1952: Umberto D
Umberto D (de Sica, 1952) 7/10
Underneath the sharp white tinted opening credits of Vittorio de Sica's 1952 neo-realist film Umberto D lies the political and socially conscientious springboard for the genre's penultimate investigation into the destitution of marginalized socio-political classes.
As one's eyes become more attuned to the Roman cobble roads below, one notices the expanding crowd of black-suited figures traversing the screen from top to bottom in a single file. The surprising composition of this group is they are not soldiers or irate youth, but elderly men: former civil servants demanding a pay rise in their pension.
One of those men is Umberto D. Ferrari (Carlo Battisti), an irascible retired civil servant who has worked for the Ministry of Public Works for thirty years, but now struggles to make ends meet on his pitiful income. Living in an ant-infested apartment with his solitary companion, a dog named Flike, Umberto is desperate to raise 15,000 lira in order to escape eviction from his filthy abode. In order to pay off his debts, Umberto must decide whether to live or die: since his pension will provide him barely with enough sustinence.
Scripted by famed neo-realist screenwriter Cesare Zavattini, who also co-wrote other de Sica films include The Children Are Watching Us, Miracle in Milan and Bicycle Thieves, Umberto D is a classic neo-realist analysis of bourgeois capitalism's dehumanizing effects on ordinary people. Utilizing the genre's Christan-Marxist framework, de Sica and Zavattini employ former civil servant Umberto as an archetypal representation of the failure of the state to care for its citizens.
After devoting over half of his life to the betterment of others, Umberto now struggles to obtain assistance from others in order to survive in postwar Italy. The first time we encounter Umberto is during the film's opening political rally, which is closed down by police authorities due to the organization's failure to obtain a permit. Ironically, Umberto's anger is not centered at the state police, but the leftist organizers of the protest for their failure to garner a license. With no family or friends beyond a few passing acquaintances, Umberto still has faith in the government to look after him: a trust tested by his increasing poverty.
But while Umberto yearns for a raise to pay off his debts, his former colleagues simply want the money for material purposes. Residing in a ramshackle apartment with Flike, Umberto's only human friend is the apartment building's pregnant teenage maid Maria (Maria Pia Casilio). To the old-fashioned Umberto's astonishment, Maria is unsure of who exactly is the father of her child since she routinely entertains two soldiers from either end of the country: both of whom deny impregnating her. But Umberto's concern for Maria is more didactic than moral, as he impresses to her the importance of education to avoid being taken advantage of by others in future.
Like Umberto, Maria is a dehumanized figure. Although she is employed for the entire apartment block, Umberto's landlady (Lina Gennari) essentially uses Maria for her personal needs. A part-time opera singer, Umberto's anonymous landlady is presented as a characterization of the spiritual debasement of the bourgeosie. While the apartment building is infested with insects, her apartment is filled with lavish material possessions.
Courting the owner of a local cinema, she routinely entertains her loud cultured friends into the wee hours of the morning, while Umberto tries to sleep in his drafty room. Yet, despite her fondness of haute coutre in her fashion and artistic tastes, she also engages in less salivating practices. When Umberto returns from the rally, he is distraught to find out that his landlady has expropriated his room for the sexual pleasure of her friends. Furthermore, despite his bouts with illness, the landlady is unwilling to grant Umberto any extensions to repay his debts, as she intends to evict him in order to transform his room into a parlour to expand her evening soirees.
Desperate to avoid eviction, Umberto resorts to activities which he finds demeaning and embarassing. His pride is dented as he resorts to eating at a mission for the homeless, where he tries to sell his prized gold watch; and excerbates a bout of toncillitis to extend his stay at a hospital in order to avoid paying for his meals. This descent into poverty reaches its zenith when he begrudingly tries begging, only to be unable to engage in this approach. Such is his depression that Umberto even contemplates suicide as this once proud civil servant is abandoned by his former colleagues and employer.
In keeping with the neo-realist aesthetic, de Sica employed a non-professional actor in Carlo Battasti to play Umberto: a method which imbues heavy doses of authenticity into the performance. Not that the film can escape the genre's requisite doses of sentimentality, with Flike replacing a small child as the source of the film's more syrupy emotions. However, when Umberto loses Flike and searches the streets of Rome for his only companion, de Sica is able to create a highly emotive setting, which typifies the downcast nature of Umberto D.
Despite the film's bright sophisticated feel, de Sica's film contextual approach is filled with sadness and pity. When de Sica gazes upon his characters such as the scene in which he examines Maria's morning routine, we see the ordinary nature of his characters, but also the unnecessary misfortune they have suffered at the hands of others. Interestingly, when Umberto visits the religious orders at the hospital, it is inferred that he has little association to religion in his hackneyed attempt at prayer. While Umberto has substituted religion for politics, we see a character who is too proud to even ask God for assistance; but rather resorts to base tactics in order to survive. Because of this Umberto D never comes across as overly heavy-handed despite its often clichéd mannerisms. Instead de Sica inflects an air of disenchantment in capitalist society in his unfiltered characterizations of people yearning to survive in an inhostile and socially unresponsive world.
* Umberto D is available through Criterion Home Video on R1 DVD and Nouveaux on R2
Other Vittorio de Sica Films Reviewed:
The Children Are Watching Us (1944) 8/10
Copyright 2007 8½ Cinematheqe
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