买通的警方抓走，一个月后又被放出来。而后老板又买通法院，污蔑工人犯了塔夫脱-哈特莱法，由爱丝波朗莎领导的妇女挺身而出，接替了罢工工人纠察队的工作，因为塔夫脱-哈特莱法不适用于她们。爱丝波朗莎等一干妇女被关了几天后又放了出来，无计可施的老板软硬兼施：一面动员罢工工人去打猎，一面派警察对付留在家里的妇女。多亏拉蒙带领矿工及时赶回，使狼狈的警察无功而返。最后，罢工取得胜利，无奈的老板答应了工人的要求。 　　http://movie.mtime.com/13319/

著名学者汤尼·雷恩谈《双旗镇刀客》，收录于碟影传媒发行的WCL系列蓝光中。

纪录片依托中国百年考古的丰硕成果，以纵向时间为线索，追溯中华文明的根基、发源与早期形成和发展。纪录片由中国考古学泰斗严文明担任学术总顾问，近百位中国考古学家组成顾问专家团。 　　纪录片分《秦汉》、《摇篮》、《星斗》、《古国》、《择中》、《殷商》、《家国》、《天下》8集，从迈向一体化的秦汉王朝讲起，进而溯源至旧、新石器时代之交，见证中华大地的先民走向农业定居，组成家庭和社会，建立早期信仰与文化审美，开始五湖四海间的交流，形成区域古国和早期文明，开启夏商周的王朝时代，直至秦汉建立统一多民族国家的伟大历程，交出了一份宏大、深邃又生动的时代文化答卷。

"SMG倾力打造的大型系列纪录片《何以中国》由国家文物局和上海市委宣传部指导、上海市文物局支持、上海广播电视台东方卫视中心和百视TV联合出品。 纪录片《何以中国》依托中国百年考古的丰硕成果，以纵向时间为线索，追溯中华文明的根基、发源与早期形成和发展。纪录片由中国考古学泰斗严文明担任学术总顾问，近百位中国考古学家组成顾问专家团，透过历史的长镜头，探寻中华民族和中华文明多元一体、家国一体的形成、发展过程。 纪录片《何以中国》共8集，以《摇篮》、《星斗》、《古国》、《择中》、《殷商》、《家国》、《天下》、《秦汉》为题，从旧、新石器之交开始，见证中国大地的人们走向农业定居社会，建立美学和信仰，组成家庭和社会，开始天南海北的文化交流，形成城邦和区域国家，诞生广域王权国家：夏、商和周，直至秦汉帝国统一。由此，纪录片全方位解码了中国大地之上百万年的人类史、一万年的文化史、五千多年的文明史，交出了一份宏大、深邃又生动的时代文化答卷。"

在中国珠江三角洲地区，有着相对形态完备的文化传统以及在各历史时期所遗留下来的各类文化表征。这片土地上所发生的故事，丰富而多元。今天的华南乡野间，依然有大量的文化人士辛勤耕耘。面对着传统和现代的冲突，保守和创新的抉择，他们存在于各种利益关系间，共谋或者博弈。 　　《乡村中的知识分子》所描述的就是这么一位现代乡村文化的自觉者，他秉持着自己对文化、历史的责任，思考政策和变革的逻辑，在乡野之间发生着强大而又坚韧的作用。正是因为有这样的人物存在，我们可以看到中国传统文化的根基，以及他们所面对的问题。 　　片中的主角“三哥”许钜泉,是一位在珠三角乡村中主持“红白”法事的“喃摩佬”。三哥本事了得，懂书法，会对联，同时操持着村中族中的大小事务，神诞节庆；他的文字——自撰的、抄写的、画符的、仪式性的、道士的、士大夫的、正经的、戏谑的，在庙里，在祠堂，在家里，在科仪书中，在族谱上——充满在乡村每一个角落，游移于多重世界之间，构成了一套整全的世界观，将村里的老老少少连结在一起。毫无疑问，三哥是乡村中的知识分子。 　　纪录片通过近十年的跟踪拍摄，记录三哥在乡村中的日常，记录乡村里的神诞节庆，记录乡间生活、民俗活动的浮浮沉沉。我们希望籍着今天的影像，共同探讨文化传统对历史及未来的意义和可能。

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.

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。