Ladri di biciclette
I only knew films about the Italian neorealist were an early cinema genre in the late 1940s and 1950s when I was introduced to the film 'Bicycle Thieves' or 'Ladri di Biciclette.' Filmed in war-torn Rome, I was immediately drawn to the character of Antonio Ricci's energy and his slight desperation shining through in the film's beginning to find a job so he can provide for his wife and two young children.
The film's plot is an easy one for audiences to follow. A man needs a job and gets the job. Man needs a bike to commute to the job. Man gets a bike. When disaster strikes, the man's bicycle is stolen, and now the man must go through the streets of Rome looking for the thief along with the help of his son - the loveable Bruno.
There is a ton of raw emotion in this film, and one of my favorite scenes is when Bruno is cleaning his father's bike the night before he has to travel for work, getting frustrated at himself that it is not spotless like he wants it. I always find it heartwarming and comfortable watching a family dynamic on screen, especially in 'Bicycle Thieves,' I can never understand why. Something as simple as a young son cleaning his father's bike, unaware and innocent of their family's financial struggles, does not seem to phase him as anything the father does in front of his son can be seen as spectacular and the best thing in the world.
As Bruno and Antonio get ready for work the following day, the Mise-en-scene plays a critical element in the intent of this sequence. As Bruno imitates, everything his father is doing shows this time's hard labor and child labor - something audiences back in the 1940s can relate to.
The acting in 'Bicycle Thieves' was powerful, and it surprised me to find out that the actors had no prior professional acting experience. In an article from the New York Times, the author AO Scott writes, "Some of the mystique around "Bicycle Thieves" rests on this fact, on the arguable but durable belief that minimal acting technique will produce maximal authenticity" (Scott). On a mission to find his missing bike, Antonio Ricci and his son Bruno run through the rougher parts of Rome for the rest of the movie.
Slowly starting to witness Antonio spiraling and desperate in his search, as an audience member, you are taken along for this emotional journey and, at least for me, can't help but make sure Bruno is sticking with his father and not in any danger as they rush through crowds, dodging cars, and pressing strangers for any information that may be helpful.
Like the plot, the film's entirety is simple and well done. As Scott writes, "Part of what draws filmmakers (and film lovers) to "Bicycle Thieves" is its purity and simplicity, but to emphasize those elements -- the unvarnished honesty of the performances, the gritty realness of the Roman streets, the raw emotions of the story -- is to risk underestimating its complexity and sophistication" (Scott).
For any film lover or someone new to cinema, watching Bicycle Thieves a few times through is the perfect example of how the structure of any great film should be.
