by Judy Geater
It seems like such a small story. Yet, through the theft of a bike, this powerful Italian neo-realist film, directed by Vittorio De Sica, shows up the struggle which was the reality of daily life for so many children and parents. It also brilliantly explores the relationship between a father and a young son put under pressure by the world around them, two figures in a crowd.
Cinematographer Carlo Montuori’s stark black-and-white photography, showing the streets of post-war Rome and endless small details of everyday life, always has something going on in the background. There’s a feeling throughout of all the other stories surrounding this one, all the other poor people who are facing their own struggles. Nobody else has time to worry about this one family’s suffering.
Most of the main cast were not professional actors, which helps to give the atmosphere of bleak realism. The little boy, Bruno, whose haunting expression is one of the images from the film which lingers in the mind, was played by Enzo Staiola, aged seven, who turned up to watch the start of shooting. His father, Antonio, was portrayed by factory worker Lamberto Maggiorani, a non-professional actor whose real-life circumstances were not so far removed from those of the character he played. The imdb tells how he was laid off from the factory after making the film, and found it hard to get further roles as an actor.
At the start of the film, Antonio, a jobless father in impoverished post-war Rome, is struggling to support his wife, young son and baby. One day, he is finally the one picked out of a crowd of hungry hopefuls to win a job putting up film posters. However, he doesn’t think he will be able to take the job, because he doesn’t have a bicycle. Or rather, he does have one, but it has been pawned and there’s no money to get it out of hock until he gets a job. So it’s a vicious circle which there seems to be no prospect of squaring.
That is, until his wife, Maria (Lianella Carell) decides to strip their expensive sheets from the bed, left over from her dowry and the only valuable items she possesses, and take them to the pawn shop in place of the bicycle. The family will sleep on cheap sheets in future. There is a haunting shot of the expensive linen in the pawn shop, piled up high with endless sheets given up by other families.
The father looks so proud as he carefully pastes up the posters of Rita Hayworth, advertising a glamorous film in a completely different world from this one. But, as he stands on a ladder admiring his handiwork, a man lurking in the shadows – with a desperate look in his eye similar to that of Antonio earlier – suddenly emerges to snatch the bike and rush off with it.
Antonio and Bruno then set off on a chase through Rome, trying to get the bike back, but it seems the thief is always a step ahead. The fluctuating relationship between father and son is touchingly portrayed, as each tries to live up to the other’s expectations, with inevitable disappointments and conflict along the way.
Too often, though, the hard-pressed dad forgets all about his son in his quest for the bike. It’s quite painful to watch this at times, as the little boy continues to follow so hopefully, only to be ignored, snapped at or even slapped – although you know that beneath it all the father is devoted to his son. There are some happy moments, like the scene where Antonio decides to treat the tired and hungry Bruno to a pizza, although even then he can’t stop himself from calculating the cost. But most of the time the mood is one of frustration and anger.
As the search goes on, the bicycle becomes a symbol of so much that the family wants, and in particular so much that Bruno hopes for. If the bike is found then everything will be all right, he thinks, and he goes on hoping as a child hopes, even though really Antonio knows in his heart that this search is hopeless.
Eventually, and inevitably, the desperate Antonio is driven to steal a bike himself – just as the thief who took his bike in the first place was driven to do so. Now he too is one of the city’s bicycle thieves. But, unlike the more expert thief who took his, Antonio is caught and accused right away, and also has the humiliation of knowing that Bruno saw his shame.
The young son’s devastation here is the film’s unforgettable climax, and really the key moment in looking at this as a film about childhood, since he discovers in the most painful way imaginable that his father is flawed and all too human. But then there is the poignant ending where the child decides to take his dad’s hand, and the two of them move away together. Their future is even bleaker now than it was at the start, since there is no bike and nothing left to pawn, but they are still facing it together.
Lovingly concise review of one of the cinema’s supreme masterworks, Judy. Your piece here hits all the right notes, and is woven well into the childhood auspices of this project. This is one of those films with a universal underpinning that has unfailingly moved everyone from all cultures, and it remains one of the most revered works, certainly its director’s most famous creation. Zavatini’s contribution has been justly celebrated and the non-professionals have gone above and beyond. Yes the ending is one of the most powerful ever, it sends shivers down your spine. Devastating.
Right now they are staging a comprehensive De Sica Festival at NYC’s Film Forum.
Thanks so much, Sam. Definitely agree this is a supreme work and your description of its “universal underpinning” is spot on. I know you aren’t spending so much time at the Film Forum now as you used to, because you have many other things to do, but I bet you are tempted to catch a few of those De Sicas.
Excellent review, Judy Geater. Only the hardest of hearts won’t be shattered by this neo-realist masterwork. I always found it amazing that non-professionals were so effective. Everyone remembers the ending and rightfully so.
Thanks, Frank, very kind of you. I’ve also fairly recently seen Pather Panchali, and was thinking about how effective the non-professionals are in that, too.
A very fine piece on a very fine movie, Judy: thank you.
Have you ever seen Maurizio Nichetti’s Ladri di Saponette (1989; vt The Icicle Thief), which can be seen as a commentary on neorealism with a particular reference to this movie? It makes an interesting companion piece and is also pretty funny.
John, no, I haven’t seen that one – I will hope to do so, though. I’ve just checked and it isn’t out on DVD in the UK but is on Youtube at the moment, so I should hopefully be able to see it there.
Judy,
Great review here of an incomparable masterpiece. I’m struggling though at this particular time on really defining this as a film about childhood. I admit my own fault on this, as I voted for it at #35, but now since regret including it at all, as I believe it is a film about parenthood more than childhood. When we compare this film with the likes of other neo-realist films ‘Shoeshine’ or ‘Germany Year Zero’, I think it shows that those films out-focus Bicycle Thieves when it comes to the childhood aspect. We could look at nearly any other film on the countdown….Ponette, Kes etc. to show the direction of focus on the child. Yes, there are elements of the impact on the boy during the film and at the inclusion, but when the boy is not the main character/protagonist in the film, is the film really about childhood? That isn’t to say the main character is necessarily always the focus of any film, but it’s certainly not a resounding slam dunk (a top 10 placement) then if the focus isn’t clear. Couldn’t we say the film is more about the Father’s determination to prove his worth as a Father, to show his son that he’s capable of righting wrongs and sticking up for the family? I find the film more resonant on those aspects than the childhood aspects. I say the same thing about ‘The Kid’ from Chaplin, which, to me, is more about The Tramp’s sudden parenthood than the child.
What do you think? I’m not bashing anything about the film, nor your review which is great. I’m just honestly struggling with defining this as a film about childhood.
Interesting questions here, Jon, thanks for the great comment. I can see that the focus here is more on the parent than it is in the films you mention, or in say, ‘The Fallen Idol’, where we see what happens from the young boy’s viewpoint.
But the child is still playing such a key role here that I do think of this as a film about childhood and family love in these bleak circumstances, although having said that it would certainly also score highly if there were to be a list of films about parenthood. I think there’s a lot of overlap between the two.
That’s a fair point. I think you could make the case either way for sure and find points and elements to serve whichever angle one chooses.
Oh such a great movie and it inspired so many great directors to make movies. Such a beautiful portrayal of the post world war circumstances. Oh I feel sad that the actor who played Antonio had a tough time finding work after the movie. Very insightful and informative article!
Thanks so much, I appreciate it. A very great movie, as you say. Yes, it’s sad that the actor had a hard time finding work, as clearly from the film so many people did at that time.
One of the greatest of films, a tear jerker, but in the best sense. Economical review attentive to everything that matters most.
Thanks very much, Peter.
A movie I have enjoyed several times and I do think it deserves to be in the top of the list. I liked your write up and thought your choice of words was just great and really conveyed the feeling of this film. Thank you for sharing
Many thanks, Patricia – very kind of you.
I would have to say it is the most famous Italian film ever made. When the term neo-realism is brought up this film is the first mentioned. Excellent review, right to the point.
Judy, I thought I’d post the high definition trailer off You Tube:
Thanks, Tim, a great addition to have the trailer – and thanks also for the nice comment.
A serendipitous post following so closely Allan’s lost in translation piece.
It seems to me that great cinema from whatever culture has one important unifying element that doesn’t need an ‘in’. Indeed like the best silent cinema you don’t need dialog, translation or titles. You need an open heart to the reality of the struggle for a better life from whatever corner of the globe. Sadly still for the vast majority of humanity that daily struggle is all too real and immediate.
Bicycle Thieves is a towering achievement born of a simple and universal story made with compassion using real people on the streets on which their struggle for existence is played out.
Neo-realism is perhaps the greatest legacy a national cinema has produced, and Bicycle Thieves the paragon of that movement.
Childhood, despite the failings of adults, the tyranny of disadvantage, and the other terrible ways we can blight it, rests on one thing. Love. From love comes compassion – the best emotion a film can aspire to. And de Sica had truckloads.
What an elegant comment Tony. I do think there’s something to be said for the universality of humanity….at some point we are all Human and should be able to connect on some level despite our differences in culture, language etc.
Yes a beautiful comment from Tony indeed. Italian neo-realism is another kind of film he has superbly delineated and appreciated over the years.
A great comment, Tony – you get to the heart of why this film makes such an impact and is so memorable, and also sadly so relevant to the lives of many people today, as we can see on the nightly news. I definitely need to see more Italian neo-realist films.
this is a brilliant film,, neo-realism at its best,. and Judy your piece does it justice.
Thanks, John, I appreciate it.
One of the cinema’s greatest masterpieces, served beautifully in this stellar treatment.
Thank you, David. Now I need to see more by De Sica.