There is a scene in "A Better Life" where gardener Carlos Gallindo (Demian Bichir) and his son Luis (Jose Julian), in pursuit of a man who stole their truck, round a street corner and come upon a group of day-laborers waiting for someone to drive by and give them work.

Luis scoffs, "Look at all those pendejos ho-ing themselves." His father gives him an angry glance, and retorts, "That was me." Both understand that he could be back on that line the next day, if they can't find the truck.

On its face, "A Better Life" is an examination of illegal immigration in America, and specifically Los Angeles. It is also a close-up view of the city's ethnic and economic geography, of the abrupt transitions between affluence and poverty, and the nature of a city that manufactures dreams which seem just within reach but turn out to be anything but.

The true heart of the movie lies in the evolving relationship and understanding between Gallindo and his son. As in his earlier movie "About A Boy," director Chris Weitz here explores familiar ground: the nature of manhood and the need for a father figure, and what it means to be that figure.

Here the emergency - a stolen truck - gives the father a chance to spend time in his son's company, a single parent trying to transfer a sense of himself and his heritage to his son.

The truck in question was sold to Gallindo by his former employer Blasco (Joaquin Cosio) who is eager to return to Mexico and wants to sell the truck (and related landscaping buiness) to his employee-partner. Gallindo takes a loan to purchase it in the hopes that the extra income will help him get his son out of the barrio, away from the gangs, and into a good school.

When the truck is stolen, he faces the loss of the loan and those dreams. Obviously, as an illegal immigrant, he can't go to the police - so he enlists his son's help to find it, and the two criss-cross Los Angeles on a Saturday outing to remember.

Unknown to his father, Luis faces another critical decision. He is being recruited by the local gang, and one of the members, a relative of his girlfriend, has requested to meet him to "discuss his future." Should he become a 'made man,' as his best friend recommends?

Los Angeles is very much a central character in this story. As Weitz notes,

"My crew and I did our very best to render these circumstances faithfully and without prejudice. Our researches took us to Homeboy Industries, the gang intervention program begun by the legendary Father Gregory Boyle, S.J.; the I.C.E. detention center in Santa Ana; Ramona Gardens, the Boyle Heights project that's home to the Big Hazard gang; and Pico Rivera, the bull-ring in Whittier where the charros, Mexican cowboys, keep their culture alive."

Demian Bechir, a veteran of Mexican cinema and late of Weeds, plays Carlos as a doggedly persistent person who takes everything in stride - the jibes of his son, the demands of his clients, the theft of his truck - but never accepts defeat.

Weitz has made a movie that does not ask for pity or even agreement, but a deeper understanding of the effect of illegal immigration on people like you and me. Perhaps such understanding can lead, finally, to a more constructive debate on this important topic. It is worth the viewing, and the effort.