Italian Neorealism was a film movement that ran roughly from 1943 to 1952, but it’s influence carries on today. Italian Neorealism is easily recognizable by its characteristics – a focus on the poor and working class, filmed with non-actors, and filmed on location instead of in a studio. Except for maybe the use of non-actors, those traits are incredibly common these days, and it’s hard to imagine that they were practically unheard of prior to the Neorealist movement. That influence carried over to the French New Wave, Indian cinema, Iranian cinema, Cinema Verite documentary filmmaking, and even American cinema from the 1970s to now (we have Italian Neorealism to thank for both Martin Scorsese’s Mean Streets and Ice Cube’s Friday). What’s funny is that this film movement was so influential to the rest of the world, but not only was it not well-received in Italy, but the Neorealist filmmakers couldn’t agree on what the value of the movement was. Because of this, 1948’s Bicycle Thieves is considered the quintessential example of Italian Neorealism around the world, and is generally criticized by the other Italian Neorealists.

Bicycle Thieves is a movie where bad things keep happening to good people, and therefore, a movie I can’t get my wife to watch with me. In Rome, just after World War II, a man named Antonio is struggling to find work to provide for his wife and two children. When he does find a job putting up ad posters throughout the city, a bicycle is required to accomplish each day’s task in time, and Antonio has already pawned his off. His wife, Maria, offers the last of their valuables, her bedsheets, in exchange for the pawned bike. The next day, Antonio gets right to work, but while he is on a ladder putting up a poster, his bike is stolen. Antonio is unable to catch the thief on foot. He files a police report, but there is very little the police can do, so Antonio and his son, Bruno, search the city for the thief. Eventually, they do find him, but it’s in the thief’s home turf, and so while Antonio publicly accuses the man for stealing his bike, the man (maybe) fakes a seizure (it could be genuine, but come on, it’s pretty convenient timing) and everyone looking on at the spectacle blame Antonio for what happens. Dejected, Antonio and Bruno head towards home, but as they pass a football stadium, Antonio sees a bike just laying against the wall, ripe for the taking. He tells Bruno to go wait at the bust stop, and goes after the bike. Of course, when he takes a bike, the police and an angry mob are right there to grab him. As they carry him to the police station, Bruno watches from a safe distance and begins to cry. The bike owner sees Bruno crying for his father, and convinces the police to let Antonio go. As they walk through the hostile crowd, Bruno takes his father’s hand.

Sad, isn’t it? On the one hand, Antonio is back to being jobless and hopeless by the end of things, but on the other hand, he’s still alive and not in prison. The ending’s ambiguity may irk some people who want closure, but it keeps the film from falling over the edge of the cliff of saccharinity – something that films from other countries don’t usually run into anyway, but when you grow up on a lot of Hollywood productions, it’s hard to not expect it. Also, I don’t know if this needs to be said or not, but this is an Italian production, about Italian people, in Italian. That means subtitles for us English-speakers. But I wouldn’t recommend the film if I didn’t think it was worth it, and Bicycle Thieves is a powerful masterwork that deserves attention.

Bonus Review: Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure

The following was taken from a full-length review I wrote on this website on 08/02/2023. Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure is basically a modern Bicycle Thieves with a happy ending, anyway.

It feels weird, reviewing a movie that’s been with you since your childhood, and there’s a certain fear that comes with that: Is the movie as good as you remember it? More often than not, you go back to a movie from your past and you stare at the screen in horror over the idea that you ever enjoyed such a thing. And what’s worse, you told people recently that you liked that movie, before you sat yourself down to rewatch it. You have to hang your head in shame, now, around some of your friends because you spent several hours heatedly defending Space Jam. Life, as you knew it, is now over.

But there are other instances, where you return to a film through the eyes of your adult self, and it’s just as good as you remember it. Sometimes better. Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure is one of those movies. With the recent passing of Paul Reubens, a rewatch of the 1985 classic felt necessary. And I am thrilled to say that this film remains one of the best cinematic tales of young love, between a boy and his bike.

Pee-Wee Herman is your normal, everyday acid-trip-induced man-child version of Mister Rogers. He lives in a house with his dog, Speck, covered in gadgets and knick-knacks that overcomplicate the simplest tasks. His entire kitchen is rigged to where you can light a candle and your breakfast is made while you’re off doing something else. As a boy, I always wished for something similar in my future, but the logistics of having such a house seem insurmountable. But above everything else he owns, there is his most cherished possession: a red bicycle with a tiger’s head on the front. And there ain’t no one gonna come between him and that bike.

Paul Reubens saw Tim Burton’s original short, Frankenweenie, and personally requested that he direct this film. His fingerprints are all over the film, too. There are multiple dream sequences, some involving claymation, with black and white, German Expressionism-style set design. There’s a beautiful sunrise seen through the open jaws of a large T-Rex sideshow attraction, complete with jagged teeth framing it. There’s a fun, bouncing score from Danny Elfman, his first music-related project post-Oingo Boingo and his first collaboration of many with Burton. Burton’s style and attitude toward filmmaking are a perfect match for the character of Pee-Wee Herman.

The plot of the movie is hard to describe without sounding absolutely ridiculous, so I might as well just lean into it. All is wonderful in Pee-Wee’s world until he runs into the rich “kid” down the street, Francis Buxton. Buxton wants Pee-Wee’s bike more than anything at the moment and, to get it, he hires a greaser to steal it while Pee-Wee’s out doing a little bit of shopping. Pee-Wee soon realizes that no one is going to help him find his bike (after all, it’s “just a bike”) – not the police, not his friends – so he is on his own. With nowhere else to turn, he meets a fortune teller who tells him his bike is in the basement of the Alamo.

Pee-Wee hitchhikes to Texas with the help of a convict on the run for tearing the tags off mattresses, and a woman truckdriver named Large Marge. Although, this Large Marge lady may not be all that she seems to be. He gets dropped off at an unnamed diner in an unnamed part of the world, and he meets a friendly waitress named Simone. Simone encourages Pee-Wee to keep searching for his bike, and he encourages her to follow her dream of traveling to Paris. Simone’s boyfriend Andy is less understanding of her friendship with Pee-Wee, especially after he overhears them talking about her big “but”. He chases Pee-Wee with a dinosaur bone through a cornfield, forcing Pee-Wee to escape by jumping onto a moving train. He sings old songs with a hobo until he reaches his destination, San Antonio.

Pee-Wee is rightfully disappointed to find out that the Alamo doesn’t even have a basement, and so he’s back to the drawing board. While in San Antonio, he sets a national record in bull-riding. He also suffers from brief amnesia after being thrown from the bull. But don’t you worry, my dear Texans. Pee-Wee may not be able to remember his name, but he remembers the Alamo.

From there, he realizes he needs to get to a phone and call home, so he visits a bar that’s the local hangout of the biker gang, “Satan’s Helpers”. After he knocks over their bikes just outside the bar (which happens in any self-respecting road trip movie), Satan’s Helpers hold him down and debate how they’re going to kill him. He asks for a last request, and is granted it, so he borrows a busboy’s platform shoes and dances on top of the bar to “Tequila” by The Champs. As is expected, this wins over Satan’s Helpers and they offer him one of their bikes so he can travel home. He makes it to the edge of the parking lot before driving into the bar’s streetside signage.

Pee-Wee gets rushed to the hospital and sees a news report on TV that indicates his bike is in Hollywood on a film set. He makes his way to Hollywood, takes back his bike, and flees the Warner Bros. studio lot while being pursued by the entirety of the Warner Bros. security team. He travels through a beach movie, a Christmas movie, a Godzilla movie, a Tarzan movie, and a Twisted Sister music video before successfully escaping with his bike. Unfortunately, his freedom is short-lived. He stops to save all the animals inside a burning pet store, and it is there that he is caught and brought before Warner Bros. execs. Lucky for Pee-Wee, his story is interesting enough to where Warner Bros. wants to make a movie out of it! The film ends at the local drive-in, where all of Pee-Wee’s new friends show up to witness the premiere of this autobiographical movie.

Bonkers, right? Absolutely crazy, but it’s so much fun. The script is tight and throwaway lines earlier on make an appearance again later on. Pee-Wee’s retort to Francis (“I know you are, but what am I?”) is quoted by the film-version of Pee-Wee at the end. When making a police report, Pee-Wee is convinced that “the Soviets” are responsible for his missing bike, and in the fake film, Soviet ninjas are the main villains. It’s smart for knowing that it’s dumb and playing it up. Some scenes are terrifying, or at least were to the younger me – Large Marge, the dream sequences, one involving a T-Rex eating his bike, and another one involving three of a child’s biggest fears: clowns, doctors, and Satan. Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure is a joy to watch. It’s funny, quotable, feverishly ridiculous, and according to my wife, a little creepy, and we have Paul Reubens to thank for all of that.