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The Reel Queens: ‘Chop Shop’ a moving tale of youth, poverty in boro

By Nathan Duke

Clad mostly in a sleeveless blue T-shirt and jeans, Ale spends his mornings working on cars and the rest of his days hawking candy on the subway and pirated DVDs to Queens merchants, stealing hubcaps and occasionally snatching purses. In a moment of bitter irony, Ale stands in the trashed streets of his neighborhood as a large sign telling passersby to “Make Dreams Happen” looms at nearby Shea Stadium. Much like his previous film “Man Push Cart,” the 2006 tale of a Pakistani street vendor from Manhattan that bore some similarities to “The Bicycle Thief,” Bahrani's latest is cinematically rewarding, albeit emotionally punishing. With its lack of scripted dialogue and visual realism, unaware moviegoers could mistake “Chop Shop” for a documentary, despite the filmmaker's questionable choice of not explaining the complete absence of Ale and Isamar's parental units. The film's locale rivals Ale as its most pivotal character with its masses of immigrant characters performing their day's work on the streets of Willets Point for all to see, its trains rumbling on overhead tracks and reggaeton-blaring cars gliding down near-deserted streets. In an interview with the TimesLedger last fall, Bahrani said he typically becomes fascinated with a location and then writes a script inspired by it.Willets Point has long been a source of controversy as developers and mayors have struggled for nearly 50 years to develop the 60-acre site that sits adjacent to Shea Stadium. Mayor Michael Bloomberg has proposed a plan that would completely demolish the neighborhood's myriad auto-repair businesses and salvage yards and replace them with a massive mixed-use complex, costing an estimated $3 billion and including more than 5,000 mixed-income housing units, a convention center, retail and office space and a hotel. The neighborhood has repeatedly been criticized by city officials for its dilapidated appearance, as well as a lack of sewers, streetlights and paved roads, while more than 250 businesses in the area have opposed the proposed redevelopment plan, arguing that their economic community is viable.Although the film is broken down into vignettes of Ale and Isamar's daily activities in the Iron Triangle, emphasizing location and visual style over story and character development, Bahrani creates a fair amount of suspense with his deceptively simple setup. Does the chop shop's owner know that Ale is allowing his sister to live there as well and, if not, what will he do about it? Or will Isamar's extracurricular money-making ventures of the evening yield tragic consequences? And will a business venture made between Ale and a pal's uncle pan out? In Bahrani's films, his downtrodden characters' daily lives are a source of unease, negating the need for plot-heavy suspense. Much like “Man Push Cart,” his latest explores themes of poverty, immigrant life in urban centers and dreams of a brighter future, making it the American equivalent of acclaimed films about street children such as India's “Salaam Bombay” and two films from Brazil, “City of God” and “Pixote.”The director, who is of Iranian descent but was born in North Carolina and now lives in Brooklyn, had Polanco work in a Willets Point locale similar to the one portrayed in the film, so the film has an authentic, lived-in feel to it. And Ale is given just the right amount of characterization, revealing about as much as a sullen teen of his age might in an actual documentary. “Chop Shop” unsentimentally shows not only how the other half lives, but also how nearly impossible it is to break out of the cycle of poverty. In one of the film's more poignant scenes, Ale does pull-ups on a bar reserved for hanging clothing in his humble abode as if he were literally attempting to pull himself out of his lot in life. One of the film's more ironic touches is the fact that he is constantly surrounded by a literal means for escape – namely, hundreds of automobiles – but is trapped by his age, lack of parental guidance and, of course, money. In fact, the film keeps viewers on edge throughout its 85-minute running time as to whether anyone will discover where Ale stashes his cash.”Chop Shop” ends on a figurative note of escape, playing off an earlier scene in which a mentor of sorts teaches Ale how to catch pigeons while feeding them. The film is undoubtedly sad, but its tone of despair is occasionally infiltrated by a note of hope.”Chop Shop” is currently playing at the Film Forum in Manhattan.