"You can think what you like," Paul says. That sentiment applies to Mr. Porumboiu's dryly funny, enigmatic new work.

When Evening Falls is intriguing as the latest intervention in cinema's long debate on itself, but non-specialists will find it a little arid.

Porumboiu keeps his cards very close to his vest with these deadpan performances-a far cry from the buffoonery in his other films-and with lengthy debates, at dinner and in cars, that vacillate between playful and pedantic.

I step away from When Evening Falls on Bucharest or Metabolism with more questions than answers.