喜欢进行类似废墟探险的女大学生纸越空鱼，在某一天的探险中意外遇见一位寻找异世界的女孩仁科岛子，两人一拍即合成为好友，之后两人为了研究、赚钱、寻找重要之人等各种目的，踏入非日常领域的故事。

《瓶装歌曲》是一个正在进行的媒体项目，为理解在线恐怖主义宣传出谋划策。再给彼此的书信中，纪录片制作人和媒体研究人员克洛伊·加利贝特-莱妮和李起万娓娓道来，自己是如何接触到恐怖组织ISIS拍摄的视频。电脑屏幕上显示着他们的调查，他们采用了桌面纪录片的方法追踪和记录调查的经过和结果。

A coast guard captain on a small Greek island is suddenly charged with saving thousands of refugees from drowning at sea.

小康是无用之人，在车水马龙中高举广告招牌维生，即便狂风暴雨亦屹立不摇。他举牌、点烟、尿尿，再举牌、点烟、尿尿，任车阵喧嚣从身旁呼啸而过。小康的生命中只有两个孩子，他们一起吃饭、一起刷牙、一起更衣，一起蜷曲着入睡。他们缺乏水电，总是在同一张破旧床垫上，伴着一颗高丽菜相拥而眠。整座城市彷佛都成了野狗咆哮游荡的废墟，河流也更遥远了。一个暴雨交加的夜晚，小康决定带上两个孩子，一同出航。

小康是无用之人，在车水马龙中高举广告招牌维生，即便狂风暴雨亦屹立不摇。他举牌、点烟、尿尿，再举牌、点烟、尿尿，任车阵喧嚣从身旁呼啸而过。小康的生命中只有两个孩子，他们一起吃饭、一起刷牙、一起更衣，一起蜷曲着入睡。他们缺乏水电，总是在同一张破旧床垫上，伴着一颗高丽菜相拥而眠。整座城市彷佛都成了野狗咆哮游荡的废墟，河流也更遥远了。一个暴雨交加的夜晚，小康决定带上两个孩子，一同出航。

电影作品讲述了时隔60年再次前往故乡南海进行友情旅行的两位老奶奶和长期守护故乡生活的爷爷之间的故事。

儿子何宇航每次都将错了一道题的试卷贴在探监室厚厚的玻璃上，只为和父亲多说两句话，打破沉默。父亲教儿子解题，二人跟随父亲解题过程，进入了父亲的想象世界。他们穿梭隧道，却发现试卷外的难题永远无法解开。

《郊游》(THE OUTING)是一个系列，通过三个家庭的叙事，讲述了人们在聚会上相遇的故事，这三个家庭管理着一家顶级广告公司，该公司即将进入股市筹集大笔资金。Anan、Phupha和Taurus带着他们的家人和公司的亲密员工去度假。在那里，二十二个对爱情有不同看法的人的黑暗秘密和关系被揭示。有稳定、嫉妒和误解的问题。最后每个人都为了自己的目标选择背叛自己的爱人。一年一度的郊游将不再一样。 　　"THE OUTING" is a series that tells a story of people who meet at parties through the narrative of three families that manage a top advertising agency that is about to enter the stock market to raise a large fund. Anan, Phupha and Taurus take their families and close employees in the company for an annual outing at a resort. 　　There, the dark secrets of twenty-two people with different views on love and relationships are revealed. There are issues of stability, jealousy and misunderstanding. In the end, everyone chooses to betray their lovers for their own goals. The annual outing will never be the same.

World cinema has never been short of films about alienated teenagers, but it’s extremely rare to find one so consistently well-observed as School Trip, an enormously promising debut from director Winckler, who co-wrote the script with Stefan Kriekhaus. Their sympathetic understanding of the rhythms and details of adolescent life recalls Lukas Moodysson’s Fucking Amal – School Trip is very strong on the children’s sudden jealousies and friendships, the harsh insider/outsider dynamics of teenage cliques, their self-contained worlds designed to shut out blundering adults – the teacher “in charge” is a spectacularly ineffectual, peripheral, pretty much irrelevant figure. 　　But while Moodysson tricked up his movie with a distracting reliance on clumsy zooms and a wobbly hand-held camera, Winckler plays it mercifully straight. As the bald, informative title suggests, this isn’t a project that calls out for visual flash, sand Winckler’s strengths lie elsewhere – principally in his handling of his young cast. He shows a rare knack with actors, from the tiniest bit part to the three main leads, and he conjures a sensational performance out of Sperling. 　　His Ronny is a sustained feat of characterisation, mostly internalised, but also packed full of amusing, revealing bits of business – the ‘solo ping pong’ scene is worth the price of admission on its own. This is a young man who moves between being the class clown, an idiot-savant, an artistic-genius-in-embryo, and a would-be sociopath – sometimes all in the same scene. His young face obscured by a bum-fluff moustache and encroaching sideburns, it’s hard to tell his exact age, but he’s more mature than the rest of the gang - his biggest problem isn’t that he doesn’t think enough, it’s that he thinks far too much, although he actually says very little, and when he does speak it’s largely to voice his contempt for these ‘jerks.’ He’s so sardonic, in fact, that we can probably take the slogan emblazoned across the back of his cheap nylon jacket, ‘Free Spirits Party Place’ as an intentional bit of irony on his part. 　　It’s no accident that one of the museum trips see the bored-to-tears class being told about the habits of ‘an early stone age tribe.’ They endure the tedious lecture – only Ronny has the nerve to actually do something about it. He’s also the only one who has enough ambition and daring to break free of the resort’s dismal confines and explore the wider world, if only for a few hours, just as he’s careful to liberate a wasp that’s flown into one of the hotel rooms and keeps buzzing against the window, anxious for freedom. 　　What Ronny finds out there is sufficiently weird and funny (in an excellent hitch-hiking scene) to make breaking free seem like the only sensible option, even if the other kids see his tendency to ‘run away’ as a weakness. By the end, however, things aren’t so clear-cut – events take a tragic (though admirably unsentimental) turn, forcing Ronny into a searching self-examination and ending the film on a sober, satisfyingly ambiguous note, even as the credits roll to the upbeat racket of raucous Polish rock. Winckler could do worse than to return to this character, and this actor, in future years – Ronny could turn out to be the 21st century’s Antoine Doinel, and then some.

World cinema has never been short of films about alienated teenagers, but it’s extremely rare to find one so consistently well-observed as School Trip, an enormously promising debut from director Winckler, who co-wrote the script with Stefan Kriekhaus. Their sympathetic understanding of the rhythms and details of adolescent life recalls Lukas Moodysson’s Fucking Amal – School Trip is very strong on the children’s sudden jealousies and friendships, the harsh insider/outsider dynamics of teenage cliques, their self-contained worlds designed to shut out blundering adults – the teacher “in charge” is a spectacularly ineffectual, peripheral, pretty much irrelevant figure. 　　But while Moodysson tricked up his movie with a distracting reliance on clumsy zooms and a wobbly hand-held camera, Winckler plays it mercifully straight. As the bald, informative title suggests, this isn’t a project that calls out for visual flash, sand Winckler’s strengths lie elsewhere – principally in his handling of his young cast. He shows a rare knack with actors, from the tiniest bit part to the three main leads, and he conjures a sensational performance out of Sperling. 　　His Ronny is a sustained feat of characterisation, mostly internalised, but also packed full of amusing, revealing bits of business – the ‘solo ping pong’ scene is worth the price of admission on its own. This is a young man who moves between being the class clown, an idiot-savant, an artistic-genius-in-embryo, and a would-be sociopath – sometimes all in the same scene. His young face obscured by a bum-fluff moustache and encroaching sideburns, it’s hard to tell his exact age, but he’s more mature than the rest of the gang - his biggest problem isn’t that he doesn’t think enough, it’s that he thinks far too much, although he actually says very little, and when he does speak it’s largely to voice his contempt for these ‘jerks.’ He’s so sardonic, in fact, that we can probably take the slogan emblazoned across the back of his cheap nylon jacket, ‘Free Spirits Party Place’ as an intentional bit of irony on his part. 　　It’s no accident that one of the museum trips see the bored-to-tears class being told about the habits of ‘an early stone age tribe.’ They endure the tedious lecture – only Ronny has the nerve to actually do something about it. He’s also the only one who has enough ambition and daring to break free of the resort’s dismal confines and explore the wider world, if only for a few hours, just as he’s careful to liberate a wasp that’s flown into one of the hotel rooms and keeps buzzing against the window, anxious for freedom. 　　What Ronny finds out there is sufficiently weird and funny (in an excellent hitch-hiking scene) to make breaking free seem like the only sensible option, even if the other kids see his tendency to ‘run away’ as a weakness. By the end, however, things aren’t so clear-cut – events take a tragic (though admirably unsentimental) turn, forcing Ronny into a searching self-examination and ending the film on a sober, satisfyingly ambiguous note, even as the credits roll to the upbeat racket of raucous Polish rock. Winckler could do worse than to return to this character, and this actor, in future years – Ronny could turn out to be the 21st century’s Antoine Doinel, and then some.