The Bicycle Thief

For all the great stories and scripts that twist and turn, throwing you for a loop around every corner, sometimes the simplest plot devices are the best.  There's nothing to distract from a single, pointed effort as a character searches for one thing, something that needs to be achieved at all costs to continue living in any sort of reasonable fashion. That's one of many reasons I really enjoyed 1948's The Bicycle Thief.

As a fan of movies in general, I try to watch movies from different countries and not just U.S. made productions.  The more I see, the more I like Italian films, especially the neo-realistic films that hit theaters in the years following WWII. The beauty of these movies is their basis in reality. In an age of editing and style where films make you very aware that you are in fact watching a movie, these Italian films do just the opposite. These are slice of movies, partially out of necessity, partially out of an intentional style. This is life. Watch it, and go along for the ride. I like all sorts of movies, but it is refreshing watching movies like this every so often.

Struggling to support his small family including his wife, Maria (Lianella Carell) and his two small children, Antonio Ricci (Lamberto Maggiorani) manages to get a job placing posters all over Rome for fair wages. The only requirement for the job is that he needs to have a bicycle at his disposal. He gets one, renting one for all the money he can put together between him and his wife. He heads off to work on his first day, excited and ready to start, only to have the bike stolen a few hours in. Wanting to keep his new-found job, Antonio starts a desperate search with his son, Bruno (Enzo Staiola), through the city for any sign of the bike. The search is like looking for a needle in a haystack, and Antonio begins to question if anything can go right for him.

Is that one of the most simple, straightforward stories you've ever heard? Man needs bike for job, bike gets stolen, man needs to find bike. It's criminally simplistic, but I think that's part of the genius of the movie. Anything more "dramatic," anything more over-the-top or emotional would have failed miserably.  Director Vittoria De Sica never tries to do anything else, knowing he's got the perfect tone as is. There is nothing to distract from the issue at hand. Don't go in thinking there is a twist coming halfway through. Half of the movie -- literally, not figuratively -- is Antonio and Bruno searching the stores, fairs and markets of Rome on a Sunday morning and afternoon. That's it. It is almost idiotic how straightforward it is, and I mean that in the most positive sense.

One of De Sica's trademarks as a director -- as was the case with many Italian directors at the time -- was to cast amateur actors in key lead roles.  Maggiorani was in 16 movies in his career, most of them bit parts and none of them as important or as moving as his part here as Antonio, a father stretched to his limit. Carell is equally as good as Maria, his equally distressed wife who knows they must grasp at any gasp of hope in front of them. She basically disappears once the search starts, letting the spotlight shine on Maggiorani and Staiola playing their eldest son, Bruno. When you see so many awful child actors around, it's always nice to see some talent. Like all of the actors here, young Staiola is as natural as they come. It never feels forced, his performance feeling genuine, a young boy who worships his Dad and would do anything to help him.

That is the heart of the movie, the father and son relationship, the father-son bonding that happens over the course of their day-long search. Some of the movie's most beautiful parts are montages set to composer Alessandro Cicognini's score of Antonio and Bruno walking through the crowded Rome streets. Maybe because they weren't classically trained actors, but this relationship (like so much of the movie) is as authentic as possible. They joke and argue, always looking out for each other. The city of Rome ends up being its own character thanks to De Sica's direction and Carlo Montuori's cinematography. Like many European cities, it is hard to make Rome not look good, but in black and white filming, it is a visually gorgeous, even stunning city. You fall in love with the city and all its beauty.

The Italian movies I've seen are notorious for downer endings, if "downer" is the right choice. The endings are typically realistic, and how about that? Real-life solutions aren't always happy. The Bicycle Thief is no exception. Realizing their efforts are fruitless, Antonio attempts to steal a bike only to get caught in the effort. Seeing the strain on this man, the bike's owner decides not to press charges. Antonio and Bruno walk away as the sun sets, dejected at their lack of success and not knowing what awaits them. The End. It came as a surprise certainly for me, but it is a thing of beauty. Seeing Antonio's anguish as he contemplates stealing the bike and ultimately decides to do it is an uncomfortable, moving scene to watch unfold. I liked the ending because it is real. There's rarely a nice, tidy ending, and anything else would have seem forced here.

The Bicycle Thief <---trailer (1948): *** 1/2 /****