oving husband and an understanding father. His warmth belies the stereotypically "macho" Latin male. He helps his wife carry heavy buckets of water and engages his young son Bruno as a reliable helper, and trusted him with the preparation of the cherished bicycle for the first day's work. Hired as a billposter, Antonio was required to affix looming images of Rita Hayworth to the gray and ancient walls of Rome; ironically, he juxtaposes Hollywood's glamorous world vision to the stark realties of post-War Europe. While Antonio struggles to smooth out the lumps under the advertisement, a thief slips up behind him and steals his bicycle. Antonio chases him in vain, loses him in the rush of the mid-morning traffic. Thus begins an unrelenting three day search for his stolen bicycle. Accompanied by Bruno, Antonio combs Rome to recover his property, which has come to represent both his livelihood and any hope for a prosperous future. The police are of no help; they cannot be bothered with such a trivial case. Enlisting friends, Antonio and his son search the open air markets where stolen goods are dismantled and sold, for a trace of evidence. In a masterful montage of human faces and bicycle parts -- frames, tires, seats, horns, and so on, De Sica contrasts the world's apparent abundance with Antonio's desperate need. The camera takes Antonio's point of view, panning right to left, it seeks hopelessly for a "needle in a haystack." While waiting for a rain storm to clear Antonio spots the thief talking with an old man. Again, he chases butloses the thief, and follows the old man into a church, which is offering food and a shave to those want those services. Commenting on the role of the Catholic Church in post-War Italy, De Sica interrupts the mass with Antonio's interrogation of the old man. As the congregation prays, that their souls be purified and their spirits soothed on their paths of sorrow and privation, A...
