Tuesday, October 10, 2017

1949 Winner, The Bicycle Thief



 The Bicycle Thief

Director:  Vittorio de Sica

Distributed by:  Joseph Burstyn & Arthur Mayer

Released:  December 1949 (in U.S.)

Country:  Italy

One time in seventh grade, finished with basketball practice, I walked out of the gym to the bike rack and found that my Huffy ten-speed had been swiped.  The question I was asked repeatedly, by the cops and by my parents, was whether I had locked the bike.  “Of course!” I insisted, also repeatedly, though I was 99% certain that I hadn’t.  Had anyone pursued the line of questioning, they would have wondered why the bicycle thief had cut the chain, then stole the ruined lock along with the bike. Maybe everyone felt sorry enough for me to just let it go.  In any case, I would have to walk to practice for a while, but life went on, bicycle-less.  The police put the case on ice, and it remains unsolved to this very day.

Father and son during happy times
For Antonio Ricci, the loss of his mode of transportation would have much more dire consequences in 1950’s Best Foreign Film, The Bicycle Thief.  In post-war Italy, the unemployed men wait around for work, hoping to hear their name called by a foreman of some kind, a scene not unlike one that might be found in On the Waterfront or Season Two of The Wire.  Antonio hears his name and rushes to the front of the crowd—the man doling out the job says the gig is for putting up posters all over town.  The one thing you need, though, is a bicycle.  Antonio is in-between bikes at the present, but he can walk.  No bike, no job, barks the foreman. Like I said, Antonio retorts, my bike is in the shop so I’ll get it now.

Really, though, Antonio had hocked his bike to a pawn shop to feed his family.  What to do?  His wife comes up with an idea—we don’t need sheets to sleep on, and we have nice ones.  So they go down and sell the sheets in order to get the bike back.  “Our luck is changing, you’ll see,” assures Antonio.  One doesn’t get the impression that will be the case.

Hey, that's my bike!
So Antonio gets his bike and rides out to do his job.  As he puts up his first poster, a crook comes out of nowhere and rides away with his only mode of transportation and income.  Antonio fails to chase him down, and spends the rest of the movie trying to find the thief and get his bike back. 

Antonio takes his young son Bruno with him, and the two of them do their best so that Antonio can keep his job.  They have a few leads, and make some unfounded accusations, but nothing leads to the reunion with his bike.  In one heartbreaking scene, Antonio takes his frustrations out on Bruno, who seems to idolize his pop.  Antonio, as careless with his son as he was with the bike, will soon discover that the way he reacts to the theft, including how he treats his son, is what he should be worried about more than the theft itself.

Excuse me, sir, did you see my lost bicycle?
The Bicycle Thief is a very simple movie, with no plot twists or surprises.  It is about Man’s inhumanity to Man in times of crisis, but I think it is even more about forgiveness for that inhumanity.  De Sica used non-actors to play out the story, a staple of neorealism, but I don’t think professionals could have elicited more sympathy than Lamberto Maggiorani as Antonio and Enzo Staiola as Bruno do.  There are multiple lessons to be learned: one, be careful who you accuse of wrongdoing; two, don’t let misfortune affect how you treat others; and three, spring for the $15 and invest in a decent bicycle lock—and then, use it!

The Title: Ladri di biciclette.  The Italian title is actually, “Bicycle Thieves,” which I think is the better title, since after the first theft, which is of Antonio’s bike by one goombah, you are left to wonder if there will be more larceny ahead.

The culture:  There are great films about the aftermath of war, including 1939’s Gone with the Wind; Carol Reed’s The Third Man (also from 1949), which shows a broken Vienna; and Kurosawa’s I Live in Fear, about the worry about another Big One being dropped on Japan.  But none is surpassed by The Bicycle Thief in terms of eliciting pathos for the characters and hoping for the best for them.

Agenda danger:  This film has been analyzed and championed by Marxists, capitalists, and the Vatican, with each finding content that supports their views.  What I took away from the movie is how Antonio is essentially a good man, prone to descending into despair, self-pity, and ruthlessness, but also needing to be graced with forgiveness for his own transgressions.    

Tequila!
Best Picture that year:  All The Kings’ Men

Rating:  A classic that should be seen by anyone who likes films.  But if you can’t sit through a foreign film, check out 1985’s Pee-wee's Big Adventure, which is (very) loosely based on The Bicycle Thief.  There’s not as much Italian neo-realism in that film, but on the other hand, it does feature Pee Wee Herman dancing to Tequila.

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

1950 Winner, The Walls of Malapaga



The Walls of Malapaga

Director:  René Clément

Distributed by:  Films International

Released:  March 1950 (in U.S.)

Country:  France/Italy

To this point, beginning with the 2015 Best Foreign Film Son of Saul going backward to 1950, I've been able to locate and watch, either from a library or online, every Best Foreign Film with English subtitles.  1951 winner The Walls of Malapaga is my first fail, as it were.  I looked on Amazon and Overstock and eBay; and I looked on every rare film website and library site I knew of; and I even asked for help on Reddit.  Nothing.

However, my efforts weren’t a complete loss, as good ol’ YouTube has the French film posted . . . but with Portuguese subtitles instead of English.  I don’t speak Portuguese, but I did take five years of French in high school and college, so I know some colors, numbers, swear words, and food words.  I also know how to ask where the swimming pool, beach, and bathroom are—pretty much the essentials if you go abroad.  But past that I’m pretty lost.  Still, my goal has been to watch them all and review them all, so I watched every bit of the 90-minute film, directed by René Clément, who directed the wonderful Best Foreign Film Forbidden Games from two years later.  You’ll have to give me a little slack on this one.  Here goes:

Pierre and Marta
Our story starts with a guy on a ship, and IMDb tells me his name is Pierre.  Pierre gets off and it is apparent he has a toothache because he holds his mouth and utters a “Zut alors” a time or deux while walking down the street.  He gets to the dentist, who seems to fix him up in no time; then he pops into a restaurant and makes eyes at a waitress named Marta (again, thanks, IMDb!).  He can’t pay his bill but they let him go anyway.  It’s about then we realize Pierre is somehow wanted by the law because the cops are after him.  He gets away and eventually spends the night at Marta’s house, where he meets Cecchina, Marta’s young daughter, or else just some random girl that seems to be living with Marta.  Suddenly . . . . a chicken falls out of the ceiling, which leads Pierre to decide to take a nap.  The chicken falls out of the ceiling again, although I am uncertain if it was the same chicken.  I’m positive it is a chicken, by the way, because the word poulet is used several times and I remember that one from high school.  Merci, Pere Petkash!




Cecchina about to smart off
The next morning, Marta walks her daughter to school as a cop follows her.  Next thing you know, the cop is grabbing Marta, but a nun from the school fights him off.  Marta goes back home, where Pierre is, and has an argument with a guy, either a judge or her husband?  The daughter comes in and realizes her mom is hiding Pierre, but plays along.  Mom shows Cecchina a dress she got for her; then the daughter smarts off and mom smacks her across the chops.   The French of 1949 apparently believe in corporal punishment.

So for some reason, despite the cops on Pierre's trail, they are all okay to walk around down by the pier and Marta pops in the restaurant, maybe to get her check?  The policeman is still looking for Pierre and goes into talk to the dentist to see if the dentist can fill him in on his whereabouts.  The policeman goes to the restaurant too, but they pretend or don’t pretend to have no idea where he is.  Meanwhile, Pierre seems to feel free to walk anywhere he wants, so it would seem he’s not really worried about the police all that much. 

In Genoa, this is how we say Shut Up.
At some point, while they are all sitting around at home, the daughter runs away, I guess thinking she’ll rat out Pierre.  Pierre and Marta look for her.  Much to their chagrin, it leads to Pierre getting nabbed by the cops and Marta and her daughter walking away.  Someone shouts, "Pierre!  Pierre!"  Suddenly, out of nowhere a big fat “FINE” is next and that’s the end of that.  Talk about a shock ending.

If there are The Walls of Malapaga fanatics out there that want to disagree with me on my synopsis, I am open to it, but I have to tell you, I know that was a chicken falling out the ceiling that I saw.  It was suggested that I look to Wikipedia or other websites to get a better handle on what happened, but the pickings were slim online.  Wikipedia’s total summary goes like this:  “[Jean] Gabin is a French criminal, Pierre Arrignon, on the run who finds himself in Genoa, Italy, and falls in love with a local girl, Marta Manfredini (played by Isa Miranda). The film is set in Italy but the dialogue is primarily in French.”  Zut!  No spoilers in that summary.

The film's startling conclusion
The Title: Au-delà des grilles, or Beyond the Gates.  Urbandictionary.com says a “malapaga” is someone who owes money or is a bad credit risk.  So it would stand to reason that Pierre is caught in the end for owing people money, especially given his track record of not paying for his food at the restaurant.

The culture:  What I knew about Genoa before this movie was that Christopher Columbus was born here and that’s pretty much it.  Now I know they have defensive walls around the city and that some people keep their chickens in the ceiling.

Agenda danger:  “Crime does not pay” isn’t really a bad message, except that all I know Pierre did wrong is to be delinquent in not paying for his meal and possibly for some dental work.

Best Picture that year:  All About Eve

Rating:  I guess “Incomplete” is the best grade I can give this one, but I can again recommend Clément's earlier film, Forbidden Games.