Y Tu Mamá También

Last week I watched Y Tu Mamá También for the first time in decades. I was looking for something to pass the time and stave off boredom, and nothing recent piqued my interest. I somehow thought of this indie classic, and I learned that its original release was exactly 25 years ago. That sealed my decision. I didn’t have to rent it; I already started a Netflix subscription again for some forgotten reason.

This 2001 drama, co-written and directed by Alfonso Cuarón, made a lasting impression on me 20 years ago. I was browsing cable channels one night, back when I watched TV, and saw a beautiful woman lying, and crying, on a bed. I watched parts of the movie here and there; that specialty channel aired on a regular basis. I later set aside time and watched the entire thing. It impressed me then as it did now.

The movie follows a pair of teenaged guys and an older woman on a road trip. The guys are Tenoch and Julia, played Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal. They’re best friends who’ve finished high school and whose girlfriends are visiting Europe. The older woman is Luisa, played by Maribel Verdú. She’s the wife of Tenoch’s older cousin, Jano. They meet at a relative’s wedding, where Tenoch and Julio tell Luisa about a trip that they have planned.

The teenagers talk of an amazing beach, Heaven’s Mouth, but it’s a ruse. The bored and horny duo are trying to seduce the woman whose husband will be away for work. Luisa declines, but days later, she changes her mind and asks to join them. Julio and Tenoch scramble to follow through with their bluff. Nonetheless, they soon drive Luisa through Mexico under false pretense.

The trip begins as a hook-up scheme for Tenoch and Julio and as a timely excursion for Luisa. It evolves into a fateful journey as they learn things about each other and themselves. The most important character of the movie—as opposed to in the movie—is the omniscient narrator. He mentions bits of info, about the characters and the world, that vary in relevance. The most relevant ones have real impact, despite them all being straightforward.

Cuarón uses more of a documentary style. I’ve learned that his prior two movies had been Hollywood adaptations of old novels. The amateurish feel of this movie is an intentional contrast. There’s not a lot camera movement or closeups. The viewer is standing or sitting in the same space as these characters while fixated on them. There are some one-shots, but they’re nowhere near as elaborate as the ones in his 2006 movie, Children of Men.

There’s some things that stand out more to me now. Tenoch and Julio encroach Luisa’s space in a very uncomfortable way when they tell her about the trip. They don’t seem to realize it, which makes their encroaching worse. Despite this enthusiasm, they’re somewhat forgetful of her and the trip, days later. Also, their latent, yet important, prejudice toward a certain group is noticeable early.

The only downside is Tenoch, Julio, and their friend Saba being annoying in the first act. They’re more like slacker-stoner caricatures than realistic characters. Tenoch’s and Julio’s progressions might be more satisfying because of the contrast, though. The dancing scene, which I won’t spoil, is memorable. The movie’s title is an offhand remark that one of the characters says. They might or might not be serious, which is intriguing.

I can’t remember if I’ve watched Y Tu Mamá También between that first first viewing in 2006 and this recent one in 2026. Nothing compares to that first viewing, in any case, and I don’t know if I’ll ever need another one. It’s that memorable.