Ramin Bahrani writes and directs "Man Push Cart", the story of Ahmad Razvi, a young Pakistani-American street vendor who wakes up at 3am every morning to collect his thousand pound steel cart and drag it to a sales point in Manhattan. From this cart, Ahmad sells coffee, tea, muffins and bagels, though on the side he also sells bootlegged DVDs.
The film is a modern day Sisyphus tale, Ahmad, like a figure torn from the annals of Greek mythology, condemned to a life of endless and futile labour. When he's not chained to his cart, heaving its massive bulk through the busy streets of New York, Ahmad tends to an abandoned kitten, longs to see his son (who hardly remembers him and who lives with his maternal grandparents), mourns the death of his wife and frets over not being able to instigate a romantic relationship, let alone communicate, with a beautiful Spanish girl who works at a newsstand.
There are shades of early De Sisca, Visconti and Rossellini, "Man Push Cart" playing like a scrumptiously digital take on early neorealist films. Beyond this the film works well on at least three other levels, Bahrani serving up an affective tone-poem, and doing well to sustain an ambiance of affective despair. Precisely because he leaves out all references to the dangers that have dogged American Muslims and immigrants post 9/11, the film also has a certain political force, shining light on human faces many are quick to dismiss or deem alien. Mostly, though, the film works well as an exercise in existential minimalism. Ahmad's struggles are human and universal. Comparisons to Robert Bresson are therefore apt, though unlike Bresson's films, the absurdity, cruelty even, of Ahmad's travails never quite gets under your skin.
8/10 – Though an excellent film, this is a slight, one note movie, which perhaps overly romanticises its cast and its eye-popping city lights. See "Wendy and Lucy" and "Land of Plenty". Worth one viewing.
The film is a modern day Sisyphus tale, Ahmad, like a figure torn from the annals of Greek mythology, condemned to a life of endless and futile labour. When he's not chained to his cart, heaving its massive bulk through the busy streets of New York, Ahmad tends to an abandoned kitten, longs to see his son (who hardly remembers him and who lives with his maternal grandparents), mourns the death of his wife and frets over not being able to instigate a romantic relationship, let alone communicate, with a beautiful Spanish girl who works at a newsstand.
There are shades of early De Sisca, Visconti and Rossellini, "Man Push Cart" playing like a scrumptiously digital take on early neorealist films. Beyond this the film works well on at least three other levels, Bahrani serving up an affective tone-poem, and doing well to sustain an ambiance of affective despair. Precisely because he leaves out all references to the dangers that have dogged American Muslims and immigrants post 9/11, the film also has a certain political force, shining light on human faces many are quick to dismiss or deem alien. Mostly, though, the film works well as an exercise in existential minimalism. Ahmad's struggles are human and universal. Comparisons to Robert Bresson are therefore apt, though unlike Bresson's films, the absurdity, cruelty even, of Ahmad's travails never quite gets under your skin.
8/10 – Though an excellent film, this is a slight, one note movie, which perhaps overly romanticises its cast and its eye-popping city lights. See "Wendy and Lucy" and "Land of Plenty". Worth one viewing.