As I saw this movie, I needed a little time to put
myself together. Immediately I thrusted it in the category of those films that
I will never see for the second time. De Sica did a good job. He left me
speechless.
I’ll start the analysis from the last scene. The
scene where father and son catching by hands disappear into the crowd. Into that poor crowd. They
get absorbed from the stomach they were born. Bruno cries. Antonio seems like he’s
walking on air. Father’s myth is broken in the face of his son. Yet, they don’t
detach their hands from each other. This
was De Sica’s tribute to Chaplin. Un buon lavoro ;)
The relationship between Antonio and Bruno muffles
the film with a strong emotional veil.
Both were amateur actors. De Sica selected Antonio (a tall man, charming, con braccia
forti) in an audition where he had brought his son to compete. Antonio at that
time was a factory worker. Bruno was found occasionally while helping his father sell flowers in the
streets of Rome.
Here consists the magic. That’s the reason why this film
affected those guys of Academy Awards and made them establish a specific
category “Honorary Award” in respect of this film.
Any time there is mentioned neo-realism as cinematic
genre , immediately you think of "Ladri di Biciclette". Because this
film is the culmination top of this category. Estimated and reestimated
thousand times as such a film.
Neo-realism was cultivated not for a very long period of time, mostly by
Italian cineasts. These cineasts were noted for an extreme truthfully
reflection of that time situation, in a world that had just emerged from the
Second World War and was not yet recovered. But I will not linger on these
facts that you can read quite well in Wikipedia.
There is a general belief (at least from what I've
read) that these films come closer to documentary film than to the artistic one.
This finding may seem fair because of the fact that almost all the scenes were
filmed in open environments, supporting actors were passers, all were amateur actors,
natural lighting...etc,etc. A very crude material. Very similar to that of a
documentary.
The question that naturally arises inside my mind
is:
If "Ladri di Biciclette" is almost a
documentary reflecting the events of that time, then why I can’t get it out of
my head?
I've seen dozens of Luce documentaries for the same historic
period. At their very best, they make me have any of those political-philosophical
long conversations with my friends.
But "Ladri di Biciclette" doesn’t
make me start any of those boring conversations. It makes me silent. It makes
me bite my lips in order to stop the tears.... Here is art. Because art is like
an ax that break the ice into your soul. At least, this is Franz Kafka’s opinion
about art. And he is not wrong at all.
Antonio’s simplicity, in all those improvised actions,
passes us much more drama than just the
drama of a poor man of his time. He gives us the drama of a powerless father
and husband against the cruel occasional circumstances, inevitable not only in the
time where he lives in, but in any system that mankind has produced at any
time.
The moment where father and son visite the seer and
Antonio speaks her softly telling that someone stole his bike, saying this
phrase like this is the biggest trouble in his life, makes you laugh and cry at
the same time.
A bicycle. A modest thing on two wheels. Someone
steals it from you on a beautiful sunny day. And then what? A bike? Is it logical
for a man to mortify himself for a bicycle?
No. It’s not the bicycle as an object that pushes Antonio
to steal and then being denigrated in the face of his son. But the bike is a
necessary condition for Antonio to start working. It was a clear fact to him since
the beginning of the film. No bike, no work. Well...Maria, Bruno and baby don’t
need only cuddles. Among the other stuff... they want to eat.
To think...that Maria carefully assembled one by one
all the white sheets she had at home, so that selling them in exchange for the bicycle. Sheets ended up in a large pile
of hopeless clothes... Ah, poor
Antonio!!! They take his soul away when they steal his bike. They derogate his future.
 |
| Vittorio De Sica |
De Sica himself was born in a poor family. Knowing
well the sense of being hopeless owing to poverty in a pseudovalues system, De
Sica, so masterly, characterizes this situation on this film.
Poverty becomes more visible into the Roman background,
with all those magnificent masterpieces of art. Art, culture, knowledge ; poverty,
filth, rascality ... that coexist separately. Rome ... without former Glory.
...And above all these, lies that noble father and
son relationship. Sublime. Perfect. Nothing can break it. Nothing can divide
them. A relationship that appears to violate the dregs of filth and poverty and
rise above. This relationship makes Antonio’s drama even sharper in front of us. And unlike
a documentary film (with little or no art inside) it makes me cry.
...And please do never forget:
Art (regardless of genre, time, place) is eternal
...by Led Kasapi
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