One of the standouts of this year's typically whopping Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival — a 17-day event that includes nearly 200 titles and starts Thursday at the St. Anthony Main Theater — is a movie as small (and sweet) as they come.
With its laid-back vibe akin to that of a sunny day spent lazing around the pool, the Mexican indie "Club Sandwich" (which premieres at the festival at 7:30 p.m. Saturday) gently sketches the effect of a preteen's budding puberty on his clingy mom.
One could say that nothing much happens in "Club Sandwich," with the exception of young Hector's learning to apply sunscreen on his own — but, as any parent knows, such a thing is momentous. This is a minimalist film with maximum pathos, as befits the accumulation of tiny actions that a loving mom is well placed to observe and feel deeply.
Although Fernando Eimbcke was featured as an emerging artist at the prestigious New York Film Festival last fall, "Club Sandwich" is the writer-director's third movie. Conveniently, his other two — both hugely worthwhile in their own right — are available for streaming on demand.
Eimbcke's debut, 2004's "Duck Season" (available via Vudu and Redbox Instant), was presented in the United States by recent Oscar winner Alfonso Cuarón ("Gravity"), who a decade ago admitted to feeling jealous of the younger filmmaker's achievement.
"I changed envy to admiration," Cuarón told the entertainment-news website Collider. "I find ['Duck Season'] very deceptive. It could seem like something very simple, but it is a very complex film. It could look like 90 minutes where not much happens, and, thematically, I think everything happens."
"Duck Season" follows two bored teens in the Mexico City projects, Flama (Daniel Miranda) and Moko (Diego Cataño), who order a pizza, refuse to pay for it and end up stuck with the annoyed deliveryman (Enrique Arreola), who won't leave until they do.
As in "Club Sandwich," Eimbcke proves a master not only of deadpan comedy (his style has been widely compared to that of Jim Jarmusch), but of observing minor incidents until they gather great meaning — in this case, of the existential variety. In "Duck Season," a pizza somehow leads the film's young characters to contemplate the very meaning of life.