Film: Bicycle Thieves
Release date: 12th April 2010
Certificate: U
Running time: 87 mins
Director: Vittorio De Sica
Starring: Lamberto Maggiorani, Enzo Staiola, Lianella Carell, Gino Salamerenda
Genre: Crime/Drama
Studio: Arrow
Format: DVD
Country: Italy
Roberto Rossellini’s Rome, Open City (1945) reached worldwide recognition and acclaim, paving the way for other Italian Neo-realist directors that would go on to inspire generations of New Wave artists. Vittorio De Sica’s adaptation of the Luigi Bartolini novel, The Bicycle Thieves is a classic embodiment of the genre, and still stands today as an acute representation of its time and place.
Lamberto Maggiorani’s Antonio Ricci finds himself a job putting up posters after two years of unemployment with only a single clause: the poverty stricken father of two must show up on his first day with a bicycle. Antonio's wife pawns their bed linen so that her husband can once again claim his rightful place as the breadwinner of the family.
With everything seemingly on the up for the Ricci household, disaster strikes on Antonio’s first day into the job as his bike is stolen right in front of his eyes. A desperate search ensues by father and son, as they comb the vast city of Rome for the Fidus bike. Obstructed by a marketplace displaying row after row of bicycles, a mysterious tramp, the church and a blood thirsty mob combined, father and son also have their conscience to contend with in their flawed search for the already beaten vehicle…
Italian Neo-realism was a product and/or critique of the political circumstances in a country facing poverty and oppression following the Second World War. The director blends a story of hardship and labour, a reflection of the struggles that the Italian working class faced, with an engaging plot that would ultimately serve as a piece of political propaganda. The masses were able to experience the severity and consequences of the previous socialist government as a collective; the purpose of cinema had changed from a means of escape for the audience, to embracing the present and staring its problems straight on together.
De Sica's choice to cast non-actors in lead roles is a commonplace trait of the neo-realist genre, and Lamberto Maggiorani excels in the continuing slump of Antonio Ricci. What could be classed as a fall from grace is better described as a plummet, as the protagonist goes through all the motions during the eighty-seven minute duration, displaying bitter disappointment and anxiety before reaching breaking point. Enzo Staiola plays the faithful son Bruno Ricci, epitomising the hardships of neo-realism with his appearance alone. Staiola generates the more heartfelt performance, on hand to witness his father's demise.
Bicycle Thieves is an exploration into the human condition - Antonio's on-screen journey trundles through all aspects of desperation as his search for the stolen bike renders him ignorant and selfish. His helplessness is all the while revealed to his young son, who he unfairly expects to comprehend the devastation that lies ahead if their mission proves unsuccessful. Provoked and chastised by an angry mob, Antonio is prepared to use violence in front of the impressionable Bruno. The establishment breaks the lead character, the audience's closest connection, therefore sharing the same malice and torment inflicted upon Antonio.
The artistic quality of the film lies in the meticulously nurtured mise-en-scène. The back streets of Rome are impoverished and dilapidated, along with the spirits that dwell amongst the deteriorated surroundings. The city centre is vast and unforgiving, with the beautiful grandiosity of the architecture representing the dynasties of the powerful and rich that have respectfully controlled the ancient metropolis. Market places are endless and nauseating; the labyrinth of misleading alleyways ready to lead us astray. The camera work is precise, capturing the anguish and transgressions of the father - the intent of the perpetrators and the colossal urban terrain engulfing its inhabitants.
Then there's the soundtrack. Alessandro Cicognini's score provides the picture with colour - there's a sense of tragedy that allows the narrative to flow courtesy of a painful motif that reoccurs whenever the next dose of misery is injected.
There is a monotonous tone to Bicycle Thieves, and once the bike has been stolen and the agony sets in, the melancholic drone continues throughout, relentlessly clasping its grip around the two main characters, unmercifully holding on till the end credits. De Sica's effort and execution is unquestionably brilliant, and whilst there's sentimentality by the bucket load, it doesn't for one minute affect the credibility of the film. Suspense created by scenes such as the first visit to the fortune teller's apartment are perfectly paced; Antonio's naive faith in his fellow man, as he asks the playing boys to watch his bike, wouldn't seem so foolish if it weren't for the title of the film, thus making it the perfect narrative device.
Antonio's final act of self destruction serves as the crushing blow - the social order of Italy leads to despair, dragging our protagonist down to immoral depths that could never have been expected. It draws empathy, and would draw sympathy from the audience had this act not subjected his own son to humiliation and shame.
De Sica's world encompasses beauty and splendour in its surroundings, home to an impassioned and resolute populous. There lies a cold and tainted atmosphere in post-war Italy. A strict policy of 'survival of the fittest' applies, clashing with the romantic and trusting sensibilities of Antonio, causing a tragic corruption of his innocence. The upper classes eat in the most coveted restaurants, oblivious to the turmoil and struggle of those beneath them, whilst the humble Antonio reveals to his son the dreams and aspirations that came with his job.
This is a master class in precision filmmaking that will be forever cherished by cinema lovers. Undoubtedly worthy of its honorary Oscar in 1950, Bicycle Thieves is a perfect period piece, pushing viewers to the edge of destitution with both brutal and breathtaking sequences. JRO
No comments:
Post a Comment