MUBI

As a film about a man and his dog, this could be the best ever made. It never really finds its balance between pathos and comedy, and maybe it doesn’t need to? The use of non-actors seems to result in many unintentionally awkward moments, so casting- and directing-wise this one isn’t nearly as impressive as The Bicycle Thieves.

Still, a strangely powerful film, and, as it is customary to say, has held up well over time. (At least better than the fairytale-like Miracle in Milan that was made the year before.)

Umberto Domenico Ferrari is a pathetic man. People just don’t like him. They avoid him. They try and screw him over. Maybe its him. He tells the one person who is good to him – his landlady’s maid – that he’ll get one of the men who might be her baby’s father to take responsibility, but he’s too cowardly (or self-centered) to do so.

For full disclosure I have to admit that I didn’t think much of The Bicycle Thief. Since its a classic of international cinema, I guess that makes me a philistine. The films of de Sica (and Cesare Zavattini) always have subtle writing and fine acting. But they don’t speak to me. On a gut level they seem empty because there’s no driving narrative.

The post-fascists and communists in Italy condemned this film as a critique on the Italian social net. They right thought it was unfair and the left thought it wasn’t a strong enough condemnation. But I think what the film was getting at is that no matter whether a person is likable or not, everyone still has a right to be happy. I agree with that sentiment. I just think the telling in Umberto D wasn’t very engaging.

So I pop in the Criterion Collection DVD and people are saying how it’s so fucking touching and sad, and how it’s one of the best Italian Neorealism movies ever created. Well…..let’s see!

Okay okay I fucking CRIED alright! You didn’t? You mean to tell me you don’t have a fucking HEART you cold pathetic piece of shit! You see I work with the elderly and seniors. And honestly it’s like their second childhood, and interacting with them is sometimes like talking to kids. And to see Umberto broke as fuck, trying to make ends meet and feed his dog Flike wasn’t easy to watch. Maybe it’s the poetry in the language of cinema that made me appreciate the emotions in this film. I mean I don’t even know what it’s like to own a dog but I teared up when he’s longing to search for Flike in the dog pound scene.

Not to mention the ending….beautiful, realistic, life affirming, touching, magnificent, the innocence of children, playing with pets.

Invite all your close friends to your house and screen UMBERTO D to them. And take note of the people who are moved to tears, these are the friends who understand loneliness, hope, and uncondtional love for another person and pet. Then HUG THEM RIGHT AFTER!

10 out of 10

Neorealism at it’s GREATEST.

Director Vittorio De Sica and screenwriter Cesare Zavattini, show again their good sense and total mastery over pathos. Characters of exemplary moral standards who find themselves unjustly trapped inside a somber existence, condemned to indifference and oblivion.
It’s been quite a long time since I saw a film so beautiful, involving and heartbreaking. I’m not embarrassed to say I broke in tears at the finale. What a splendid achievement.

Umberto D. is, quite possibly, one of the saddest films ever made. Vittorio de Sica orchestrates this melancholy character study with emotion and precision, creating an impacting piece of film that will forever be ingrained in your memory.

Like The Bicycle Thieves, Umberto D. is Italian neo-realism at its best. Once again de Sica uses the tactic of hiring unknown people to act in his films, to give them more of a realistic feeling. No star-studded Italian celebrities here, just a bunch of people de Sica practically picked off of the street. We see post-WWll Rome as it is, no sets. Everything you see in this film is real, which helps to give Italian neo-realism that special raw feeling you get from watching one of the pictures from this movement.

This is a very depressing film. It follows Umberto Domenico Ferrari, along with his canine companion, Flike, as he tries to gather enough lire to pay off his back rent in the flat he stays in. He is on a state-pension plan hat barely helps to keep him alive. Olga, a malicious and self-centered landlady, wants to shoo the old man off her property as fast as possible. She never gives us an explanation why, but we can assume that he’s just cramping her style and possibly making her look bad to her middle-class friends. Umberto is a man built on tradition and respect. He refuses to leave his flat and look for a new place to stay, yet, at the same time, he feels that he has enough self respect to ask his wealthier friends for money. There are multiple parts in the film where we see other beggars sticking there hats out to everybody within arms length, and Umberto finally decides that maybe he has to go the same route. He finds out that he doesn’t have it in him, so he hands his hat to his dog, Flike, while he hides behind a pillar.

Ambiguity runs high throughout Umberto D. There is an instance where we see Maria, Olga’s pregnant maid, wake up in the middle of the night, puts a hand to her stomach and cries. She grinds herself a cup of coffee, haphazardly gazing around the kitchen, until her eyes land on a cat that is shown scampering across the overhead window. The cat goes out of frame and Maria continues her business, when she looks out the kitchen window and spots the same cat crossing across the rooftops. What is the significance of this scene? Is it to show that life still goes on, even in the crappiest of conditions? A furry beacon of light?

This is echoed towards the end of the film where Umberto, realizing that he has no place in life, tries to end it by standing in front of an oncoming train, Flike wrapped up in his arms. The dog escapes and what we see is probably one of the greatest shots in the entire film, a medium shot of Umberto throwing up his arms as the train goes gliding by, billows of dust shooting up around him. Umberto chases after Flike into a park, and the two play around for a while, which makes Umberto realize that he does have a purpose to go on living, and it’s to take care of his best friend. De Sica presents a depressing film, but a film that has small glimmers of hope bespectacled throughout, especially at the end. A classic.

(Saturday, June 27, 2009 3:10 pm)

Life is short and difficult, but if you are happy, you’ve got it all. That’s how I view this masterwork from Vittorio De Sica. Life will eventually struggle some time in our lives, everyone must have a companion in order for us to go on. Umberto D. only had Flike, his dog, his only comrade. Though he struggled, Umberto still tried to connect with his partner. Emotionally suffered by his actions towards everyone who obstructs him, the only way he can get away was to let go. To leave everything he’s got, and might risk a life. Life that was too precious during that time, where a companion was very needed. Umberto and Flike lived, together. 9/10. A masterpiece of reality.