Direkt zum Hauptbereich

Umberto D. (Vittorio de Sica, 1952)

A pensioned public employee is struggling to survive on a meager pension and tries to keep his dignity and moral values intact while his situation gets more dire by the day.

Although the story takes place in a big city the film is very good at conveying the feeling that Umberto is isolated by his age and his realization that society has no use for him anymore. His landlady is quite the monster - she rules the hallway of her apartment like a bitter queen. It's quite amazing how long Umberto holds on to the apartment, his only confidante is the naive and beautiful maid, who has her share of troubles to keep her position in the household.

(MANY SPOILERS) Sometimes Umberto could come off like a rather stubborn old man it's his agile little dog that keeps the viewer firmly rooted for him. At the end of the film, Umberto tries to give the dog (and his will to live) away, but even than he cannot find a suitable taker. So he decides to take the dog with him when he dies. But suddenly the little creature steps up, feeling the danger and becomes very "human" for a minute.

 The scene starts off with a wide pan, showing Umberto how he crosses the closed barrier and appraoches the tracks.
 A closeup of the tingling wires announces the arrival of the train.
Umberto stands and watches. The camera slowly tracks towards him and the music becomes louder and more dramatic.
We can see the train approaching - it is still small, but coming closer very fast.

 His reaction is from a lower angle, making it more dramatic (and closer to the POV of the dog)

 A frontal close-up on the dog shows him struggling, trying to break away from the danger.
At the same time as the locomotive arrives, the dog jumps to the ground and Umberto is confused enough not to throw himself in front of the train.

The train passes and in a fabulous shot, Umberto screams his dog's name through the dust. An astonishing visual moment. The world has turned dark.

The dog stands in the sun, watching his master with something that might be described as benign scorn. Obviously, it's what we'd like to see in the dog's face, but it works extremely well.

Umberto watches the train fade into the distance.  The sun has returned.

In the same wide shot as in the beginning he returns to his dog, who waits at safe distance from the barrier. 


Kommentare

Beliebte Posts aus diesem Blog

Time of the Gypsies / Dom Za Vesanje (Emir Kusturica, 1988)

A supernaturally gifted boy from a Gypsy community is forced to survive in the world of crime. The intriguing qualities of Kusturica's films I've seen is his relentless depiction of basically crazy communities. Not just agreeably potty, they're usually outright interstellar-nuts. Here, he follows the fate of the rather harmless boy Perhan, that leaves for Italy in hope of a better future for him and his loved ones. There are some enormously interesting images in the film that kept ringing long after. The ritual in the river and the last scene in the church ruin (with a horse standing somewhere far back in the image...). After sketchily mapping out the scenes it is surprising how rigorously three-acty the screenplay is constructed. The first act seems quite long in terms of time and number of scenes, but there is also a lot of imagery spent on depicting life in this crazy universe, which makes the second part in Italy much more believable. And there is a certa...

Easy Street (Chaplin, 1917) - #DTC 1819

The tramp-turned-policeman is given charge to clean up notorious Easy Street. This Chaplin was pretty coherent in story, although one can still feel his extremely strong focus on single scenes, and his longer films always lack something of an arc for me. But here the whole movie is short enough to keep me posted on the story. The centerpiece for me was the chase routine, which seemed like an enormously tuned door-in/door-out scene. But the tempo is still amazing to watch even after a hundred years. I felt a lack of this pace in Lloyd's film and in other slapstick comedies from the era and later. The general perception of comedic rhythm seems to have changed substantially over time, but Chaplin's stuff seems to work great in all eras. His arch-enemy, the fascinating Eric Campbell is a delight to watch and works as the archetypical thug.

Choked (Joong-Hyun, 2011) - #Berlinale 2012 #koreablog

A young man is confronted with his mothers worsening debts. Things spiral out of control when she suddenly disappears. Most notable about the film for me was the insight into the Korean society - the filmmakers seem to suggest that basically everyone in Korea seems to live way over their means. The pressure on the son to get a "good life" in terms of owning an apartment of good size determines the happiness of his fiancee. The characters talk plainly about the subject of money to each other with a frankness that would not be seen in other societies. I wonder if this was a fiction or conversations can be that open in Korea. Something I've noticed recently in some Asian films with a similar style is a sort of liberation of the genre, I cannot really describe it any better. At any point during this film I expected it to turn funny, bloody, dramatic or simply weird. And to a very slight degree it really turns this or that direction. Maybe it was just me, but t...