By Jason Haskins
You are introduced to Umberto, a lonely and old pensioner living at a cramped boarding house run by a madwoman who certainly does not like Umberto one bit because of his inability to pay his bills on time or otherwise. His only friends are Maria, a pregnant woman who serves as the boarding house's maid, and Flike, his pet dog. As the movie goes along you see the trials and tribulations of a man who's at the end of his very existence wondering why his government is not taking care of him. This echoes certain connotations in the world we live in now and makes the story all the more heartbreaking.
At the center of it all is this man as you see what he goes through in order to pay his next living fee before the landlady kicks him out on his behind. He walks aimlessly through the city trying to get money as well as face other issues like Flike, who runs away, and an illness. This movie is very poignant moment and I viewed it to be one of the most depressing movies I've seen in a while due in no part to the relationship between Flike and Umberto.
This could be one of the first man and his dog stories ever released and it hits the mark on all counts giving us a heartwarming friendship to witness. As sad as this movie is, it's not because of the obvious reasons that us Americans immediately think of. Nothing harmful happens to the dog, but together they face a tremendous moment that was completely unforgettable in my opinion and swayed me to dig this as one of my all time favorite films.
Like a lot of De Sica's work he used non-actors in Umberto D. and I think that it strengthens the impact of the film--much to the same pedigree as Bicycle Thieves. The lead actor who you follow the whole film, Carlo Battisti, is wonderful at capturing a character you never pity despite his circumstances because he is so likeable and sympathetic. The other performances are equally as compelling for the subplot involving Maria and her pregnancy (and relationship) between two different soldiers and the ridiculousness of the landlady played excellently by Lina Gennari.
The one thing that this movie has going for it as far as mainstream (cough, cough, American) audiences should keep in mind is that it's easy to watch and get into. At a slick and solid hour and a half running time, De Sica has no time to waste and as slow and plodding as some moments get, it ultimately pays off by giving a rewarding experience you won't easily forget. The pace is pretty good and while the actual plot itself doesn't have a crazy amount of things going on, the social implications and Umberto himself really make up for it so that you'll have no trouble digging the picture.
It's safe to say I'm now, officially, a die-hard Vittorio De Sica fan. It doesn't really happen too often that I get into a director and dig two things of his in a row, but I'm here to make a believer out of everyone that foreign cinema doesn't necessarily have to be a drag for mainstreamers. Umberto D. is a smart film and one that still has a grip on me. When I originally watched it I was quite fond of it, but the real core of the experience hit me later in the day so much so that I had to re-watch it and full embrace the fact that I was being moved so much. Like Bicycle Thieves, the ending will stay with me forever and all I have to say is that De Sica did an amazing job with his frequent collaborator Cesare Zavattini to give us something that's still palpable and emotional almost sixty years later.
© Jason Haskins, 2011
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