Chop Shop

First off, Chop Shop is not a slasher flick. The chop shop of the title is a somewhat disreputable auto body shop in New York; some of the parts used there may (or may not) come from dismantled stolen cars. You might want to think of Chop Shop as an American Slum Dog Millionaire: two orphans left to their own devices in a rather amoral environment that threatens extreme poverty. Only the conditions are altered because it is set in America; the setting is literally in the shadow of Shea Stadium where the Mets play. Besides the setting, the other big difference from Slum Dog is that it is essentially a Hollywood movie dressed up as realism; here the reality is, well, real. The impoverished protagonist does not find himself on a nationally broadcast quiz show to be united with his long-lost love and to become rich in the process.

Alejandro (Ale for short) is about 12, of Hispanic descent; we never hear anything about his background and there is no mention of parents. He is living in a jerry-rigged room above the body repair shop where he works in the day as a car parker and apprentice body man. He has various moneymaking schemes, including peddling of porn videos and hawking candybars on subway cars (one of the film’s best scenes). Early in the film he persuades his sister, Isamer, who seems at loose ends, to come live with him at the body shop. She manages to land a job work in a lunch van that seems to cater mostly to the body shops of the so-called Iron Triangle. Like Ale, she has a sideline: turning tricks with truckers at night. The siblings have a touching relationship, full of rough affection. They sleep in the same bed in a perfectly innocent fashion. In one heartbreaking scene Ale has treated his sister to dinner at a Mexican restaurant; one of her friends comes by and she deserts Ale to go to a party with her; he is devastated. Ale is disappointed at her prostituting herself, but he works hard to keep their little family unit together. He sells her on his fantasy of purchasing an old luch van, fixing it up, and going into business on their own. When she buys into the dream, he kicks it into high gear, needing $4500 to buy the decrepit van. He even accepts her ill-gotten money for the kitty. This being, as I said, a realistic film, Ale’s dream of the van does not come true; he is so angered by that failure that, when he sees his sister in a car with a “client," he attacks the man and they both run off. Back at the body shop she is furious with him, but the next morning he devises a beautiful reconciliation with her, which I will refrain from revealing. The film simply ends at that point, with no grand resolution, except that they will continue to survive if not prevail.

I noted that Ale lives in what appears to be an amoral environment, but that only appears to the case. His relationship with his boss is exploitative, and the boss never shows any sign of affection for the boy, but he does provide him with a place to stay, lets him learn a trade that he may be able to live on with no education, and pays him regularly. Generally people in the Iron Triangle treat him pretty well, admit him into their rough social circle, and even do some favors for him. For his part, Ale does everything he can to save his sister from the life she appears to be headed for. And, if nothing else, we have to say that Ale, like most Americans, believes in working hard (not necessarily entirely above-board) to achieve what he wants.

The film is directed and written by Ramin Bahrani, born in Iran but a resident of North Carolina. He seems to have a very well-tuned sense of the immigrant experience in the US. He uses nonprofessional actors in his leads, which adds to the reality. This film moves very quickly and, in its dogged way, is more uplifting than the far-fetched Slum Dog Millionaire.