The Bicycle Thief

The Bicycle Thief

Vittoria De Sica’s exploration of what an ordinary person must do to survive modern society is one of the landmark examples of neorealist cinema.

Facebook
Twitter
Email
Flipboard
Pocket

Vittoria De Sica’s exploration of what an ordinary person must do to survive modern society is one of the landmark examples of neorealist cinema.

Vittorio Do Sica’s The Bicycle Thief is a likable bit of pathos, not very originally conceived or executed, about a poor bill-poster whose bicycle is stolen. Accompanied by his son, he wanders through nearly every street in Rome trying unsuccessfully to get it back. The pace and the lighting turn The Bicycle Thief into a gently melancholic series of strolls in gray weather rather than a frantic search. Even when the hero runs after someone or pursues the thief in an automobile, the picture still seems to be strolling with the unhopeful, limitless leisure of the unemployed it depicts.

De Sica trios for realism by using nearly all non-professional actors and doing his shooting in the streets. Since he doesn’t concentrate on significant detail or get his players sufficiently loosened up to be natural, the film, except for its feel of poverty, comes out as somewhat less realistic than the average studio movie. However, The Bicycle Thief does have a certain ramshackle simplicity, quietness, and even naivete that are not unwelcome as a change from the stunning noise, ingenuity, and sophistication of Hollywood.

Among Hollywood’s most impressive recent efforts are three which deal, in timely fashion, with one of the major themes of the first half of the twentieth century—the failure of the charismatic personality. Young Man with a Horn, All the King’s Men, and Give Us This Day are remarkably similar in the seriousness and even the morbidity with which they treat, respectively, the haunted artist, politician, and worker. All three are based on novels of merit and manage to give them cinematic immediacy without debasing them excessively.

We cannot back down

We now confront a second Trump presidency.

There’s not a moment to lose. We must harness our fears, our grief, and yes, our anger, to resist the dangerous policies Donald Trump will unleash on our country. We rededicate ourselves to our role as journalists and writers of principle and conscience.

Today, we also steel ourselves for the fight ahead. It will demand a fearless spirit, an informed mind, wise analysis, and humane resistance. We face the enactment of Project 2025, a far-right supreme court, political authoritarianism, increasing inequality and record homelessness, a looming climate crisis, and conflicts abroad. The Nation will expose and propose, nurture investigative reporting, and stand together as a community to keep hope and possibility alive. The Nation’s work will continue—as it has in good and not-so-good times—to develop alternative ideas and visions, to deepen our mission of truth-telling and deep reporting, and to further solidarity in a nation divided.

Armed with a remarkable 160 years of bold, independent journalism, our mandate today remains the same as when abolitionists first founded The Nation—to uphold the principles of democracy and freedom, serve as a beacon through the darkest days of resistance, and to envision and struggle for a brighter future.

The day is dark, the forces arrayed are tenacious, but as the late Nation editorial board member Toni Morrison wrote “No! This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.”

I urge you to stand with The Nation and donate today.

Onwards,

Katrina vanden Heuvel
Editorial Director and Publisher, The Nation

Ad Policy
x