Directed by Vittorio DeSica
Starring Lamberto Maggiorani, Enzo Staiola, Lianella Carell
Italy, 1947
Not Rated (nothing offensive)
THE ART OF SIMPLICITY
Roberto Rossellini and Vittorio DeSica ushered in the Italian film movement known as neorealism. It was a highly influential movement in search of "pure cinema"; its rules asked its filmmaker followers to create movies around very simple, ordinary lives and extract a human truth. The Bicycle Thief is arguably the most famous, important, and celebrated film of this 1940’s Italian cinema era and it’s also hailed as one of the best films ever made. That it is: it is deeply moving and thrilling and simple. Several friends of mine thought the whole film was an awful mistake- much ado about nothing. I find it realistic because it doesn’t smooth out the bitterness in its story; it describes a difficult period in time for postwar Italy; and, most importantly, it accentuates a complex and beautiful relationship between its father and son protagonists. Films like these are so telling about why a good bulk of motion pictures are lame.
The entire film is dedicated to the search of a bicycle. Antonio Ricci (Lamberto Maggiorani, a non-professional actor chosen by DeSica) is shown at the beginning amidst a flock of unemployed townspeople. He may have just won a job but he soon discovers it requires a bicycle. He has already pawned his bicycle to feed his family, but he lies and gets the job. His wife (Lianella Carell) pawns the bed sheets so Antonio can get a bike for his job. He has been hired as a poster hanger and, on his first day, he hangs Rita Hayworth posters all over Rome.
His bike is soon stolen by a thief, impoverished like himself. He goes to the police but they are no help. He begins a tedious hunt for the bike, clumsily attempting to sift through every bicycle in Rome. Bruno (Enzo Staiola), his son, accompanies him. The two meet a variety of people, many of which are poor and desperately trying to make money. There is an elderly woman who claims to have mystical powers as a psychic. Throngs of weakened folk line up outside her door. There is a poor old man who finds sanctuary in church. Towards the end of the film, Antonio sees his thief on the streets and follows him back home. The young man is very weak and when Antonio demands his bicycle back, the neighborhood gangs up against him, feverishly scolding him for accusing helpless people.
There’s a sort of unity and isolation DeSica depicts between the poverty-stricken citizens of Italy. Everyone is scrounging to make a buck to feed their families, but heated desperation often leads these men to steal needed materials from other men just like them. It is an ugly cycle and Antonio continues it at the end when he, at the breaking point, tries to steal a seemingly abandoned bike on the streets. He is caught and suddenly is able to slightly empathize with the thief who did him wrong. The poor are all connected in the film: they don’t need pleasure, they need money.
Neorealism allows truth to sprout from truthful, realistic situations. The Bicycle Thief is not all misery. We are able to witness the shifting roles of a father-son relationship. Antonio is a caring father and, after the tiresome search, he has just about given up on finding his bike in the huge city. He treats his son and himself to a meal. They are only able to afford mozzarella on bread and DeSica’s camera shows a wealthier family at a table nearby Antonio’s. The family is eating as many servings of pasta as they desire. Antonio and Bruno try to get drunk on wine but the realization is still clear and pervasive: Antonio can hardly afford this meal. And his bicycle is not likely to turn up. It is a warm scene that sums up the loving relationship between Antonio and Bruno.
The Bicycle Thief is so interesting because it shows a great equality between the two. Antonio is sometimes allowed to be a great, caring, capable father who is responsible for Bruno. Sometimes, the boy is allowed to be the fathering figure. Their bond is the highlight of this masterpiece.
The Bicycle Thief is not as famous as it used to be. It seems to have fallen out of the sight of the public eye. Hopefully it will be rediscovered as one of cinema’s finest films. It has an indelible simplicity that’s full and contemplative, from which grows a complexity of relationships, people, and humanity. DeSica seamlessly weaves complexity into simplicity, giving us brilliant performances by non-actors, breathtaking cinematography, and a fable that restores a viewer’s faith in honest and profoundly moving storytelling.
By Andrew Chan