Shoeshine (1946)

In its homeland, this is called Sciuscià, a cognate, because that is what the shoeshiners say when trying to get customers. I guess post-WWII Italy had a pretty strong American presence. Regardless, shoeshine has vanishingly little to do with the plot. It's merely how homeless 15-year-old Pascuale (Franco Interlenghi) and younger housed but impoverished pal Giuseppe (Rinaldo Smordoni) make money early on, before things start happening. Perhaps the point is that they occupy a humble place in society. And/or that they soon come to wish they had stuck with their first job, which might have sufficed if they weren't saving up for a horse.

After unwittingly taking part in a scam, Pascuale and Giuseppe go to separate five-boy cells in juvie. Since one of the uncaught deliberate criminals is Giuseppe's older brother, Attilio (uncredited, like most of the cast), the duo agrees not to spill. This gets harder when Pascuale worries about Giuseppe's well-being, but Giuseppe is not apt to be grateful, or even forgiving, for being spared at the expense of Attilio. How well can friendship survive in this environment, even with the prospect of escape?

It would be easy to summarize the film as a depiction of the questionable conditions for imprisoned youths, somewhat like The 400 Blows on a larger scale. The authorities, along with other men and older boys, do a fair bit of physical and verbal bullying and deception. The food is low on variety and reputed quality. Actually, the place is not quite as bad as I had anticipated, thanks in part to a guard who's not as harsh as the director would like. There's no Sleepers-level abuse. The worst events, while plenty tragic, are accidental.

But that summary doesn't do justice to the bigger picture. A good story is told, and a large part of what makes it good is an organic feel. It plays out like the writers didn't know all along what would happen. It flows logically yet not predictably, credibly yet never dully. The same applies to the dialog, near as I can tell. No wonder Orson Welles envied Vittorio De Sica afterward.

I'll also give De Sica credit for getting such acting out of so many teens and preteens. I'm not surprised to learn that this could require dozens of takes.

In case you're wondering, yes, there are a few female speaking roles. Much like the younger boys, they appear quite powerless in the face of contrary men. This is never a tale of fairness.

I have now seen five De Sica movies, and this might just edge out Bicycle Thieves for my favorite. There's so much more going on than my synopsis can capture.