Since the 1970s James Benning has been tirelessly breaking the habits of even the more indiscriminate fans of non-narrative film. He dispensed with a classic story in his feature debut, which was thoroughly restored last year, four decades after it was made. How does an enigmatic encounter between a man and a woman at a train station relate to a long shot taken through the windshield of a train slowly passing through the suburbs of a big American city? And do the strange golfers in the final scene have something in common? Without providing definitive answers, 11 × 14 correlates characters, props, gestures, movements, and spaces from semantically unconnected scenes in order to evoke an almost childlike joy from the surprising possibilities of a pure cinematic language.