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.

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.

BOLD是一位网络虚构身份，一个匿名发布裸照的人。这群人希望被观看，他们希望得到满足。通过这样做赚一些钱只是额外的奖励。在疫情期间被困在家里，BOLD陷入了自我的存在危机，并最终直面了他与父亲的问题。在他会说话的猫的陪伴下，以及一些药物的帮助下，他深入探讨了互联网的混乱。在奇怪男人的坚强臂膀中寻求庇护，BOLD通过手淫实现了真正的幸福。在技术和社交媒体的纷乱中，他向他的猫询问自己在这个世界中的位置。如果他展翅飞翔，他能飞吗？

BOLD是一位网络虚构身份，一个匿名发布裸照的人。这群人希望被观看，他们希望得到满足。通过这样做赚一些钱只是额外的奖励。在疫情期间被困在家里，BOLD陷入了自我的存在危机，并最终直面了他与父亲的问题。在他会说话的猫的陪伴下，以及一些药物的帮助下，他深入探讨了互联网的混乱。在奇怪男人的坚强臂膀中寻求庇护，BOLD通过手淫实现了真正的幸福。在技术和社交媒体的纷乱中，他向他的猫询问自己在这个世界中的位置。如果他展翅飞翔，他能飞吗？

作家王思电影处女作《美森谷地》

The show follows the action-packed adventures of two Los Angeles robbery/homicide detectives, Chase McDonald and August Brooks. The detectives are as different as night and day, but they work great together at keeping the streets of L.A. safe. Chase also makes extra money on the side by selling metal sculptures he makes himself, while August spends his free time running a youth center for underprivileged teens.

The show follows the action-packed adventures of two Los Angeles robbery/homicide detectives, Chase McDonald and August Brooks. The detectives are as different as night and day, but they work great together at keeping the streets of L.A. safe. Chase also makes extra money on the side by selling metal sculptures he makes himself, while August spends his free time running a youth center for underprivileged teens.

70年代南方的一个山村，三岁男童黄永（黄海冰饰）为他的好奇心付出了惨痛代价：被工厂的风机夺去左臂，由此注定了命运的坎坷与非同凡响。15岁时厄运再次降临，父亲不慎摔伤。为给父亲治病，黄永跟着母亲四处借钱，深刻体会到了金钱与尊严的关系。为了从他的对头陆天宇家里得到借款，他不得不忍辱鞭打自己。此事深深刺痛了他，决心辍学挣钱养家。他学习成绩优优异，所以这个决定在家里和学校掀起轩然大波。黄永生性执拗、一根筋，父亲的责打，母亲的哀求，学校的挽留，这一切都没能阻拦住他。 　　黄永满怀憧憬，来到传说中遍地可以挣钱的广州，却因肢残，接连被31家单位拒之门外。黄永鬼精，用报纸卷成假肢装进袖筒冒充断臂，混进一家工厂，但假相很快就被戳穿。他流落街头，又峰回路转：一个老太太眼看坠楼，众人干喊却怕惹事，不愿上前营救，黄永用他的独臂托住了老人。之后老人拄着拐杖，带着黄永跑到辞退黄永的厂子，揪住厂主就打，原来厂主正是她儿子，黄永终于又找到了工作。 　　陆天宇（朱铁饰）是与黄永同村的富家子弟，因为他暗恋的同班女生李佳惠总帮助黄永，黄永便成了他的死对头。他来到广州舅舅家过暑假，在舅舅开的厂子撞见了黄永，陆天宇趁舅舅不在，制造事端将黄永赶出厂子。 　　黄永重新流落街头，装成残疾人的乞丐赖兴庆看中了黄永肢残，引诱他加入乞丐帮。一个老太太好心向黄永施舍，赖兴庆一伙却趁机偷了老人救儿子命的一千元钱。黄永死缠着赖兴庆要他归还老人，赖兴庆将钱扔进开水锅里，黄永毅然下手去捞，镇住了赖兴庆一伙。赖兴庆逮住了一个叫螺壳的流浪儿，欲将其胳膊打断，迫使其行乞。黄永在救螺壳的过程中，无意间发现了毒贩翟丙稀的贩毒黑幕，遭到翟丙稀的追杀。 　　李佳惠一心要帮助黄永，利用暑假和孔丽丽追到了广州，却被黄永无情拒绝。孔丽丽讽刺李佳惠自作多情。 　　广州的经历让黄永明白了一个道理：只有靠自己，才能有饭吃，有尊严。谁也不靠的最方便的营生就是捡垃圾。三个月下来，他捡到了第一桶金：1500元。 　　数年之后的江门市，黄永起早贪黑，凭借勤劳诚信，将小水果摊的生意做得风声水起。一名水果批发商看中他是个苗子，出资让儿子魏建新和他一起贩卖水果，结果被骗，水果运回江门，多半烂掉！本想帮助家里摆脱贫困，反倒成了家里的负担。 　　黄永为翻盘回到岑溪筹款，遇见了多年未见的李佳惠。李佳惠大学毕业后已在陆天宇的家族企业就职。李佳惠为帮黄永，向好友孔丽丽借钱，孔丽丽非但不借，反而要黄永离李佳惠远一点。得知李佳惠和黄永来往，陆天宇的帮手阿旺建议将黄永武力赶出岑溪。已成熟许多的陆天宇却邀请黄永到他的企业任职，打算将黄永降服，但被黄永拒绝。 　　黄家终于知道了黄永身负巨债的事，如五雷轰顶，母亲像当年黄永断臂时那样昏厥过去。黄永拖着疲惫的双腿好不容易走回家，却被父亲打出了家门。 　　黄永开始流浪，整整五年和家里断了音讯。黄永发明了一种专利产品——“独臂洁神”，黄永终于成了有钱人！螺壳听说黄永要归还欠债，极力劝阻，因为债主早已对归还这笔债务不抱希望。事实上，数十万欠款摆在陆家和魏家的茶几上，两家瞠目结舌，不相信这是真的。 　　黄永回到岑溪，却得知李佳惠嫁给陆天宇的消息。虽然不出他意外，但仍感到十分惆怅。黄永的父母也在婚宴上，触景生情，想起黄永小时候和李佳惠一块写作业的情景，不禁老泪纵横。黄永带着一支建筑队来到村庄，神话般地在自家茅屋旁大兴土木盖新房。父母喜极而泣，为儿子的成功，更为他还活着！ 　　李佳惠和陆天宇离婚了，离婚后的李佳惠陷入困境，黄永劝她加入到自己的团队。黄永决心不再放过爱的机会，他不顾来自各方的压力，追求李佳惠，为此不惜和前来阻止他的父亲冲突。正当黄永准备着他和李佳惠的婚事时，陆天宇减刑提前出狱了。 　　黄永不得不面对痛苦的感情抉择，从不言放弃的黄永放弃了，带领着销售团队悄然远离家乡。 　　吉普赛式的销售团队走遍大江南北，吸引了北京的大学生张蓝方（张娜拉饰）的好奇和兴趣。张蓝方为写毕业论文做社会考察，用这个理由加入了黄永的队伍。黄永的故事感动着张蓝方，她建议黄永把故事讲出来，激励更多的人。张蓝方的启迪给了黄永一个方向，他苦练演讲技巧，走进学校、监狱，走进一切需要的地方。每次演讲回来，他都要与张蓝方交流，两人身处两地，通话往往长达几个小时，美丽智慧、快乐开朗的张蓝方，悄悄走进了黄永的心里。 　　黄永飞到北京，他利用给各大学演讲的机会，邀请张蓝方做他的向导，公私兼顾，接近张蓝方。结果他们在其过程中，闹出了许多啼笑皆非的笑话，但这一切不但没有引起张蓝方的反感，反倒使她感受到了黄永的真诚与质朴。 　　时值张蓝方毕业择业之时，黄永邀请张蓝方到他的公司“实习”。张蓝方谎称在北京一家证券公司实习，实则瞒着父母去了南宁黄永的公司。这次实习让张蓝方看到，自己的价值在黄永的企业可以得到充分的实现，同时也感到了黄永的个人魅力。 　　爱情水到渠成，世俗的阻力也如期而至， 张蓝方家里尽管感激黄永的救命之恩，但坚决不能同意这桩婚事，千方百计阻挠。面对张家，黄永不急不躁，让老人慢慢了解自己。 　　一番艰难曲折之后，柳暗花明，张蓝方的父母终于坐在黄永的讲台下。当他们听完黄永讲述了自己艰辛的人生励志事迹后，流下了感动的泪水，他们终于明白，女儿的选择是正确的。 　　“世界上没有绝望的处境，只有对处境绝望的人”，黄永坚韧的追逐并且实现着自己的梦想。盛大的婚礼现场，黄永脸上洋溢着灿烂的笑容，挽着张蓝方的手臂，走进了幸福婚姻的殿堂。

本片是根据Stephen Peters的畅销小说所改编，由知名动作导演约翰·弗兰克海默执导。故事是关于一位美国上校（罗伊·施奈德 Roy Scheider）和他的俄国对头（尤尔根·普洛斯诺 Jürgen Prochnow），他们两位敌对阵营的军官擅自动用军队，在德国与捷克边境交进行一场私人战役以解决私怨。

本片是根据Stephen Peters的畅销小说所改编，由知名动作导演约翰·弗兰克海默执导。故事是关于一位美国上校（罗伊·施奈德 Roy Scheider）和他的俄国对头（尤尔根·普洛斯诺 Jürgen Prochnow），他们两位敌对阵营的军官擅自动用军队，在德国与捷克边境交进行一场私人战役以解决私怨。