Pan和Soda是两个小腐女，喜欢想象男男情侣在一起的样子。她们嗑的一对CP是学校里的两个学长。一个是酷酷的富二代运动型校霸Way，一个是智力值超高的学霸Kim。虽然其实Pan和Soda都知道嗑cp只是自己的yy，因为Way已经有了女朋友PhingPhing，这让两个妹子很是恼火。 　　有一天，在她们写的同人文差点害得Way被开除后，Pan去找Kim道歉，Kim提议载Pan回家，但两人都因为死神的一次马虎大意而被收割了灵魂。发现生死簿上没有他们的名字后，死神姐姐将他们的灵魂送回自己的身体，但又送错了。当醒来时，Pan发现自己在Kim的身体里。同时，Kim在Pan的体内的灵魂仍未苏醒。死神答应会想办法解决，但现在Pan必须留在Kim身体里。 　　但困在Kim的身体里Pan一点也不轻松，伪装得很是费力，就连靠近Way都会产生尴尬的时刻。此外，Pan很快得知，她在学校的朋友、她的同桌Khet是Kim的亲弟弟。这让她陷入了更加尴尬的境地。然而，她决定以此为契机，让自己的cp站上cp之巅、让自己的船（即cp）乘！风！破！浪！Pan会成功吗？还是这一切对她来说太过艰难？敬请期待！

Pan和Soda是两个小腐女，喜欢想象男男情侣在一起的样子。她们嗑的一对CP是学校里的两个学长。一个是酷酷的富二代运动型校霸Way，一个是智力值超高的学霸Kim。虽然其实Pan和Soda都知道嗑cp只是自己的yy，因为Way已经有了女朋友PhingPhing，这让两个妹子很是恼火。 　　有一天，在她们写的同人文差点害得Way被开除后，Pan去找Kim道歉，Kim提议载Pan回家，但两人都因为死神的一次马虎大意而被收割了灵魂。发现生死簿上没有他们的名字后，死神姐姐将他们的灵魂送回自己的身体，但又送错了。当醒来时，Pan发现自己在Kim的身体里。同时，Kim在Pan的体内的灵魂仍未苏醒。死神答应会想办法解决，但现在Pan必须留在Kim身体里。 　　但困在Kim的身体里Pan一点也不轻松，伪装得很是费力，就连靠近Way都会产生尴尬的时刻。此外，Pan很快得知，她在学校的朋友、她的同桌Khet是Kim的亲弟弟。这让她陷入了更加尴尬的境地。然而，她决定以此为契机，让自己的cp站上cp之巅、让自己的船（即cp）乘！风！破！浪！Pan会成功吗？还是这一切对她来说太过艰难？敬请期待！

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.

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.