Its purposefully generic title is not misleading. “Drama/Mex” is a second-generation Mexican new-wave film, arriving in the mighty wake stirred by directors Alfonso Cuaron (“Y Tu Mama, Tambien”) and Alejandro González Iñárritu (“Amores Perros”). The film is even co-executive produced by the now international heartthrob stars of “Mama,” Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal.

That’s not a bad thing, really, since Messrs. Cuaron and Iñárritu have been spending their time making movies that are more global in spirit, and because anything evocative of their work is likely to be artful in its striving. And, true enough, writer-director Gerardo Naranjo displays both a remarkably assured hand in structuring his interwoven stories, and a crisp eye that crystallizes a spontaneous, heightened form of naturalism in scenes that often amble in unpredictable ways. The film is derivative — though Mr. Naranjo most readily cites the influence of the ambient happenstance of Jim Jarmusch or Aki Kaurismaki — but it springs forward on its toes.

That’s how we meet Fernanda (Diana Garcia), a spoiled, but darkly beautiful young woman who is walking briskly home along the Acapulco coastline. In pursuit is her ex-boyfriend, the rakishly handsome and narcissistically self-aware Chano (Emilio Valdes). During Chano’s long absence, Fernanda has dumped him for another guy, but he chases her nonetheless — even as she denounces him as a loser and chastises him for stealing money from her father.

Once Fernanda arrives at her empty, upscale house, she believes Chano is locked safely outside. Soon, she sees him climbing down from the roof, and she can no longer keep him at arm’s length. Now erupts a scene of violent passion — which is rather a cliché in Spanish-language entertainment — and a lyrical-comic aftermath, in which lithe post-adolescent bodies loll about as if in an American Apparel ad. Mr. Naranjo’s camera frames everything with deliberate, idiosyncratic movements, allowing the actors to make the most of their characters’ indeterminate moment.

In a parallel story, a suicidal office worker, Jaime (Fernando Becerril), goes bonkers and flees his cubicle, taking the company payroll deposit with him. He arrives at the beach with a gun and takes a small room where he intends to blow his brains out, yet he seems unable to sweat up the nerve. Meanwhile, a girl named Tigrillo, who has run away from home (Miriana Moro, who looks to be about 14 years old, yet is one of the film’s producers), takes up with a local gang of child scam artists who pretend to be prostitutes, but mostly scheme to grift small change off of aging American tourists.

The crafty Tigrillo sneaks in to Jaime’s room as he’s preoccupied with his suicide attempt, snatches his wallet (stuffed with stolen large bills), and makes a run for it. He catches up with her, unaware of the theft, and is amused by her awkward precocity and bratty rudeness. When she encounters Jaime later, she makes a play for him, and the two strike up an odd friendship that will take a tormented twist — as, of course, do the lives of the young lovers, whose visit to the same resort beachfront provokes violence when Fernanda’s boyfriend, a foul-mouthed soccer player named Gonzalo (Juan Pablo Castaneda), discovers her indiscretion.

The jigsaw pieces of the story fall together a little too neatly, but the ever-present sense of anxiety is enough to keep the viewer guessing throughout. The real strength of “Drama/Mex” is in the performances of young cast members, many of whom have distinguished themselves in off-camera roles in Mexican independent film.

Ms. Moro is positively frightening as a very green wannabe hooker whose immediate overachievement leaves her underage cohorts in awe. And the emotional tug-of-war between Ms. Garcia and Mr. Valdes (with assistance from Mr. Castaneda as Gonzalo) owes a lot to the spirit of early Godard and Truffaut. Visually, Mr. Naranjo loves a good tracking shot, and he lets Ms. Gacria’s long hair twirl in the breeze against a backdrop of red cliffs and blue water. That sheer and simple love of the cinematic moment, coupled with a documentary-like matter-of-factness, makes “Drama/Mex” more than the sum of its film-school footnotes. The film is genuinely alive to the mysteries of human nature.

Starts today (323 Sixth Ave. at W. 3rd Street, 212-924-7771).