It takes a lot for me to fall in love with a film that hails from the 1940's and 50's. Its not really because they're not quality films, but because of the "gee-whiz" acting that can plague many of the films that flooded Hollywood at the time. This would explain why I've been recently falling in love with a lot of foreign films that came out in the 40's and 50's. Not only are the stories more provocative, but the acting is richer and far more real then most of what Hollywood was putting out during the same period. This can be attributed to some of the ad-hoc filming seen in earlier films which adds a sense of realism and unpredictability to the film, but also the casting of real people who bring an honest performance to the screen. The aforementioned attributes are what make Vittorio de Sica's "Ladri Di Biciclette" (aka "The Bicycle Thief") an honest and stirring masterpiece.
The film opens in a post World War II Italian city, as we follow Antonio Ricci, a poor man looking for a job in a country crippled by a depression. The situation is further harrowing considering Antonio has a wife and son to care for. Fortunately though, in opening frames Antonio receives a job hanging up posters. The hitch is that he needs a bicycle in order to do and keep his job. With some help from his wife and selling their bed sheets, Antonio is able to purchase a bike, so he can work and provide for his family. So, initially the film starts rather light and everything seems to be going Antonio's way. But, on his first day of work his bicycle gets stolen and soon whatever momentum he had is taken away. The premise itself is so simple, yet so affective. Throughout the film Antonio and his son (played wonderfully by Enzo Staiola) search throughout their Italian city, just hoping to find the bike and the thief. With such a simple premise, de Sica slowly builds an anxiety as the film wears on, that soon becomes a burden on not only the character of Antonio, but also the viewer themselves. With each missed opportunity and each passing moment, we know that if the bike is not found, a family will surely break and suffer.
As mentioned before, di Sica sets up this looming sense of doom masterfully. When Antonio and his son are so close, he simply pushes them away farther and farther as the film moves along. This becomes even more apparent in one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film where Antonio and his son decide to spend their last dollars on a "final meal" of sorts at a high end restaurant. I don't want to divulge too much information on this scene, because it is extremely effective, but it essentially details the desperation and seperation between the "haves" and "have nots." This idea of desperation and seperation are themes that play a pivotal role throughout the film and in an ending that will surely crush you. Where, with the day waning and Antonio's desperation running high, issues of morality come into play and its no longer about finding a bike or justice. Instead it questions what would we do to ensure our family even a morsel of food? Better yet, what would we become to ensure it?
These questions coupled with terrific performances and a sweet score, take what is a simple, linear premise, and stretch it into a landmark film not only for Italian cinema, but for the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment