Lake Tahoe

Although little happens in the first two-thirds or so of this extraordinary film from Mexican director Fernando Eimbcke—who favors a slow-paced, minimalist style comparable to that of Jim Jarmusch—patient viewers will be nicely rewarded. As Lake Tahoe opens, taciturn teenager Juan (Diego Cataño) has crashed the family car into a pole somewhere in his bleak hometown on the Yucatan Peninsula—odd, since it's broad daylight and the road is straight and empty. Seeking help at repair shops and auto parts stores, the uninjured Juan meets a grumpy, dog-loving old mechanic named Don (Hector Herrera), who is too tired to do much of anything; a young mother, Lucia (Daniela Valentine), who loves punk rock; and a kid named David (Juan Carlos Lara II), who might be able to fix the car if he can be distracted from his Bruce Lee and Shaolin monks videos. Lake Tahoe's pace is deliberately glacial, with almost no music, precious little camera movement (Eimbcke favors long, static shots), and no fancy editing. It's all thoroughly bewildering until a profound revelation, delivered dramatically but without a heavy hand, suddenly makes sense of everything—the accident, Juan's demeanor, a depressing scene at home (where his mother sits in the bathtub, smoking and crying)—at which point Lake Tahoe finds its emotional center and we are inextricably drawn in. Highly recommended. (S. Graham)