Left to their own devices while Mom is away, best friends Flama (Daniel Miranda) and Moko (Diego Cataño) while away an afternoon fortified with the preteen luxuries of Coke, potato chips, and a Halo match. They pay no mind when the girl next door (Danny Perea) invites herself in to bake a cake, but soon get bored enough of video games to order a pizza. The delivery guy (Enrique Arreola) is one minute late. The boys refuse to pay. The pizza guy refuses to leave. The audience shifts in their seats and wonders when an actual movie is going to start. This faux-minimalist drudge, made on the cheap in black and white and barely leaving its single location—middle-class Mexican apartment, including bathroom, kitchen, and balcony—plays like the leaden obverse of the stateroom scene in A Night at the Opera. The naturally talented cast does its best to create interest, but nothing can stave off the rigor mortis. Director Fernando Eimbcke has never met a fade to black he didn’t like, and each time the scene goes dark you silently plead it’s the start of the credits. The movie has one—exactly one—good scene, but it occurs after the audience’s patience has already been exhausted. Most people go to movies to prevent hanging around the house with nothing to do. Watching Duck Season to avoid boredom is like dreaming that you can’t fall asleep. How do you say “I’ve had more fun while comatose” in Spanish?