Lake Tahoe

‘Tis the season to be counterprogramming, hence the arrival of this Mexican oddity. A sleepy indie dramedy, the action, or lack of it, unfolds in Chicxulub, near Progreso, Yucatan – a spot noted as the site of a meteor hit some 65 million years ago, the same one that took out the dinosaurs and most life on earth.
Nothing so seismic happens in Fernando Eimbcke’s debut feature, a stunningly shot, wilfully uneventful mood piece. The director is undoubtedly looking to the freewheeling minimalism of Jim Jarmusch; in the opening shots we learn that our 16 year-old protagonist, Juan, has crashed the family Nissan. Seeking assistance, he spends time with an old man, takes a dog for a walk, hangs out with a young Bruce Lee freak and meets a party-girl teenage-mom on the hunt for a babysitter.
In time, we learn that these are merely displacement activities – Juan’s father has recently died and his family home is falling apart – but even this revelation is not enough to give this wispy film any girth. Too often, Lake Tahoe feels like the stuff that happens in between movie scenes, rather than the real deal.
The largely non-professional performances are impressive, the aesthetics are a sight to see, but this much subtlety requires more substance than Lake Tahoe ultimately has to offer.