The movie reveals few details about Ahmad and even those are fleeting and gathered through indirect references. There is little or no dialogue and a bulk of the movie consists of shots of Ahmad dragging his cart down the Avenue of the Americas. We don’t know how Ahmad lost his wife, we don’t know what caused his mother-in-law to blame him and consequently take his son and we don’t know what made him (or forced him to) give up his career as a famous musician. But all that is irrelevant, Bahrani seems to say. The point of the movie is not the intricate details of Ahmad’s past. The point is what Ahmad is now. And, as Ahmad himself says, “I’m just a Pakistani guy. Selling coffee and doughnuts. That's it.” Indeed, that’s all Ahmad is. No more, no less.
With clear allusions to Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus, highlighting the absurdity of our everyday Sisyphean existence, Bahrani creates a bittersweet drama that tells the story of a man who wants to be anonymous. This is a man who has seen fame and has probably come close to fortune, but has abandoned it. It is a riches-to-rags story of someone who is content to exist on the fringes of society. The movie exposes us to what can arguably be the worst possible circumstances for a man to endure. But like De Sica’s The Bicycle Thief, it also shows us that life, when stripped of its superficial aspects, is not much at all, but is enough for us to be happy. This independent film comes highly recommended.
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