A day in the life of an eight-year-old soccer fan who has to come to terms with living in a strange new town and the loss of his father.

As dusk approaches and workers stream out of the city, thousands of individuals are about to begin their day's work. They shuffle through subterranean car parks, sprawling shopping centers and soaring office towers, leaving behind a trail of gleaming floors and emptied waste paper baskets. They are the cleaners - an invisible and underpaid army whose necessary work goes unnoticed. In LESSONS FROM THE NIGHT we spend a night with Maia, who reflects on life, work and toilet bowls as we follow her nightly cleaning round through silent, empty spaces. As she works, she reveals some of the secrets of the city - the traces of human presence that we leave behind each day - and of her former life in Bulgaria. LESSONS FROM THE NIGHT is both homage to the menial worker, and an existential film about cleaning.

Stan Brakhage's artistic view of the cosmos.

A misguided orphan struggles to find a place for himself.

From a murky landscape, a wooded mountain emerges. We watch the sun. We see a bearded man climbing up the mountain through the snow. He carries an ax, and he's accompanied by a dog. His labors continue. There is no soundtrack. Images rush past - water, trees, and surfaces too close up to distinguish. He struggles. A fire burns. Nature, in long shots and magnified, is formidable and silent. It's tough going; he carries on. In a capillary, blood flows.

Sexual intimacy. Three kinds of images race past, superimposed on each other sometimes: two bodies, a man and a woman's, close up, nude - patches of skin, wisps of hair, glimpses of a face and genitalia; strips of celluloid with lines and squiggles scratched on them; and, close-up shots of what appear to be the insides of living bodies - a heart beating, muscle and sinew and tissue wet with fluids. The exterior and interior of desire.

A creation myth realized in light, patterns, images superimposed, rapid cutting, and silence. A black screen, then streaks of light, then an explosion of color and squiggles and happenstance. Next, images of small circles emerge then of the Sun. Images of our Earth appear, woods, a part of a body, a nude woman perhaps giving birth. Imagery evokes movement across time.

Late at night, a drunken couple walk into a fenced grassy area with a tennis court. They start sex games on the umpire's chair, interrupted by the court lights going on and loud sounds coming over the public address system. They realize the gate they entered is now locked. They yell for help over the din of the speakers. She runs for the opposite gate; it's locked as well. He gives her a boost so she can climb the fence. Is something coming?

A girl tells the story of her life and hopes for the future.