The Bicycle Thieves (1948)
Perhaps the most notable film of the neo-realist movement, Vittorio De Sica’s The Bicycle Thieves is as emotionally involving as its story is simple. Enormously successful upon its release, being that it achieved huge commercial and critical success outside of its native Italy, the film has remained a perenial favourite of viewers and scholars alike ever since.
The tale of unemployed Antonio (Lamberto Maggiorani) who receives a job on the proviso that he has a bicycle, the film serves to remind how it is the smallest of factors that can influence a great deal. Having had his bicycle stolen on his first day in the job, we follow Antonio and his son Bruno (Enzo Staiola) as they search for his missing bicycle throughout the underside of Rome. We follow our protagonists as they encounter various situations that serve to remind them of their situation in life, with some serving as a reminder of the positive aspects of what they have, and others reminding them of the oppresive and negative aspects.
Due to the nature of the opening section of the film, and the way in which the struggle of the unemployed is laid out, the impact of him losing the bike is made all the more effective and emotional. The sacrifice of the bed sheets (to a man with a staggering amount of linen that will surely never be sold) in order to purchase his pawned bike creates a focus point for the level of desperation the people of post-war Italy are living in. So much so, that when Antonio’s bike is stolen, the bicycle thief hasnt just stolen his bike, he’s stolen his job, he’s stolen his livelihood, his ambition and even his confidence. The bike is effectively a symbol in an alagorical tale.
The hopeless nature of Antonio’s search for his bicycle is outlined from the start, with the protagonists seemingly lost in a sea of bicycles at the local market. Its the perfect opportunity for some outstanding photography, which borders on experimental, such is the juxtoposition of the imagery alongside the sounds of bells ringing and crowds talking. The Bicycle Thieves is an incredibly accessible piece of cinema, and as someone who is largely unfamiliar with Neo-Realism I found it to be a successful experience, especially when compared to the recently viewed Rome, Open City (Here)
Dramatically the film is very much a character piece, and aside from some stunning photography, the film relies on little more than the tale of Antonio and Bruno, and their adventure of sorts. The bond between the two is notable for being one of cinema’s great father and son relationships, with Bruno’s crumbling respect for his father being the emotional backbone for the film. If one were to compare the way that Bruno looks upon his father in his first scene, with that of the last, a great and deeply affecting difference would be noted. The downfall of Antonio is the main focus of the story, but its the involvement and witnessing of the act by Bruno that really hits home. Bruno and Antonio are used as tools for social commentary for much of the running time, with the most noted sequence being the one in the restaurant. Unfamiliar with the concept of an eaterie that isn’t a pizza parlour (the food of the peasant in post-war Italy), Bruno, unable to actually use a knife and fork, resorts to using his hands. The concept of justice is explored deeply too, with the role of an injust situation being the straw that broke the camels back effectively. This theme in particular is especially resonent, with public confidence in justice at a particular low. The Bicycle Thieves is a film about the failure of the judicial system and the impact that bad decisions can have, with Antonio being perhaps the ultimate display of innocence or naivety, in that he simply wants to exist. He isn’t a man of many means, he doesn’t want for much, just the opportunity to raise and support his family.
The Bicycle Thieves is a very tense piece of cinema, much in the same way that a film like The Wages of Fear is. The sequence involving the inevitable theft of the bicycle is a piece of pacing genius, with the lead up to it being mischievous and self referential. This tense attitude returns several times, with the drowning boy scene being a particular standout, as well as the sequence involving Antonio accuses the thief and the scene in which he himself steals the bicycle. This scene in particular, with its orchestra of crowds cheering, as if to beckon Antonio, is especially strong. The viewer feels for Antonio in the respect that we don’t want him to resort to stealing, yet know it is inevitable. During the build up to Antonio’s act we see him queuing for a bus, the constricting nature of which serves as the perfect anchor point to the freedom offered by the bicycle.
Tim Burton famously riffed on The Bicycle Thieves in his Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, alas with a more suitable “happy ending”, which is something I desperately wanted from Di Sica’s opus, alas it wasn’t to be; as inevitable a climax as Antonio’s own plight, The Bicycle Thieves is one of cinema’s greats.
