失聪少年张诚准备转到启聪学校就读。聋人的世界，却不比听人的世界宁静。当他发现校车最后一排的「游戏」，融入新生活的欣喜之情，瞬间成为恐惧⋯⋯。眼见心仪的女孩贝贝在游戏中遍体鳞伤、学长小光气势狂妄不可质疑，一群同学们又天真无害，张诚忖度着是否该揭开游戏的残忍真相，或加入游戏的行列？当加害者与受害者的界线越趋模糊，盘根错节的苦痛、无可倾诉的怨怼，种种困惑与不安在无声的校园蔓延。
　　新锐导演柯贞年的首部长片大胆将真实事件搬上银幕，在直面残酷的同时，不失温柔的眼光。犀利刻画人物之间复杂与纠结的情感，呈现声嘶力竭却仍仿若无声的残忍。贝贝一句「他们只是在玩」轻描淡写，却惊悚、沉痛，更是真实无比的哀叹。

　　A producer decides to reopen a theater, that had been closed five years previously when one of the actors was murdered during a performance, by staging a production of the same play with the remaining members of the original cast.

　　A glance leads to a smile, a smile to a rendezvous: every love story begins the same way. These narratives are stored in songs and poems and live on beyond their inevitable endings, as Shakespeare’s titular sonnet 18 also suggests. In Mohammad Shawky Hassan’s metafictional essay, a female narrator who wishes to tell the story of a love between two men encounters a polyamorous chorus of lovers, and this oft-told tale is multiplied. In Club Scheherazade, there is no protagonist, and every song has various versions. Heteronormative dramaturgy is challenged polyphonically and across a range of media: lovers ask each other about threesomes, Grindr contacts and past dates. Pop clichés are twisted, heartache permeates the men’s singing, and poems by Wadih Saadeh are read out while a lover’s dirty laundry is aired. The narrator mischievously tries for a happy ending as her characters exit the story. “If pain could be forgotten through words,” we hear at one point, “no lover would ever have to walk away wounded.”