主角蕾娅为我们讲述了凯布拉达斯加油站的故事，如电影般真实的情节，在巴西联邦区巴西利亚女子监狱“蜂巢”的墙壁上回响。影片融合了纪录片与剧情片的边界，由非职业演员扮演自己，拍摄于具备强烈电影感的真实环境，灯火忽明忽暗、干旱地貌让人联想起西部片的氛围，导演们坚信：当虚构的东西被剥离，留存下来最重要的，就是最真实的生活。

取材自真实震撼历史事件！1969年春末，大学生扬帕拉赫在捷克斯洛伐克首都布拉格引火自□以抗议苏联佔领，并在事件发生后四天不幸过世。就在当局企图抹黑他的牺牲、他的家庭陷入痛苦挣扎之际，一位年轻女性律师妲格玛布雷索瓦挺身而出，为扬的家人与政府分庭抗礼，极力捍卫扬的遗志，这个深具自由精神的英勇举动，延伸出一段关于个人价值、事实、荣誉及勇气的故事，并在那个艰钜时代影响且团结了受到压迫的捷克人民。

取材自真实震撼历史事件！1969年春末，大学生扬帕拉赫在捷克斯洛伐克首都布拉格引火自□以抗议苏联佔领，并在事件发生后四天不幸过世。就在当局企图抹黑他的牺牲、他的家庭陷入痛苦挣扎之际，一位年轻女性律师妲格玛布雷索瓦挺身而出，为扬的家人与政府分庭抗礼，极力捍卫扬的遗志，这个深具自由精神的英勇举动，延伸出一段关于个人价值、事实、荣誉及勇气的故事，并在那个艰钜时代影响且团结了受到压迫的捷克人民。

燃烧的爱

在一个美丽祥和的海岛上，有一群健康可爱的蔬菜，大家在萝卜村长的带领下，过着幸福而又快乐生活。可是神秘邪恶的基因博士在入侵了世上大部分地区后，将下一个目标瞄准了蔬菜家园，他派遣了一群变异动物去对付蔬菜们。阳光正义的小番番，善良可爱的洋葱美眉，无厘头爱恶作剧的萝卜特，脾气火爆的火辣辣，超级大吃货小胖豆……蔬菜们将使用各自神奇的技能，反抗动物们的入侵和破坏，保卫自己的家园。

在一个美丽祥和的海岛上，有一群健康可爱的蔬菜，大家在萝卜村长的带领下，过着幸福而又快乐生活。可是神秘邪恶的基因博士在入侵了世上大部分地区后，将下一个目标瞄准了蔬菜家园，他派遣了一群变异动物去对付蔬菜们。阳光正义的小番番，善良可爱的洋葱美眉，无厘头爱恶作剧的萝卜特，脾气火爆的火辣辣，超级大吃货小胖豆……蔬菜们将使用各自神奇的技能，反抗动物们的入侵和破坏，保卫自己的家园。

Deep into Hell Week, a favored pledgee is torn between honoring his code of silence or standing up against the intensifying violence of underground hazing.

The story is about an unnamed detective, hired by a beautiful, alcoholic woman, to find clues related to the disappearance of her husband. In the process, the detective is given a map (a ruined one), supposedly to help him, but which turns out in the end to be more like a metaphor of the guidelines one should have in life. The impossibility of finding relevant clues to help him solve the mystery leads the main character to an existential crisis, which builds slowly from inside and finally puts him in the position of identifying himself with the man he was supposed to find. 　　The Man Without a Map (燃えつきた地図 Moetsukita chizu) is a 1968 Japanese film directed by Hiroshi Teshigahara and starring Shintaro Katsu. The screenplay was adapted by Kōbō Abe from his novel The Ruined Map. This was the fourth and final film collaboration between Teshigahara and Abe.

The story is about an unnamed detective, hired by a beautiful, alcoholic woman, to find clues related to the disappearance of her husband. In the process, the detective is given a map (a ruined one), supposedly to help him, but which turns out in the end to be more like a metaphor of the guidelines one should have in life. The impossibility of finding relevant clues to help him solve the mystery leads the main character to an existential crisis, which builds slowly from inside and finally puts him in the position of identifying himself with the man he was supposed to find. 　　The Man Without a Map (燃えつきた地図 Moetsukita chizu) is a 1968 Japanese film directed by Hiroshi Teshigahara and starring Shintaro Katsu. The screenplay was adapted by Kōbō Abe from his novel The Ruined Map. This was the fourth and final film collaboration between Teshigahara and Abe.

For his third film in France, L'Enfant du Carnaval (1921), Mozhukhin directed himself. This is a delightful work, hinting at the astonishing visual vocabulary Mozhukhin would employ in his next directorial effort, Le brasier ardent (1923). Full of visual witticisms that include amusing match cuts and a terrific use of scenography, it can be argued that the choice of subject matter (wealthy bachelor finds a child on his doorstep and hires the child's real mother as nanny) has more than an old-fashioned air about it, but he manages to keep it fresh and sparkling until the tragic conclusion. There are some stylistic similarities between L'Enfant du Carnaval and an Italian film from 1917 which screened at last year's Festival, Luigi Serventi's Le Mogli e le arance (Wives and Oranges), written and supervised by Lucio D'Ambra, although this may be pure coincidence. 　　La Maison du mystère was followed by Mozhukhin's second and final solo directorial effort, the extraordinary Le brasier ardent (1923). Though Renoir cites this as the film which convinced him to become a director, few people understood Mozhukhin's tour de force blend of surrealism, Freud and dada, and Le brasier ardent was a commercial flop. It is directed with breathtaking boldness and a mastery of cinematic styles ranging in influence from Gance and Feuillade to the avant-garde. Le brasier ardent opens with a nightmare sequence that jumps out at the audience, beginning in hell and working itself up to a cathedral, all with Mozhukhin in different parts, from a demonic heretic at the stake to a bishop. The visionary Alexander Lochakoff designed, with Joseph-Louis Mundwiller (who later shot part of Gance's Napoléon [1927]) as cameraman. Mozhukhin's incandescent personality, shining out of those riveting eyes, acts as a match to his bravura directing, which includes astounding edits and the use of negative images. The audience is left dazzled by the audacity of his style, and mournful that a great career as director was cut short by an unappreciative public. 　　Finally, Casanova (Volkoff, 1927). I can think of no film where Venice is so gloriously shot, where the Carnival festivities of the late 18th century are so perfectly recreated, straight out of the paintings of Pietro Longhi. Full of comedy, and with Mozhukhin bounding through his scenes in the style of Douglas Fairbanks, 　　Ivan Mozhukhin in Casanova 　　Ivan Mozhukhin in Casanova 　　this is a gorgeous work, and though it lacks the technical bravura of, say, Le brasier ardent, it is a pleasure from beginning to end. The extraordinary restorations by Renée Lichtig (co-winner this year of the Jean Mitry Award) of both this and Michel Strogoff include their original hand-coloured sequences. The night scenes during Carnival, with fireworks exploding over the torch-lit gondolas, are scenes of wonder.