Vittorio De Sica: Ladri di biciclette (The Bicycle Thief)
“[It's] nothing, it’s just a bicycle.”
So says the policeman that Antonio (Lamberto Maggiorani) files a complaint with after his bicycle is stolen. But to Antonio, it’s not just a bicycle. It’s the difference between life and death, or at least a means of living and poverty.
Set in post-WWII Italy, “The Bicycle Thief” (literal translation: “Bicycle Thieves”) is a dark film, reminiscent of American Film Noir. After a long period of unemployment, Antonio gets a job posting flyers for Rita Hayworth films. The job requires that he own a bicycle. The only problem is that he pawned his bicycle some time prior to feed his wife, son, and baby. He pawns his wife’s dowry sheets to get his bicycle back. The man at the pawn shop takes his sheets, and files them away near the top of a massive set of shelves, all full of sheets. The camera moves back, revealing an entire room (3 stories high, at least) full of sheets, all pawned by people for whom eating is more important than sleeping comfortably.
Antonio gets his bicycle back, and goes to work. He drops his young son, Bruno (Enzo Staiola), off at a gas station on the way, where he works. All is going well on his first day, until the bicycle is stolen by a young man and his accomplice.
Antonio enlists the help of his friends and son to track down his missing bicycle. They look in the markets, and scour the streets, all to no avail. Shot after shot pans past innumerable bicycles and parts as they look. The sheer number of bicycles on the streets of Rome is dizzying, and this is emphasized in virtually every shot of the film.
Antonio eventually tracks down the thief. A policeman is called, and they search the thief’s room, but find nothing. Because of the lack of evidence, Antonio is forced to let him go. As he leaves, the thief’s neighbors heckle and threaten him.
Faced with no alternative, Antonio confronts a moral dilemma: should he continue searching, or steal a bicycle himself? He chooses the latter. While he has his flaws, he’s not a hardened criminal like the man who stole his bike. He’s caught, but his victim lets him go after seeing Bruno. Thus Antonio becomes the eponymous thief.
Antonio is not a good father, and he realizes this at the end of the film. Bruno is mindful of others, while Antonio is prone to thoughtless outburts. Bruno loves him anyway, with the unconditional love of a child.
De Sica displays a preternatural flair for the camera, with dynamic camera moves and angles. He echoes some of the style of early Hitchcock, while foreshadowing Kubrick’s use of tracking. In particular, the shot of Bruno as he watches his father (towards the end of the film) is astounding.
This film reminds me of Kurosawa’s “Stray Dog (野良犬),” which was released the next year. Both are set in the post-WWII era of an Axis country, and both involve a character who has an item essential to his job stolen. “The Bicycle Thief” is the better of the two films, in my opinion. It adds a depth of character that “Stray Dog” lacks, and is an insightful look into postwar Italian life.