Lake Tahoe
Directed by Fernando Eimbcke
At Anthology Film Archives July 10-16
Runtime: 81 min.

If a dramatic action occurs in Lake Tahoe, a new film from Mexican director Fernando Eimbcke, you probably won't see it. Take the opening car crash. The car of protagonist Juan, an older adolescent from a fractured family, is never shown slamming into a pole—only heard. Instead, Eimbcke shows Juan scouring for someone to fix the vehicle. The film focuses on the languorous search for an auto shop and is primarily about the results of actions rather than the actions that initially caused the aftereffects.

A master of doing more with less (as with Duck Season), Eimbcke’s current film of consequences is once again filled with wonderful visuals. The faded tropical pastels of his Mexican landscapes befit the emotional weariness of his characters. Shots of near stillness—Juan’s mother smoking in the bathtub is the most masterful—bring something refreshing to scenes that seem nearly drained of color or emotion.

While innovative visually, the characters and plot are hackneyed existentialism. The old man and his dog? Seen long ago in Camus’ L’Etranger with the character of Salamano. Juan sits with a girl, waiting in a desolate area for “the one who knows” how to fix his car. He might as well be waiting for Godot.

The mixed bag of Lake Tahoe is exemplified in its handling of religion. Eimbcke introduces his Christian overtone quite sloppily, through a caricatured religious mother reading from Corinthians. But his reference to Buddhism is much more sly and artistically interesting. In a wide frame shot, Eimbcke films half a building, cutting off the part of the word written across its side. The letters that are left spell Zen. Eimbcke is clearly interested in the details of human behavior and the simple choices available amidst life's complexity. But we're still waiting for his big break-out moment from the art-school contrivances.