-MONTHLY VHS & DVD REVIEW-
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The Bicycle Thieves
cast: Lamberto Maggiorani, Enzo Staiola, Lianella Ccarell, and Gino Saltamerenda
director: Vittorio De Sica
94 minutes (U) 1948
Arrow DVD Region 2 retail
RATING:
9/10
reviewed by Barry Forshaw
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Possibly the best-loved of all Italian neorealist films is Vittorio De Sica's Bicycle
Thieves (aka: Ladri di Biciclette), with its non pareil use of non-actors
in the central roles of a father and his son. In fact, the power of this deeply affecting
film is often down to the astonishing verisimilitude produced by De Sica's non-professionals,
and it is a testament to his skill that it is impossible to imagine accomplished film
actors producing better performances. Ironically, the film at one point could have turned
out to be a standard Hollywood product: no less than David O. Selznick suggested that
he would put up the money for the film if De Sica was prepared to use Cary Grant as
the desperate father (the mind boggles at the possible result - marvellous as Grant
is in the work he did for such directors as Hitchcock and Hawks, his casting in Bicycle
Thieves simply doesn't bear thinking about). De Sica built on the achievements of
Shoeshine, with another plot built around an important social issue. Antonio
Ricci has been out of a job for several years, and finally manages to find a position
as a billposter. However, the job is dependent on him owning a bicycle. The theft of
a bicycle for most people would be an inconvenience; for Ricci it is a catastrophe.
The film is basically an odyssey, as Ricci and his son Bruno travel all over Rome in
increasingly desperate attempts to find the stolen bicycle. Ironically, the thief is
found shortly after the duo visit a fortune-teller.
De Sica handles all of this with tremendous assurance, and the life of the poor in Rome
is conveyed with maximum realism. As Ricci is pushed ever closer to the end of his tether,
the scene is set for one of the classic moments in cinema: in desperation, Ricci is forced
to become that most despised of creatures himself - a bicycle thief. His theft of a bicycle
and his almost immediate apprehension by a vengeful crowd is as powerful as anything in
cinema, as is the successive scene involving Ricci's son. Despite the air of improvisation,
De Sica's film is as carefully structured as any Hollywood product, and the organisation
of the crowd scenes is astonishingly adroit. The scene in which Ricci's bicycle is stolen
is handled with the panache one might expect in a more outwardly polished product, but
this is the art that conceals art: De Sica's achievement is to render his technique invisible.
Interestingly, De Sica points up the artificiality of the Hollywood product of the day
by utilising a poster for a Rita Hayworth film during a crucial scene.
André Bazin was one of many critics who hailed the film as a masterpiece, and even claimed
that De Sica used Communist ideology in the film. This isn't quite the case, but there
is no doubting the concern for working people that is at the heart of the film. However,
De Sica has a very different attitude to his workers than that of a contemporary director
of outwardly similar leanings such as Ken Loach. Invariably in Loach's films most working
people are presented as noble, with the authorities invariably as corrupt or foolish. De
Sica has no such schematic illusions, and there is little sympathy between the impoverished
protagonists as they struggle to obtain the few available jobs. In fact, De Sica's film
contains an implicit plea for a change in society's values, which remains as potent as
ever.
DVD special features include a solid documentary on the career of De Sica, along with
some striking poster artwork.
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