本片改编自德昆西写于1850年代的散文（《康德晚年及其他散文》），展现了康德去世前最后几年的生活。电影聚焦于这位伟大的哲学家那怪异的、强迫性的生活习惯，较少涉及他的哲学思想。全片最戏剧性的情节是，服侍了康德三十年的仆人突然决定离开。

本片改编自德昆西写于1850年代的散文（《康德晚年及其他散文》），展现了康德去世前最后几年的生活。电影聚焦于这位伟大的哲学家那怪异的、强迫性的生活习惯，较少涉及他的哲学思想。全片最戏剧性的情节是，服侍了康德三十年的仆人突然决定离开。

This three part French TV serial for children (alternate versions exist as a feature, Manoel's Destinies, and a 4 part Portuguese TV serial, Adventure in Madeira) is the favourite of many devotees of Raúl Ruiz. This is because it ties the enchantment and mystery of Lewis Carroll, Carlo Collodi and the Brothers Grimm to the filmmaker's experiments with narrative strategies and what he calls the pentaludic model of storytelling (where characters are thrown dice-like into combinations and situations governed by the play of Chance and Destiny). 　　But this film for children is among his most complex works, hard to grasp in its totality. Often it can seem an arbitrary collection of free-associational images and words, bordering on nonsense. But attentive viewers will have the strong sense that there is method behind this near-madness. Otherwise, it could never produce the intense emotions it so clearly offers. Ruiz's obsessions from film to film bind the fragments together – within a single work and across projects – and the emotion comes from the totally unexpected forking taken within a well-worn territorial map. 　　Part One presents us with three possible worlds. In each world, seven year-old Manoel has a different response to an entreaty from the outside world. Fittingly, in this film in which nothing coincides, the three parts of the story do not coincide with the three-episode structure (the trinity-form recurs frequently in Ruiz). In this case, past, present and future – the unholy trinity or Time en soi – is the film's very protagonist, variously called 'long ago' (Part One), 'now' (Part Two), and 'future' (Part Three). At the outset, this gives the story an apparent order before digressions take it over. 　　Part Two (the status of which is at first confusing since it begins after the three mini-narratives of the first Part and before the end of Episode One) is entitled 'The Picnic of Dreams'. Whilst vaguely 'keeping to the storyline', it veers off in many different directions, where the thematic coupling ordinary/special replaces the familiar/unknown dualism of Part One. (Each Part is guided by a thematic 'dominant', a pair of notions that tend to exchange their meanings as it progresses.) 　　Part Three (beginning in Episode Two), entitled 'The Little Chess-Champion', hands the (until now) off-screen voice-over narration to Manoel himself. He promises to tell his own story, but adds that it's 'a story that I made up in my distant childhood and that happens in the future'. The tone is less Baroque, more Gothic, as Ruiz explores the 'wonders of the night'. The filmmaker's obsession in this section concerns perception and the deciphering of secret signs and codes.

This three part French TV serial for children (alternate versions exist as a feature, Manoel's Destinies, and a 4 part Portuguese TV serial, Adventure in Madeira) is the favourite of many devotees of Raúl Ruiz. This is because it ties the enchantment and mystery of Lewis Carroll, Carlo Collodi and the Brothers Grimm to the filmmaker's experiments with narrative strategies and what he calls the pentaludic model of storytelling (where characters are thrown dice-like into combinations and situations governed by the play of Chance and Destiny). 　　But this film for children is among his most complex works, hard to grasp in its totality. Often it can seem an arbitrary collection of free-associational images and words, bordering on nonsense. But attentive viewers will have the strong sense that there is method behind this near-madness. Otherwise, it could never produce the intense emotions it so clearly offers. Ruiz's obsessions from film to film bind the fragments together – within a single work and across projects – and the emotion comes from the totally unexpected forking taken within a well-worn territorial map. 　　Part One presents us with three possible worlds. In each world, seven year-old Manoel has a different response to an entreaty from the outside world. Fittingly, in this film in which nothing coincides, the three parts of the story do not coincide with the three-episode structure (the trinity-form recurs frequently in Ruiz). In this case, past, present and future – the unholy trinity or Time en soi – is the film's very protagonist, variously called 'long ago' (Part One), 'now' (Part Two), and 'future' (Part Three). At the outset, this gives the story an apparent order before digressions take it over. 　　Part Two (the status of which is at first confusing since it begins after the three mini-narratives of the first Part and before the end of Episode One) is entitled 'The Picnic of Dreams'. Whilst vaguely 'keeping to the storyline', it veers off in many different directions, where the thematic coupling ordinary/special replaces the familiar/unknown dualism of Part One. (Each Part is guided by a thematic 'dominant', a pair of notions that tend to exchange their meanings as it progresses.) 　　Part Three (beginning in Episode Two), entitled 'The Little Chess-Champion', hands the (until now) off-screen voice-over narration to Manoel himself. He promises to tell his own story, but adds that it's 'a story that I made up in my distant childhood and that happens in the future'. The tone is less Baroque, more Gothic, as Ruiz explores the 'wonders of the night'. The filmmaker's obsession in this section concerns perception and the deciphering of secret signs and codes.

In 1933, a young woman leaves her rural home to chase her dream of becoming a writer in the city. She takes a job as a maid for a middle-aged printing house owner who quickly starts pursuing her romantically. They marry, but his passionate declarations of love soon turn cold. As political tensions rise in the country, their love story unfolds in a divided society, revealing toxic behaviours and power games that start innocently but lead to dire consequences.

一位即将失去全部视力的年轻人，通过不懈努力，终于成为慕尼黑一家五星级豪华酒店餐厅服务生。

The Nuer call themselves Naath. Only their immediate neighbors, the Dinka, Shilluk and Arabs, call them Nuer. Most foreigners, which includes those with whom the Nuer neither fought nor traded, are called Bar which means 'almost entirely cattleless'. Those foreigners who live even more remotely and include Europeans are called Jur which means 'entirely cattleless', a most unthinkable state indeed. 　　The people of Ciengach, where the film was made, are the Eastern Jikany, one of about a sixteen distinct tribes of Nuer. Twenty-five years ago E.E. Evans Pritchard estimated the total population of Nuer to be around a quarter of a million. Since then the number has undoubtedly dwindled considerably due to warfare, civil strife, sickness, drought and the general abandonment of traditional lifeways. 　　However, those who still called themselves Naath did so with an extraordinarily vivid image of themselves as superior people living a superior life. Furthermore, it was impossible not to see that their lives were inextricably tied to their herds. Ciengach is a perfected plan for co-posperity of cows and humans. 　　It cannot be said that filming the Nuer was an easy task, but visually it was always absorbing. They were seldom resentful as was the rule with the Islamicized Afar in the Danakil Desert to the Northeast. On the contrary, the Nuer had a real, even exaggerated, sense of their importance. They considered themselves handsome and displayed their elegance with pride. 　　Nuer existence has, consistent with life led on a flood plain, an almost tidal rhythm due largely to the movement of cattle into and out of the villages. At almost precisely 10:30 in the morning cows and bulls began to groan, stand up and in other ways indicate that the time had come for them to be released and on their way to graze. Within moments the entire herd was sounding a unified complaint. Men and boys then slipped the tethers from their necks and the flow of cattle began. Five more minutes and the village was virtually silent. The herd had receded toward the river and to whatever grass the younger men could find. So the days passed into twilights of returning herds and men and the nights were filled with stars and an almost intoxicating 'bucolia.'

The Nuer call themselves Naath. Only their immediate neighbors, the Dinka, Shilluk and Arabs, call them Nuer. Most foreigners, which includes those with whom the Nuer neither fought nor traded, are called Bar which means 'almost entirely cattleless'. Those foreigners who live even more remotely and include Europeans are called Jur which means 'entirely cattleless', a most unthinkable state indeed. 　　The people of Ciengach, where the film was made, are the Eastern Jikany, one of about a sixteen distinct tribes of Nuer. Twenty-five years ago E.E. Evans Pritchard estimated the total population of Nuer to be around a quarter of a million. Since then the number has undoubtedly dwindled considerably due to warfare, civil strife, sickness, drought and the general abandonment of traditional lifeways. 　　However, those who still called themselves Naath did so with an extraordinarily vivid image of themselves as superior people living a superior life. Furthermore, it was impossible not to see that their lives were inextricably tied to their herds. Ciengach is a perfected plan for co-posperity of cows and humans. 　　It cannot be said that filming the Nuer was an easy task, but visually it was always absorbing. They were seldom resentful as was the rule with the Islamicized Afar in the Danakil Desert to the Northeast. On the contrary, the Nuer had a real, even exaggerated, sense of their importance. They considered themselves handsome and displayed their elegance with pride. 　　Nuer existence has, consistent with life led on a flood plain, an almost tidal rhythm due largely to the movement of cattle into and out of the villages. At almost precisely 10:30 in the morning cows and bulls began to groan, stand up and in other ways indicate that the time had come for them to be released and on their way to graze. Within moments the entire herd was sounding a unified complaint. Men and boys then slipped the tethers from their necks and the flow of cattle began. Five more minutes and the village was virtually silent. The herd had receded toward the river and to whatever grass the younger men could find. So the days passed into twilights of returning herds and men and the nights were filled with stars and an almost intoxicating 'bucolia.'