Y Tu Mamá También is a wonderful film on so many levels.
On a first look it shows us this "reasonably" accessible coming-of-age tale of two teenage boys, their loves, their pains, their angst and their voluptuous female guide to adulthood.

Then, on the next level, you may start to notice how Cuaron lets his camera linger from inside the car to whatever it is that happens outside of it. We see funerals, poverty, the turbulent state of the country. Mixed with the voice-over by an omniscient narrator providing what seem to be more footnotes than necessary, we get a rather post-modern study of how these kids act, react and, dare I say it, survive in this messy world that reaches all the way from the crowded city to the furthest reaches of the land, almost into the sea.

And finally, on the deepest level we find what I hope everybody finds when watching this film: recognizability. As with many coming-of-age films we see characters that we can relate to. We recognize the fighting, the friendship, the hate, the jealousy, the firsts and the lasts and we may even start to long for that time because it learned us more than any other moment of our life did. I mean, have you ever seen a film that is so aware of its time, setting, characters and itself that it can literally put forth quotes like this:
"The only time he had felt this pain in his stomach was when he was 8, when he woke up thirsty one night and on his way to the kitchen found his mother in his godfather's arms."
Things like this are told with equal amounts of nonchalance and deep sincerity, making these often unspeakable feelings suddenly very accessible.

Now that's some filmmaking power right there.
BRILLIANCE!!