《管理官King》讲述的是警视厅搜查一课管理官王贺统一活跃的故事。泽村一树饰演的王贺不仅洞察力高，并且头脑敏锐，但从不听取周围人的意见，一意孤行。 唯一的兴趣是扑克牌魔术，是一个只要有空就努力练习的法外之徒。 　　故事从名高中高尔夫部OB举办的恩师送别会上开始，一名出席者从会场的海滨餐厅坠入大海，在人们强烈认为这是事故的情况下，王贺开始对事件进行怀疑调查。之后OB们继续成为攻击目标，王贺确信事件背后有应该称之为Joker的幕后黑手。 King能逼近Joker吗？

25 min

Dedicado a una de las más famosas plazas de Berlín, éste es un trabajo sobre la memoria de un lugar fuertemente connotado por su inmediato pasado, por una historia cargada de hechos trágicos, poblada de fantasmas. Como en la antigua Universidad Laboral, la ideología fascista está presente, aunque aquí sea por la ausencia de sus huellas. También por la dialéctica de bloques que operó con rotundidad en este mismo espacio. Sin embargo, aunque todo eso esté ahí, de manera espectral, en lo que la artista centra principalmente su atención es en la reconstrucción de esta plaza en los años 90 como símbolo del nuevo orden político de la Alemania actual. Ahí se han construido edificios como monumentos al capitalismo corporativo que también construye a su manera muros y fronteras de exclusión.

某天，东日本公路摩托大赛隆重召开，本乡猛（藤冈弘 饰）和泷和也（千叶治郎 饰）一马当先，将所有对手甩在身后。谁知途中他们遭到修卡的暗算误入歧途，更遭到对手的爆弹袭击。身怀绝技的本乡和泷干掉了小喽啰，随后伪装成修卡混入地狱大使（潮健儿 饰）的老巢。可是他们的行踪却在地狱大使的掌握之中，本乡化身假面骑士与敌人作战，却得知地狱大使暗中构建了秘密要塞和超级破坏镭射装置，该装置可以轻松摧毁日本列岛的任何地方。可怕的怪人劫持了百合与绘美，为了救回好友，拯救全日本，假面骑士争分夺秒展开行动…… 　　本片根据石之森章太郎的漫画原作改编。

导演将自己放逐在时间之外的小岛上，在森林的木屋里安家。他独自一人，唯有一块永远停在11点36分23秒的钟表陪伴着他。在这里，他从木屋的窗户观察记忆。

After the cremation of his father, Vincent and his family gather relatives in the back shop of the family butchery for a final tribute. Vincent announce to his family that he leaves for some time with his boyfriend Olivier.

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.

2014年，巴西阿尔及利亚导演卡里姆·埃诺兹曾带着前作《未来海岸》来到柏林，并提名最佳影片。新片《中央机场》是一部关于柏林废弃机场THF（滕珀尔霍夫机场）的纪录片，讲述关于出发与到达的议题，以及那些来这里逃离日常生活的柏林人和那些终于“到达”于此的难民。