Review of Umberto D.

Much has been written about this landmark masterpiece from Vittorio De Sica. I first saw it (with my parents) as a young man in high school, at the Uptown (Columbus) Theatre in Providence, and at the age of thirteen I was thoroughly moved by this story of old age, poverty, and near-despair! Perhaps that was a precocious reaction from a youngster, but as the years moved on and I've become closer in age to its sad hero and am retired just as he was, I've never ceased to be moved by this story. The truly stirring scenes are those between Umberto and his dog Flaik. The moment when he saves it from impending death in the dog pound and clasps it to himself as the only thing in the world he can love and be loved by, is utterly overwhelming. Willy-nilly, the dog returns the favor, the gift at life, at the end by saving his master from a suicidal leap before an oncoming train. These scenes are justly extolled by Martin Scorsese in his documentary tribute to the Italian cinema IL MIO VIAGGIO IN ITALIA.

Yes, the film seems to have an almost Dickensian outlook on the world. The bad are truly bad, gargoyles in fact, like that hideous couple that shelter dogs and to whom Umberto wisely decides not to abandon Flaik, and like the caricatured bitch of a landlady that is Umberto's nemesis. And the good are long-suffering, like the unwed pregnant servant girl and like Umberto himself. Through it all the message of director Vittorio De Sica and screenwriter Cesare Zavattini radiates. Life is a treasure. This film celebrates that idea so poignantly and so wisely. We live. We suffer. We are Umberto D.