There's imported-film minimalism, and then there's this: Fernando Eimbcke's feature debut, a daringly banal comedy of ennui set almost entirely in a middle-class Mexico City flat. Knocking them dead at festivals and at the Mexican Ariel Awards -- where it enjoyed a Ben-Hur-like sweep -- Duck Season could become the couch-potato nation's anthem film, if only Gen-Xbox could sit through it. Two Mexican tweens settle in for a spacious unchaperoned afternoon of Halo and Coke. A 16-year-old neighbor girl begs to use the apartment's oven. It's Stranger Than Paradise for gamers -- until the power goes out. We hunt for mild hints of comedy and wackiness amid the torpor, but Duck Season, shot in silvery black and white, remains insubstantial, if not charmless. Still, thanks to its dead air and love of minutiae, you grow fond it, like a relative's kitschy home you never wanted to visit but remember warmly now.