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- After orchestrating a brilliant escape from an Estonian psychiatric facility, Esther travels to America by impersonating the missing daughter of a wealthy family.
- Falling in love is tricky for teens Juliette and Calliope: One's a vampire, the other's a vampire hunter and both are ready to make their first kill.
- Cambodian author and human rights activist Loung Ung recounts the horrors she suffered as a child under the rule of the deadly Khmer Rouge.
- A Wall Street broker is forced to evade a police chief investigating a bank robbery as he attempts to recover the stolen money in exchange for his son's life.
- An Asian-Irish cross-dresser's bold plans to seduce a closeted GAA player take a risky turn when three lads watch them having sex from afar.
- A teen ballerina, her crazy in love boyfriend, and his sketchy best friend with a stolen gun, get stuck in the deepest labyrinths of crime's underworld over a misplaced cell phone that contains a compromising video.
- Johnny fights the banker Burton, who tries to acquire with the help of the strange bandit Martinez, in an unlawful way, all the gold mines in the nearer environment.
- Drs. Vincent, Schaeffer and Haller use telehealth to help as many people as possible by addressing the urgent calls of those who can't make it to their offices.
- Veterans of the Vietnam War tell about their experiences. The disasters but also the glorious moments of war. The central figure in the documentary is the scenario writer of Full Metal Jacket, Michael Herr. The veterans describe how it felt to kill for the first time and how those feelings still hunt them.
- An overprotective mother tries to stop her son's budding relationship with a flirtatious young divorcée.
- A young woman rebels against her family's petit bourgeois respectability, conservatism and religiosity.
- SPOKANE, WASHINGTON. A 1995 Toyota 4Runner is parked down the street from the Spokane Convention Center. The man sitting in the driver's seat is Jonathan Smith. He's still fit, even in his late fifties. He has the keen stare of a 30-year veteran police officer, but the five o'clock shadow and purplish bags under his eyes betray that something is weighing on him. He fiddles with something unseen in his hand. His eyes are fixed on the front entry to the convention. A bead of sweat forms at his hairline even though the city is barely crawling out of winter. The passenger door opens and Smith whips his arm to the outside of his left thigh to hide what is in his hand as Michael Kowalski (Ski) plops down in the seat next to him. Ski sniffs the air and pulls a face. He arches to look into the backseat and cargo space of the car. He sucks through his teeth then looks at Smith. "Somethin' stinks, J." He has the dialect of a kid that grew up in downtown, west of Division among the tweakers and prostitutes. And he'd probably have ended up selling to one or pimping the other if it weren't for the Marine Corps and Smith's mentorship on the force. Ski squints through the windshield at the convention center. The sign flashes "NDAA ANNUAL CONVENTION." He looks at his friend. "What's the plan here, J?" Smith looks at him with bloodshot eyes. "Justice, brother. Finally." Ski nods. "Okay." NIGHT. Smith is driving down along the River to the "Y" a mile west of Division. He is nursing a bottle as his goes. As he crosses into the West Central neighborhood, the houses noticeably deteriorate. Pit bulls pace yards enclosed by chain link fences. Many houses are abandoned, with boards over the windows and unpruned shrubs snarling at passerbys. It looks like a hurricane might've ripped through the neighborhood, only, none had. Smith eases the station wagon to the side of the road in front of a darkened house. He kills the motor and breaths deeply. A dog barks in the distance. A shouting match starts up a block away. A siren. Smith tips the bottle back and as he brings it down we... Smith standing on the front porch of the house, the bottle finishing the downward move. He eyes a strip of red tape across the door jamb. It reads "EVIDENCE." He clumsily opens a pocketknife. He's obviously drunk. He splits the tape and shoulders the door open. Inside, he floats from room to room. The previous occupants were living in abject squalor, but it doesn't seem to phase Smith. Smith stands in the doorway into the kitchen, staring at the oven, it's door slightly agape. He approaches like its going to explode, the bottle dangling at his side. He sinks to his knees in front of it and begins to weep, mumbling the same phrase over and over, "I'm so sorry." After composing himself, he pulls a gun out of his jacket pocket. He chambers a round and hugs the weapon. Macro shot of his finger on the trigger. POP! We cut to a shot of a bottle of champagne popping and being poured. We are at Lodgepole Restaurant & Bar. Smith is there and he's smiling. Sort of. There is a woman next to him. This is Amanda Martinez. She is roughly 15 years younger than Smith, but by the way she looks at him we know that she is in love. Ski is there too. He holds hands with a very pregnant Mrs. Ski. There are two dozen others there, some wearing uniforms. A banner is pinned to the wall: "Happy Retirement, Jon!" The night is filled with good cheer and heartwarming speeches from Smith and Ski. Then as the party winds down, midway through the Captain's speech (the last of the night), Smith goes rigid when something catches his eye by the door, "What the hell is he doing here?!" Angle on a well-dressed black man with a bald head and beard. This is Ronald S. Bopkin, Esq. He is escorting a young white woman to a nearby table. He doesn't notice Smith's daggers. Ski follows Smith's eyeline. He turns back to Smith and tries to lighten the mood. "Yo, our favorite douchebag." He smiles. Smith shakes his head and tries to rejoin the merrymaking. Ski launches into a story about pregnant Mrs. Ski and, while both women are laughing, Smith can't stop stealing glances at Bopkin. The sound of conversation deadens and his looks get longer. "J! C'mon, man!" Ski cuffs Smith on the back of the neck. "Leave him." Smith smiles thinly and takes a sip of whiskey. Smith and Ski and their significant others are in the parking lot, wrapping up the night. "So what are you gonna do now that you're retired, J? You hate golf." Just as Ski asks the question, Bopkin comes out of the restraunt with his date. He's all smiles, but when he notices Smith staring, the smile disappears for a moment before returning, painted on. Bopkin climbs into his car. Ski notices the moment. "So what's it gonna be, J? You can't have no plan..." Smith doesn't answer as he stares at Bopkin's tail lights heading down the street. Bopkin's tail lights in a different part of town, only now, we're moving and Smith is tailing him. Smith is wearing all black. Montage of him stalking Bopkin. Waiting outside office, dry cleaners, The Garden Lounge...Bopkin's house. Smith exits the car and sneaks into the house. Bopkin sits on his couch watching TV. Smith draws his gun and points it at the back of Bopkin's head. Point blank. A shot made thousands of times on the range. But he can't do it. He flees back to his car, narrowly missing being seen. He calls Amanda. "I need to see you." CORNER CLUB. Amanda and Smith sit in a darkened corner booth. Smith nearly confesses to what he was going to do, but Amanda is distracted...and distracting. She had a rough day at work. She's a child welfare advocate for the county. There is a particular lawyer making her job impossible and endangering a child in the name of the law. Smith feeds off her rage. Amanda gets a text. "Shoot. I have to go back to the office for a few things...you can come?" Smith shakes his head. "I have to take care of something too." Back at Bopkin's, Smith throws the car into park, breaks into the house, goes to the bedroom to find Bopkin sleeping, pulls his gun and shoots him. In another bar in another city sits another man. His name is Charles Adams. His hair and beard are long and unkempt. His eyes are glued to the tv screen behind the bar as Bopkin's picture appears on the nightly news. His eyes moisten and he stifles a strong emotion. He signals the bartender over and whispers something. The bartender smiles and rings a bell. "A round of drinks for everyone!" Amanda is sleeping soundly next to a wide awake Smith. He stares at the ceiling. He goes to the kitchen and opens fridge. He flips through channels on the tv. He cleans his gun. He surfs the internet. He goes to his garage and begins to tinker at his workbench. His attention snaps to the door when someone knocks (suddenly, its DAY). Smith rubs his face and goes to the door. Ski and Stan Uta (Smith's old rival since their days in the academy and Ski's new partner) are at the door. "Mornin', J," Ski says, "we've got a murder we need to talk to you about." Smith invites them to sit in the house and makes them coffee as they tell him about the Bopkin murder. Uta has clear animosity toward Smith and the feeling is mutual. They ask Smith, since he worked a bunch of cases where Bopkin was the defense attorney, if he had any enemies. "You're wondering if he had any enemies? You should be wondering if he had any friends." Smith does leave them with one name: Silverman. After Bopkin got Silverman's wife's murderer off scot-free, Silverman left the courtroom screaming about how he was going to kill Bopkin. Uta and Ski have an argument in the car on the way to Silverman's. Uta actually suspects Smith, but Ski dismisses it as jealousy (and it probably is). Uta and Ski roll up to a public park where the homeless sleep at night and loiter during the day. They approach a rough-looking man in a filthy trench coat. He flees and Uta and Ski pursue him. After apprehending him, they cuff him and sit him on the curb by the car and begin to question him. He admits that his name "used to be Silverman, but now it is 'Man of Silver...'" Turns out that Silverman is absolutely insane and there is no way he could've committed the murder. Uta and Ski decide to release him and as he's walking away he says, "I haven't eaten in 40 days and 40 nights. You guys got any food?" Establishing shot of a nice restaurant at night. Inside, another well-dressed man sits at a table with a smartly-dressed woman. This is Miles McGee and Stephanie Glover. They are partners at McGee, Glover & Darby, LP, a prestigious corporate and criminal law practice. And Smith watches them from a table in the corner. When they finish their meal, they exit passing by Smith's table as McGee tells his partner, "I have to run back to the office. I'll see you tomorrow." The parking structure at McGee's office is nearly deserted, except for a McGee's BMW X5 and a Station Wagon. McGee approaches his car. He hears a noise that spooks him. He approaches the car. The angle makes it seem like someone will jump out from behind him but nothing happens. He climbs into his car. As he starts it up, the passenger door rips open and a gun appears in a gloved hand. Smith sits down. McGee is a mess, blubbering like a baby and begging for his life. "Do you remember me?" Smith asks. "I don't." "Do you think that a mother who is tweaking and puts her infant daughter into a heated oven 'because she was cold' should be convicted as a murder." Everything comes rushing back. McGee stutters. "Y-You were the detective." Smith nods, "And you argued, and I quote, 'had Detective Smith tended to the child instead of brutally tackling and beating my client, the girl probably would have survived.'" McGee weeps. "Yes, yes, I said that in court. I had to. I'm a defense attorney. I have to vigorously defend my clients." Smith is disgusted. He cocks the gun. "She was guilty of killing her daughter. Murder. Murder. Say it, Miles. Murder." McGee stutters, "M-Murder." The sound of a gunshot carries through as we... The exterior of the car, police tape marking off the crime scene. Ski and Uta stand over the bloody body of Miles McGee. Stephanie Glover is being interviewed. Smith is in his garage. He is tinkering again. Soldering something. The locker room of a gym. A hispanic man is wrapped in a towel. He is combing his hair in the mirror. Smith appears in the reflection. Ski at the scene in the locker room. A body is covered in a sheet and techs snap photographs. Ski turns to Uta, "We can't put surveillance on every damn defense attorney in the entire city." An older female in a power pantsuit closes her garage door and as she opens the door between the house and the garage, Smith is there with his gun raised. A single bowling pin is knocked down. Ski, Smith, and their ladies are at a bowling alley. "This is bad, J." Ski sips on his beer as Amanda lines up for her next shot. "We're gonna run out of lawyers." Smith doesn't smile. "You say that like it's a bad thing." Ski laughs. "Bro, you gotta stop it with that stuff. Uta will finally be able to convince people that you're behind these murders." Meanwhile, a distinguished looked older man in a massive house sips from a glass of whiskey while he reads a book by a fire. His doorbell rings. "Honey, honey!" Ski shouts, "You gotta use the 6 pound ball!" His wife sticks her tongue out. "You were more fun when you and J were partners. Uta's grumpiness is rubbing off on you." The distinguished man, Judge Johnson, opens the door and is bowled over by a wild man with a baseball bat. Judge Johnson screams for help as the man savagely beats him. The bat comes down with a sickening.... CRACK! Another strike! Mrs. Ski does a dance to celebrate. Ski laughs, Smith is a zombie. "J, you gotta get some sleep, man." Smith nods, "Got a lot on my mind." A heaving Charles Adams stands over the bloodied body of Judge Johnson. He picks up the phone and dials 9-1-1 and drops it on Judge Johnson's chest. The ringing carries through the cut as we... Ski answers his phone. "Hey." His face drops. "Ok. On my way." He hangs up and whispers to Smith. "Another one." He crosses to his wife. "Sorry baby, got a body. Can you take her home, Amanda?" Amanda nods. Ski turns to Smith, "Wanna tagalong?" Smith stares. In Ski's car, on the way to the crime scene, the men discuss the cases. Ski turns left. Smith is confused. "Where are you going?" Ski cocks his head. "Judge Johnson's house." Smith turns to the window. "Ah. Yeah. I was confused there." Ski looks at his friend with concern. Uta is waiting outside the Johnson house for Ski. Ski approaches the door. "See, bro? I told you these murders aren't J. We were bowling." Uta shakes his head. "This isn't like the others." They go inside. "Baseball bat. Beat the bejesus out of him." Ski grimaces at the sight. "Man." He glances toward his car, where Smith sits in the passenger seat. Back a Smith's house, Amanda is sleeping alone. She rolls over to find Smith not in bed. She looks at the window toward the garage. The light is on. Inside the garage, Smith is tinkering at his workbench. He is distracted and messes something up and throws it across the room. He buries his face in his hands, closing his eyes as if to pray. "Amen." Ski opens his eyes. His wife and Uta sit at their dinner table. They talk about the cases and Smith. Mrs. Ski mentions that Smith doesn't look to be doing so hot. She encourages Ski to talk to visit Smith. "I will." At the Corner Club, Ski sits with Smith at the bar. "I think we finally have a good lead." Smith doesn't react. "Oh?" Ski nods. "Charles Adams. Remember him?" Smith nods. "Yep. Kid was killed, Bopkin got the guy off. Johnson was the judge." Ski looks at him dubiously. "Good memory." "You remember those cases. Plus, Amanda testified." They continue to talk, finally Ski comes out with it. "The wife and I think we know what's wrong with you. You've only had one job your whole adult life and you had that job for 30 years. Now you're like a ship adrift. I think you're actually stressed when you're not working. Amanda's telling us you never sleep. Man, what kinda uncle are you gonna be when my son is born? You need to find a job, J. Something part time. Hell, they'd probably hire you here. Employee discount would be worth it." Smith smiles. "That's a good idea." Smith sits across the table from a large Native American in his late-40s wearing a security guard uniform. This Riley Windsong. "This is pretty much the opposite of what you spent decades doing." Smith nods. "It'll be a nice change of pace." Smith is driving through the streets of Spokane again, wearing the same suit from the interview. He pulls up to his house and opens his garage. As the door goes up, it reveals Charles Adams, waiting for him. "You shouldn't be here. If Amanda saw you she'd figure it out. She could never forget your case. Or you." Adams is on the razors edge of sanity. "I did it." Smith scoffs. "Yeah. I know you did. That was not how we discussed. They were all supposed to look the same." Adams doesn't react. "He got what my boy got. Eye for an eye." Smith shakes his head. Adams crosses to the bench. "How's it coming?" Smith sighs, "Almost there." Adams nods. "And how'd it go today?" A long beat before Smith answers. "We're in." Smith and Windsong walk the property of the convention center. Smith inquires about the number of attendees, the schedule, where the other security guards are working. On the tour, he walks by a sign that catches his eye. He stops dead in his tracks at the picture of Amanda Martinez next to a conference room with the title "Seminar: When Criminals Parent" He reads the sign and the words become a question and carry through the cut as we... "When Criminal's Parent?" Smith is standing in his kitchen as Amanda is on her laptop at the kitchen table. She looks up. "Yes, Jon. If they have children, they are supposed to parent." Smith is fuming. "Why are you wasting your time with those people?" Amanda blinks. "The children of criminals?" "The freaking lawyers! None of them are there to learn from you, Mandy. They're there to find an angle that they can exploit for their clients in future cases." The fight continues to escalate, Smith enumerating the number of times that lawyers screwed Amanda and the children she advocated for, until Amanda storms out of the house, jumps in her car, and peels off. Smith watches her go, grinding his teeth. He goes to the garage and, a moment later, he exits with a duffle back, climbs in his car and drives off. "He's gone, guys. The Jon I knew and loved. Is. Gone." Amanda sits on the Skis' couch. She's numb. "He's so obsessed. He so angry. He's just so...tired." Mrs. Ski comforts her as Ski offers a word. "He'll be fine. He just needs to find a new purpose." Amanda looks up. "What if he doesn't?" Ski's phone vibrates. He looks at it. The caller ID reads "UTA." He looks up at his wife and she makes don't you dare answer that right now eyes at him. He declines the call and tucks his phone away. Uta is parked outside of Charles Adams' cabin in the middle of the woods. The phone is to his ear. "I found Charles Adams. Call me." Uta climbs out of the car and draws his weapon. He approaches the front door and is about to knock when he realizes it's ajar. He eases it open, gun raised. He makes his way through the house, clearing one room at a time. In the split second he lets his guard down - THUD! Charles Adams clobbers him with a piece of lead pipe. Uta drops to the ground, dead. Adams stares down at the body when a car door slams shut outside. Smith is standing outside of station wagon, staring at Uta's car. He looks up at the house, takes a deep breath and walks toward it. Adams meets him at the door. His eyes are bulging. "I took care of it." Smith set the duffle bag down. "Took care of what?" Adams steps to the side and Smith gets a glimpse of Uta's foot, jutting from the hallway. "What the hell did you do!?" Smith rushes over to Uta's body and kneels down, feeling for a pulse. "No, no, no." Adams approaches. "Why would you do this Charles?" Adams shrugs. Smith stands, clenching his fists. "I did what needed to be done." Smith swings a wild haymaker and connects with Adams' jaw as we... Smith coming through the front door of the house to find Amanda sitting at his kitchen table. She's obviously been crying and he is disheveled and spattered with blood. Amanda stands. "Where were you?" Smith shrugs. "Helping a friend." Amanda plays it cool. "Helping him do what?" Smith goes to the sink to get a drink. "He shot a coyote." Amanda nods. "OK, so we have a huge fight and you go help a friend with a dead coyote." Smith drinks long. "Yep." Amanda hangs her head. "Where did you go, Jon?" Jon approaches her. "I told you-" She cuts him off. "No, Jon, where did Jon go? Something is wrong." Jon nods. "You're right. Something's been wrong for a long time. But I'm gonna make it right...But Mandy, please, I need you to stay away from the convention." Amanda grows more fearful. "Why Jon, what's going on." Smith takes her by the shoulders. "It's all these murders. All these lawyers. I just don't want you getting hurt. I mean, they all deserve it, not you." Amanda shrugs him off, horrified. "Listen to yourself, Jon. They deserve what?" He shakes his head. "Whatever happens." He takes her hand and kisses it. She sees his swollen and busted knuckles. "You're hands..." Smith drops them, but there's no where to hide. Amanda takes a deep breath, playing it cool and smiles. "I have to pee." She goes to the bathroom and pulls out her phone. She is about to dial when Smith bursts through the door and lunges at her. "I think Amanda's in danger." Ski's wife confides. Ski scoffs. "From Jon? Please. There is nothing he loves more on this planet than that woman." Smith closes the trunk of his car with Amanda's body inside. Mrs. Ski shakes her head. "I mean emotionally." Smith drives through Spokane out toward the forest. "Honey, he's just going through this crazy transition period. He's seen some insane stuff over thirty years." Smith pulls up to Adams' house. "You're not going to lose it when you retire, right? You're gonna have me and a son, and seven girls to take care of..." Smith lifts Amanda's body out of the trunk and carries it out of frame. Ski kisses his wife on the forehead. "Seven girls, huh? We'll have to buy some land then. I'll need a lot of space to bury all the bodies of the young men comin' round." They laugh. The sun sets on Ski's house. The sun rises. Ski is sipping coffee and wearing the same clothes as the opening scene in the car with Smith. "Hey Uta, hit me back." Ski hangs up the phone and chews the inside of his cheek. He dials another number. Smith answers his phone at the convention center. He's in his security uniform and his hand is bandaged. "Hey Ski. What's up?" "Have you seen Uta?" Smith shakes his head. "No. Not really trying to spend a bunch of time with that guy." Ski tsks. "I can't get ahold of him." Smith watches as a crowd of lawyers walk towards him. "Weird. Hey so-" Ski cuts him off. "How'd it go with Amanda last night?" Smith goes unfocused. "How'd what go?" "Well, she came over here after your fight, we convinced her not to bail on your sorry ass and then sent her back your way." Smith is quiet. "She never came by...should I be worried?" Ski grunts. "Nah, she was pretty fried, maybe she didn't want to deal with it last night. Well, Uta was heading out to Charles Adams' place - he found it yesterday - probably out of reception. Anyhow, I'm gonna go track him down. Enjoy keeping all those dirtbags safe." Ski clicks off. Smith looks over to see his supervisor scowling at him. He approaches. "Mr. Smith - Jon - we have a strict no-cellphone policy while on duty." Smith arches his eyebrows. "Oh? Ok. I quit." He hands over his security badge and walks off. Ski's car pulls up to Adams' cabin. He sees multiple tire marks, but no cars. As he approaches the front door, he touches a smear of blood on the railing. His hackles go up and he pulls his gun. He whips out his phone and calls dispatch for backup. He hangs up and begins weighing his options. "Charles Adams! It the police! We're entering the premises!" He kicks the door open and finds Adams on the ground, beat to death. He is laid neatly, with his arms folded across a piece of pipe on his chest. There is sticky note attached to it that reads "Uta's Murder Weapon." Ski stands up, head on a swivel. He peeks around the corner and sees Uta's lifeless body. He nearly collapses. His phone rings. Mrs. Ski is calling. "Hello?" "Mike, I just got a text from Jon that says 'Check the shed.' What does that mean? We don't have a shed." Ski swallows hard. "I gotta go." He kicks open the shed door with his gun raised. He finds Amanda duct taped to a chair and gagged. Her eyes are wild. He crosses quickly to her and pulls the gag out. "Thank God. Ski, Jon is going to do something terrible." Ski looks over her shoulder and slowly straightens up as he takes in the scene behind her. The entire shed is full of bomb-making materials. "Oh no, J." "Don't do this." We're back in the car with Smith and Ski. We float over the back seats to reveal that the entire car is packed with ammonium nitrate. Smith is stoic. "I have to. They have to go." Ski begins to plead. "And Uta? Did he have to die?" Smith shakes his head as Ski goes on, "And me? Do I have to die? Cause there's no way in hell I'm getting out of this car unless you do." Smith keeps shaking, "Get out Ski. They deserve it. They all deserve it. They've all sinned. They're all unclean." "What about me, J? Am I unclean? Do I deserve it? Can you do this, knowing it'll take me too?" Smith is silent. "I got a wife. I got a boy. Your godson. Uncle J. You gonna leave him with that memory? Uncle J killed my daddy? C'mon man. Please." Smith sets his jaw. "You need to get out of this car. If you don't, you're blood won't be on my hands." Smith screams and shifts the car into drive. "Whoa, whoa, whoah, J! C'mon man. What are you doing?" "I'm gonna run this damn car through that damn entry way and blow them all to hell." "Please, J. You're a good cop. You saved people. Lots of people. Don't do this." Smith is shaking his head. "I'm NOT! I let that baby die. It was my fault. I was too busy being a cop. I could've saved her." Smith breaks down sobbing. Ski reaches for his shoulder, tears in his eyes. "That's a lie. She was gone, J. There was no way." Smith sobs harder. "And these damn lawyers, twisting everything, wronging the right, abusing justice. Well that stops now. I will bring the full weight of justice to bear on them." Ski is scrambling. "Is that what Bopkin was about? McGee?" Smith nods. "I did it for her. For all the kids she helps. And for all the kids these bastards hurt in the name of the law." The car lurches. Ski's hand is on the dash. "Stop, J! This isn't justice! This is not how it works. You don't get to sit in that seat, brother." Smith is on fire. "But they do? With their filthy robes and smug faces." "And so you want to take them out, I get it. But, J, you'd be just like them. You're enforcing justice as you see it, you're declaring them all guilty without ever hearing a case. How is that better than them?"
- In 2012, jihadists took control of Northern Mali, imposing one of the harshest interpretations of sharia law in recent years and, crucially for Mali, banning music. Radio stations were destroyed, instruments were burned and overnight, Mali's musicians were forced into hiding or exile where many remain even now. Follow these musicians as they fight to keep music alive. Featuring rare footage of the jihadists, a glimpse at life in refugee camps and the perilous journeys home to war-ravaged cities, THEY WILL HAVE TO KILL US FIRST is a tale of courage in the face of conflict as Malian musicians refuse to give up the fight for their right to sing.
- From the initial murders that sparked a desperate manhunt for a smart killer on the loose in New York City, to an elusive serial killer in Missouri that evaded law enforcement for 30 years, follow along as the detectives who were haunted by these unforgotten cold cases finally connect the dots.
- After best friends Melissa and Rebecca hide the body from their first kill, they find themselves stuck on a deserted country road at night. A dark comedy of errors ensues as Melissa's parents and the local tow truck driver Barbara are called to the rescue. When the body is discovered the next day, Sheriff Brown arrests his main suspect. But don't kid yourself, everything isn't as it appears.
- An autistic savant who works for the police is suspected of committing crimes. However, he believes the culprit is an old friend with the same mental disorder.
- When the pressures of losing a high paying tech job at a Boston area firm start to take a toll on a middle age man's home and relationships, he retreats to a cabin in the woods and begins to seek redemption in realizing his late father's dream.
- A world-wide cult consisting of their members performing a single, random act of murder for a single granted wish.
- Strangers must commit their first kill on camera in this fun social experiment.
- Maya is perfectly happy with her relationship with long time boyfriend Isaac. However, his continual distance from her creates a sense of envy that grows inside of her, pushing her over the edge.
- This new Constellation Studios production is a loving tribute to Quentin Tarantino, one of the most talented filmmaker of his generation, and it refers directly to a specific event in "Kill Bill, volume 1".
- Things become tough when James (Evan Molina) is in desperate need of money. His friend Kyle (Shane Edwards) gives him an opportunity to work for an illegal toilet paper operation, unknown of the dangers that the job held for James
- An Elite Task Force Team take on some of the Worlds Most Dangerous Terrorists A wave of kidnappings has swept through Mexico, feeding a growing sense of panic among its wealthier citizens, especially parents. In one six-day period, there were twenty-four abductions, leading many to hire bodyguards for their children. Into this world enters John Mccarthy, a burned-out top ex-fbi agent who was betrayed by his agency who worked as an operative/assassin who has given up on life after his wife was Murder is forced back into action to lead the team.
- Her First Kill is a psychological thriller about a religious young mother who abducts her best friend to find out the truth about her missing sister. How far will she go to get justice for her family?
- In 2004, six friends set out to make their first movie, a dark comedy called "Killing Christian." By the end, after many missteps and lessons learned, it was hard to say where they would end up. But at the very least, they didn't kill each other.
- Set right before "The Clown Face Killer," see the first kill of the Clown Face Killer.
- A dark comedy about a surgeon who kills his first patient.
- A detailed and compelling look into the crimes of serial killer Kenneth Erskine aka. The Stockwell Strangler
- To deal with her mother's abuse, an intrepid teenager escapes into a world where she could kill her mother.
- Let's imagine that we can merge the worlds of slapsticks and cartoons into one... In "Dr Kill & Mr Chance, the first RealityToon" we have actors playing toon-like characters who evolve in a deformed caricature world typical of "Looney Tunes" or "Tex Avery" cartoons. Facing the most horrible situations, they are as impervious to misfortune as a "Coyote," a "Spike" or a "Duffy." For the very first time "Reality Toon" gives audiences the illusion of a hyperrealist cartoon. Doctor Kill, an ultra professional gun for hire, using every available means he tries to kill Mister Chance, the luckiest man in the world. Each trap that he sets always turns against him...
- Rayburn has family obligations: a young wife, a son...and the violent crime family that employs him. Devoted to both families, Rayburn is reluctant when he is sent on his first contract kill with his brutal mentor, James. Isolated in an unforgiving wilderness, the men find their identities jeopardized after the messy hit is photographed by a motion detection hunter's camera. Vulnerable, Rayburn anxiously waits near the camera with a simple objective: kill the owner and collect the incriminating evidence. But things take a surprising turn when Rayburn learns the owner of the camera is a completely different kind of killer.
- New York City in the 1970's is gripped with fear when one young woman is murdered ruthlessly with no apparent motive or rationale. With terrified citizens and a smart killer on the loose, the NYPD began their most desperate manhunt to date.
- An Elite Group of Federal agents Pushed to the Edge taking on the most Notorious Criminals in the World.
- Derek for DesertWolfArmory has a timber rattlesnake who gets to eat a live rat for the first time. Meanwhile, he live feeds some of his other venomous snakes with live rodents.
- After the death of Mavrik Ozcorp, Kyle goes on to be a news reporter for Gile City Network. However, Kyle wants to know what the operation goal is and stop it before it's too late.
- With any means necessary try to survive. Weapons are scattered across a forest and only 2 remaining survivors of the "24 Hour Killing Spree" remain. This is the final Hunt.
- Jason meets the family of the first man he ever killed and finds just how deeply the living was wounded.
- 1997–200343mTV-PG7.2 (4.2K)TV EpisodeWith Buffy preoccupied by her date with Owen, Giles is trapped by a group of vampires seeking to raise a powerful leader.