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From Lahore to NYC
Man Push Cart
Directed by Ramin Bahrani
Certificate 15
THE Greek myth of Sisyphus, where the unfortunate chap has to roll a rather large rock to a top of a mountain, and then watch the granite lump trundle back down again, is the inspiration for Iranian writer/director Ramin Bahrani.
Ahmad (Ahmad Razvi) is the unfortunate hero of the tale. A former pop singer from Lahore, in Pakistan, he now finds himself struggling through the sleepy, dawn-kissed streets of Manhattan, laboriously shifting one of those coffee and bagel carts that have begun to spring up outside Tube stations in London to his own spot to catch the bleary-eyed on their way to work.
Life is tough. He has to load up his stall long before sunrise then negotiate the unforgiving streets of New York to reach his regular spot. And Ahmad’s pain stems not from the daily tribulations of his minimum wage work. He has not only tasted the high life as a Pakistani pop sensation, but the real grief comes from the death of his wife in an accident.
It holds him back at every turn. When the attractive Noemi reveals her feelings for him, he finds it hard to react in the way that both would like. The loss of his wife is still too raw.
There are some interesting takes on the lot of the immigrant, and director Bahrani does his best to keep it low key and let the audience decide for themselves about how tough it can be.
There is a simplicity about the tale which makes it feel original, and means that although this film undoubtedly tugs on your heartstrings, it is also done in such a way that the director has not telegraphed the fact to the audience. Instead, from watching him load his goods on to the cart, and then dodge the cars and rubbish lorries, we have an insight into a cruel world of cheap labour.
He has other issues too. His son is being looked after by in-laws who sneer at him, he has constant money worries which means he has to flog pornographic DVDs, a distasteful side-line which does nothing for his self-esteem.
But then entrepreneur Mohammad spots him and remembers his music from Pakistan. He thinks there could be a chance to get him singing again, in the US. But such carrots are forlorn hopes in this murky, pre-dawn world.
There is an air of the documentary about this, and that has to be a testimony to the careful direction and cinematography.
There is also a Ken Loach-like feel to the acting, with scenes having a realism which comes from letting the actors ad-lib their way through a situation.
It is often easy to forget this is a work of fiction.
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