Lake Tahoe

Juan crashes the family car into a post early one morning. He walks around the town looking for someone to fix it. An old mechanic, a man who will not be parted from his dog, an apprentice buried in kung fu books, a young woman with a baby: these are who he meets. None of them gets the job done quickly. And Juan is in no hurry to get home, because his father died a short time ago. Fernando Eimbcke's film tells not the event but the emptiness around it. The camera stays still, there are long stretches of black between the scenes, and nobody explains what they feel. Nobody talks about mourning, and yet the film is about nothing else from beginning to end. The title comes from a sticker on the back of the car. It screened in Berlin in 2008 and became one of the best known examples of that quiet, slow strand in Mexican cinema. Eighty-nine minutes.