Bicycle Thieves - framing the nuance of despair

It's difficult to sit through a watch of Bicycle Thieves. I would like to issue an open challenge to anybody who can watch it without feeling unusually fatigued by unsubtle bouts of pity, regret, and despair. There are scenes in the movie that make you put your hand on your mouth and sit back in silence, as you absorb the undiluted essence of De Sica's beautifully orchestrated point: life is pain.

It is infinitely easy for me to push the pause button on my life and bide my profligate time in this pursuit, just as it is infinitely difficult for me to stop writing, walk out of my room, and do something worthwhile. For his entire career, the thesis of Vittorio De Sica's work has been the notion that it takes courage to be; to exist, requires but sacrifice and the courage to undertake it, however paid in kind only, by fateful consequence.

Forgive my tendency to be unnecessarily romantic about film, it's an old habit. Nonetheless, art as real and wrenching as Bicycle Thieves inspires something actionable in any conscience, and it is of utmost import to society to understand both why and how that it is. That process is what defines, and in senses, amplifies the value of the art. Essential to this cycle, is deciding where to start analysing, so why don't we try the beginning?

Is this a good time to mention I can't ride a bicycle?

Bicycle Thieves begins in the backdrop of post-war Italy, where the working-class is just starting to evaluate the extent of the socioeconomic impact the war has had on them, having firsthand experienced hunger, unemployment, oppression, injustice, and desperation. Poverty, as you and I will never truly know, bathes every aspect of the lives of these people.

Characterising these stories and characters effectively, pronounced the creation of Italian neorealism. Born as open protest to the unforgiving censorship rules of art and free speech during the Mussolini regime, this artistic style helped define for decades to come, what truth was supposed to feel like. Up until then, the mainstream Italian film industry had been involved in producing either imitations of the 1930s and 1940s American comedies (the first talkies), or dramatic tales of theatrical proportions, adapted from classical literary media. But for a society grappling with the drastic loss of its naive innocence, here was their response.

Facets of neorealism were formalised over many films, but they're in the spotlight prominently throughout De Sica's work: filming on location, non-professional actors, working-class stories driven by characters undergoing untempered strife. As character dramas go, there are few works that have dared to explore the triviality of human existence, and the struggle of everyday life, as honestly as this film.

Barso re, megha megha

The question that dominates every frame of Bicycle Thieves, put simply, is what would despair make you do? For our protagonist, Antonio Ricci, a father and a husband who just wants to provide for his family, the answer to this question may turn out to be hauntingly stark. And yet, as the audience approaches the inevitable realisation on what follows at every turn of this story, it is difficult to look away, and perhaps in that lies the film's beauty.

The title of the movie doesn't leave much to suspense: indeed, a bicycle is stolen. A bicycle belonging to Antonio. A bicycle for which his family sacrificed their comfort. A bicycle by which Antonio would be able to toil away to feed his family. A bicycle that when taken from Antonio, initiates a desperate quest in the hopes of its retrieval. Such a simple thing to you and I, a bicycle; but to our protagonist, it is everything.

The majority of the film's narrative revolves around Antonio setting out with his young son, Bruno, in search for the eponymous 'Bicycle Thief'. Whether or not this thief is found, remains for you to be seen. But the existence and discovery of this thief, is a far tamer issue compared to the striking realisation one has in true cognition of the narrative: it is only but natural that the bicycle would be stolen. The film guides both the naive audience and society, towards the unadulterated reality of poverty, where one reconciles despair with an abandonment of moral values without a second's thought (an idea first proposed by German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche in Thus Spoke Zarathustra).

De Sica makes no effort to shy away from the allegory within his narrative to a larger philosophical assertion. Evident for everyone to see, our protagonist attempts to retain his naive innocence for all 89 minutes of the film. But in this new world, there is no place for good people. There is no place for faith, nor virtue, or decency. The things that define humanity are purported to be absent for the ones that need it the most. A dangerous truth.

Life is just a series of folded hands and distant gazes into the desolate unknown - Me (I can't write)

To talk about the technical aspects of a film that inspired the body of work of Satyajit Ray, yeah, I think I won't bother to try. I'd rather tell you some things I found deeply interesting that you might too. Monotone colour gradients, or 'black-and-white' filmmaking is not a thing of the past, and definitely not deserving of triviality or ignorance. This technique has had a resurgence in filmmaking, and deservedly so. Bicycle Thieves in colour, is just not the same film as that which we have today, and it is made better that way.

Dramatic expression and the individuals that practice it well deserve the merit and praise that is often directed at them. But I promise you, not one modern actor or actress will come even within an inch of the brutally beautiful portrayals of Antonio, Bruno, and Maria Ricci, respectively played by Lamberto Maggiorani, Enzo Staiola, and Lianella Carell. It is a shame that neither Lamberto (who was a factory worker and bricklayer) or Enzo (who went on to become a mathematics teacher) were reciprocated by the deserved fame or adulation for their work on the film, during their lifetime.

The final shot of a movie or a book is one that often sticks. It is an important call, deciding what that last frame will be, that people will have to try hard to forget. With Bicycle Thieves, I don't think one can ever remove it. When I think about the depths of the meaning of this film, and reflect on the subconscious ways it possibly affected my life, I can envision the final shot clear as day. In true De Sica fashion, it encapsulates the simplicity of the narrative and journey of our protagonists in the technique and framing of the shot, and somehow suffices to be infinitely moving.