CHUD.com Community › Forums › SPECIFIC FILMS › Foreign Films & Wishful Thinking › Umberto D: CHUD foreign film discussion
New Posts  All Forums:Forum Nav:

Umberto D: CHUD foreign film discussion

post #1 of 14
Thread Starter 
Alright so this is the first entry in the CHUD foreign film discussion group. It's going to be a test run, to see if we can actually manage to discuss a "foreign" film for most of us. Time limit is a month so ironically this discussion is open until 4/20 of this year. Please by all means participate if you have an opinion. Film shouldn't be too hard to find for those interested.

I actually just finished this moments ago, and still trying to compose myself here. It's neo-realism at its finest, and it amazes me how De Sica managed to get such performances out of non-actors in not only this film but in Bicycle Thieves as well.

One thing I'd like to touch on is the way the city looked back in those days, compared to now if you were to go into Rome today. There's great footage of (I think) The Pantheon, with very few people walking by (all Italians), with no tourists, no glitz and glamour, etc. To do that today you would need a boat load of money. The streets themselves look so staunchly different then even from Italian films made years later by Fellini and Visconti, and just help to add to the effect of hopelessness that embodies Carlo Battisti's Umberto Domenico Ferrari.

On that note, this was Carlo Battisti's only acting role, though he looks like a seasoned veteran out there. My guess is, though Battisti was according to IMDB a professor by profession, that he had grown accustomed to see the people in Italy/Rome that were just like Umberto D. He had obviously lived through World War II Italy, and naturally had seen the high level of unemployment, poverty, and poor plans for those who had worked hard all their lives.

The relationship between him and Flike, his dog, is something special. He cares more about his dog than anything else in the world, and aside from petty, curious kindness on the part of Maria, Flike is really the only thing that cares about him, at all. Umberto knows people in better standing than him, but because (and I think this was implied) he had worked for or with them for so long, he's too proud to ask for money. He implies it in one case, but doesn't actually ask for it outright. He also will not beg for it. He almost does, but he ends up putting his hat in his dog's mouth so that he would not have to "lower" himself, so to speak.

The train sequence is something else too. It's real, the dog was really immensely scared and I believe Battisti actually stood there and watch it go close by him. The ending is shattering, and I'll admit the waterworks were going there for a little while, but that's to be expected. I haven't met anyone who hasn't had strong, emotional feelings for this film, and I was no exception.

Really looking forward to hearing everyone's opinion.
post #2 of 14
EDIT: Deleted.
post #3 of 14
Incredible movie. As much people love Ikiru, which deals with similar material, I vastly prefer this movie. I'm not sure why but this just affects me so much more.

Aside from the classic scenes like the search for Flike at the pound and the amazing ending, the one scene that really struck me was the long, patient look at the ritual the housemaid performs. Just the small details and the fact that we take a break from the main plot just to watch this girl do her work really made it clear what neo-realism was about.

A couple nice essays from Criterion:
http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/967
http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/292
post #4 of 14
Carlo Battisi is a revelation onto himself.

But, the train sequence is real horror captured on film. There's something to be said for that moment, as it played into what would become a normalcy with Italian Neo-Realism following the end of World War II.


You kind of got a similar sense of terror in "Paisan", but it never felt directed. It was always obscured or seen through some other means. When Flike freaks out, it's honest and real. The train is positioned roughly four feet away from the main actors.

You couldn't even do that today without some variation of the ASPCA crapping themselves.
post #5 of 14
Thread Starter 
Quote:
Originally Posted by Nicholas View Post
Incredible movie. As much people love Ikiru, which deals with similar material, I vastly prefer this movie. I'm not sure why but this just affects me so much more.

Aside from the classic scenes like the search for Flike at the pound and the amazing ending, the one scene that really struck me was the long, patient look at the ritual the housemaid performs. Just the small details and the fact that we take a break from the main plot just to watch this girl do her work really made it clear what neo-realism was about.

A couple nice essays from Criterion:
http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/967
http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/292
Excellent observations, both with the Ikiru comparison, and the scene with the maid. I had forgotten about it, and had to go back and see it again. I said it before but I'll say it again, the sheer destitution and lack of fanfare in Rome absolutely blew me away. I guess I didn't notice it as much in Bicycle Thieves. Both of those essays are great too.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Anderson View Post
Carlo Battisi is a revelation onto himself.

But, the train sequence is real horror captured on film. There's something to be said for that moment, as it played into what would become a normalcy with Italian Neo-Realism following the end of World War II.


You kind of got a similar sense of terror in "Paisan", but it never felt directed. It was always obscured or seen through some other means. When Flike freaks out, it's honest and real. The train is positioned roughly four feet away from the main actors.

You couldn't even do that today without some variation of the ASPCA crapping themselves.
Exactly. No way a film like this could have been made in Hollywood during this time, or any time, for that, at least not with the actual reality taking place. I haven't seen anything American like this, ever. I don't know how De Sica did it, but I've heard his methods were pretty damn "real", if I may. Like putting out a cigarette on Enzo Staiola's (the child, Bruno, in Bicycle Thieves) hand and warning him sternly not to cry in order to illicit just the right reaction out of him. He was fine, but there would be lawsuits and abuse charges had that been filmed today.
post #6 of 14
EDIT: Deleted.
post #7 of 14
Thread Starter 
Man this is a discussion thread for Umberto D. Feel free to make posts about this film elsewhere. Hell, by all means do, there isn't much activity in the foreign film section but limit posts here to Umberto D., please.
post #8 of 14
Just finished this, and I guess that I'll add these few points:

Anderson mentioned the horror present in the train scene, but I read it much differently, similar to how I read the thematic "through line" of "The Bicycle Thief. For the record, though, I've only seen two of De Sica's films, "Umberto D." and "The Bicycle Thief," so I'll be referring to Umberto's more popular cousin a fair amount. The thing that I really appreciate about both films is that they provide no easy answers regarding what the "right thing" is. Many of us, myself included, see suicide as a weak action, something motivated by despair. Watching Umberto go through his motions, though, it's awfully hard to judge him, just like it's hard to judge the father's decision to steal that bike at the climax of "The Bicycle Thief."

I think this is made doubly clear by Maria's comment to Umberto towards the end of the film: "Wherever you can go is better than here." Very simple, but I think that moment has quite a thematic weight behind it, and by the time the film ends, you really are left wondering if Umberto really will be better off.

Of course, "Umberto D." isn't all darkness. If anything, the film picks up on "The Bicycle Thief's" main theme: What you love will save you. If these films are the depiction of the despair that springs from poverty, they are also depictions of salvation, in a way.

Like I said earlier, though, it's not that simple. Lots of fruit abounds in this movie: How are we supposed to view money in this film? Is despair really something that we can fully escape, and is love enough to save us from it?

A rich, great film to say the least.
post #9 of 14
Yeah, I wouldn't call "Umberto D" a dark film.

It's just that it examines the horror in the daily life. There are terrifying moments that we all encounter and they rarely get portrayed onscreen. Honest portrayals of our breaking moments not taken to the Nth degree are rare. That's why I appreciated what Umberto D did here.
post #10 of 14
It's odd because the Bicycle Thieves is one of those films I had a tremendous amount of respect for, but could never connect with on an emotional level, but Umberto D really got to me whilst watching it. Like Anderson said it's not a dark film, but there's certainly something bleak and harsh about it.

It actually feels really ahead of its time, oddly the film I kept thinking about whilst watching it was City of God, to me due to the way it represents its main character and its general naturalism. The power of that train sequence is due to the naturalism, the real terror of the predicament, and it makes the film feel really timeless. But what really makes the film for me is the idea of definition and context that runs through it, it's not just a film about squalor and misery and loneliness it's a film about how people attempt to present themselves to not only others but to themselves.
post #11 of 14
I'll be honest, I don't really have a deep appreciation for neo-realism, it's an influential movement in cinema certainly but it does nothing for me, seeing Umberto D both changes that perspective but not by much, compared to other films of this genre, it was very well filmed, Umberto D has a very elegant look mixed in with the realism, there are some beautiful shots in this film, the final scene in the park, Umberto walking the streets etc

Carlo Battisti really is the heart and soul of this film, he gives a very moving performance, the end scene with Flike truly is heartbreaking but it didn't make me bust out in tears, just made me depressed.

That said, it's not a film that I find the need to revisit straight away, if ever, I thought it was a well made film but it didn't hit me as hard as some others here.
post #12 of 14
Neo-realism was a new term to me when this little thing started, and I'm still not too clear on it. I'm always kind of hazy when it comes to identifying as something as belonging to a specific "school" of art. If it's good or bad, a given film (or any other work of art) will stand on its own merits. That said, understanding that sort of thing does give a certain "in" to the subtleties of a film's language. So, I may as well throw this question out there: for those better versed in Italian neo-realism, how does your understanding of it inform your reading of Umberto D?

I don't have any such knowledge, and my interpretation hinges on a literary understanding of the film. Umberto D really made me think of Rousseau, for example. Especially the scene where he offers to give Flike away, and the grown ups at the park assume that the dog must be worthless. It's much the same with Umberto himself, come to think of it. He carries himself with a certain richness of dignity in an attempt to show off some sort of value, but once it is known that he is a poor pensioner, all bets are off. It's implied that he has a past with the landlady (he says something about helping her out during the war, I think), and he's proved himself to be trustworthy and good. She still wants him out so that her wealthy fiancée can move in, though. The other woman in Umberto's life seems to call to mind a different, and maybe truer set of values (and maybe a little more naive, as well). The maid of the house wants him to stick around precisely because he is good, and that is, in some sense, "worth it."

I think this reading gels with the more horrific aspects of the movie. The horrific experience doesn't just belong to poor Umberto, driven to despair, but also to the world around him that drives him there.

Thoughts?

Finally, I just wanted to add that some of the camera work very early on in the film, particularly the POV shot of the jeep going through the crowd of pensioners, was pretty stunning.
post #13 of 14
My understanding of 'Neo-realism' is that the stories mainly focus on real people, usually working class who struggle to little to no avail. Umberto fits the ideal perfectly, he's a man who's lost almost everything except the love of his dog, Flike, everyone around him seems to either look at him with pity or contempt (his landlady and her friends)
post #14 of 14
Sorry I got to this so late. I have been very busy in my personal life and going thru some monetary struggles. I wasn't eager to visit a film with the bleakness of Umberto D. I echo everyone's praise of Carlo Battisti--he was just so realistic and impressive in his scenes with Filke and Maria. The landlady had me wanting to run her over with a train instead of Umberto almost doing this. The last 20 minutes had me in constant tears and my relief was palpable when he didn't jump in front of that train. I don't know where he went from there --but at least he has the love of his dog.
New Posts  All Forums:Forum Nav:
  Return Home
CHUD.com Community › Forums › SPECIFIC FILMS › Foreign Films & Wishful Thinking › Umberto D: CHUD foreign film discussion