Fugit

The scouts

The premise reads like every other father-son redemption arc until it isn't—but the film doesn't quite commit to whatever subversion it's hunting for, leaving you with competent melancholy instead of the genuine vertigo Felix lives for.

Bayarri's control of silence and automotive space recalls a lineage from Haneke to recent European minimalism; the restraint in how she lets an 'unexpected incident' unfold without melodrama shows a filmmaker aware of her formal inheritance and disciplined enough to honor it.

The entire film hinges on Pol's face in the passenger seat—one moment where the actor stops performing acceptance and lets confusion crack through—and suddenly the whole 15 minutes reorganizes around what we're really watching: a son realizing his father is fallible.