Like many "road" pictures much of Sin Nombre is predictable, but Sundance award winning writer/director Cary Joji Fukunaga packs such mesmerizing suspense into the journey that this is of no consequence. Fukunaga assumes that the audience is familiar with the usual perils facing illegal immigrants making their way northward from Central America to the United States—instead focusing on self-destructive Mexican gang life and warfare. For a refresher two films can serve as excellent pre-requisites: Gregory Nava's highly acclaimed El Norte (1983) and Arturo Perez Torres's 2005 documentary Wetback about the life and death journeys of Central American undocumented workers struggling to cross the Rio Grande into Texas.

If focused strictly on Fukunaga's narrative structure, the film would soon lose potency, but he wisely draws understated characters who are all trapped by intriguing circumstances: El Casper (Edgar Flores) who romantically wants to escape life with his homies, young El Smiley (Kristyan Ferrer) who conversely wants to join the Mara Salvatrucha gang, and Sayra (Paulina Gaitan) who wants to flee Honduran poverty for the good life in New Jersey. We're familiar with these outlines, so the pleasure comes with the details that Kukunaga's patiently draws throughout—looks and reaction shots frequently telling far more than action scenes of ritual gang initiations, interrogations, and street warfare.

Violating gang codes and adopting more widely accepted humanistic values initially marks El Casper with distrust from his vicious street gang, but that escalates to a death sentence when he kills tattooed leader Lil' Mago (Tenoch Huerta Mejía) before he brutally rapes Sayra. El Casper knows that he's doomed—that it's only a matter of time and place that he'll be executed—but he's compelled to flee. His impulsive act of kindness connects with Sayra, who in turn offers him food and companionship. Fortunately, Fukunaga doesn't sentence the film to predictable love and romance at this point. Its remaining twists and turns feel real enough to avoid incongruity.

Sin Nombre plays out like City of God meets El Norte, steadily building intensity despite overwhelming feelings of doom that contrast with often idyllic images of the Mexican countryside. At one point the train passes a mountain sporting a large Jesus statue, and the various illegals cross and pray for a successful passage. We too hope for the best for the central figures even though logic dictates that their odds are long, and even a successful journey will only lead to further challenges inside brutally competitive, capitalistic American society—a realization effectively captured with the film's final image.