Lake Tahoe

The winner of the FIPRESCI prize (awarded by the International Federation of Film Critics) at last year’s Berlin Film Festival, Lake Tahoe is the second film from young Mexican director Fernando Eimbcke, a graduate of the prestigious Centro Universitario de Estudios Cinematográficos, and contemporary of Mexican filmmakers including Carlos Reygadas, Amat Escalante and Francisco Vargas. Similar in tone to Duck Season, Eimbcke’s auspicious and seductive 2004 debut, this wholly assured return similarly concerns itself with the uneasy passage from adolescence to adulthood.

Set in a small harbour town somewhere in the Yucatan peninsula, Lake Tahoe takes place during a single day, beginning with a resolutely non-dramatic car crash. The car in question belongs to 16-year-old Juan (Diego Cataño), who has had enough of his family problems, and in an attempt to escape is cruising around the outskirts of his municipality in his parent’s shiny new motor. During his attempts to find a mechanic capable of getting the vehicle back on the road, Juan has a number of escapades involving a lethargic dog-loving repairman (Hector Herrera), Lucia (Daniela Valentine), a punkish young waif with an infant son, and a Bruce Lee-obsessed teenager (Juan Carlos Lara II) who turns out to be an expert in all things mechanical. In one single day, the absurd and completely irreconcilable worlds of these people help Juan to understand that there are things that are as inevitable and inexplicable as death.

Developed with support from the Sundance Screenwriters Lab, this beautifully judged and deftly directed coming-of-age tale confirms Eimbcke as one of the brightest voices in Mexican cinema’s current crop of emerging young talents. Something of a paradox in that it manages to be terrifically funny while simultaneously incredibly sad, the film emerged from a pivotal incident in the director’s own life: a simple accident born of Eimbcke’s attempts to come to terms with his father’s untimely death.

Enigmatically titled (though its meaning is ultimately revealed to heartbreaking effect), Lake Tahoe gradually reveals itself to be less about seemingly random incidents and encounters – though these also count for much – and more about tragedy, loss and the near catatonic state induced by grief.

Shot in the spare, minimalist style of Ozu, and clearly indebted to Jim Jarmusch in its concentration on incidental details and its favouring of static, tableaux-style sequences (the director terms it ‘voyeuristic cinema’), Eimbcke, working in harmony with cinematographer Alexis Zabé (Silent Light), displays an astonishing precision. Of equal note are the tremendously endearing and naturalistic performances from an ensemble of largely non-actors. Cataño (who was recently seen in Jonas Cuarón’s equally startling Año Uña) particularly excels and looks set to become the latest poster boy of Mexican cinema.

Jason Wood

Anticipation:

Though relatively rarely seen, Duck Season set the bar pretty high.

Enjoyment:

Deceptively simple, this is a film that works a slow but potent magic.

In Retrospect:

A quietly audacious work, superbly composed with boundless charm and subtle surprises.