I bambini ci guardano

Luckily, this movie came on Turner Classic Movies a few years ago and I had the opportunity to see it.

Since then, I have searched for reviews and couldn't find one; it's nice to see that other people have seen this de Sica masterpiece. ;) I was beginning to wonder if I was the only American to see this.

If you have seen it, how can you not love this? As I said, I saw this a few years ago - and only saw it once - yet, there are so many images in my head as I think of the film. The story is heart-wrenching. I cried when I watched it. {blushing}

This film made me a fan of neo-realism. It also was the impetus for me to watch more of de Sica's films and then those of Rossellini and Fellini.

A terrific 'tear-jerker' which SHOULD NOT BE MISSED if you ever get the chance. You'll have missed something very special if you miss it!

A four-year old boy, Pricò, becomes the subject of emotional folly by his fluctuant parents and inattentive relatives.

Peter Brunette notes, "The Children Are Watching Us marks the first full blossoming of one of the most fruitful collaborations in world cinema history. The brilliant pairing of legendary Italian actor and hitherto commercial director Vittorio DeSica with Cesare Zavattini, the talented screenwriter who was to become the chief theorist of the neorealist movement that flourished in Italy right after World War II, created a synergy of magnificent proportions, which allowed each man to transcend his own individual limitations." So, Brunette might be a little flowery with his prose, but he is spot on. Regardless of whatever internal qualities this film has, good or bad, it is historically significant because of its place at the beginning of DeSica's career. This may be his least-known film, or at least one of the lesser known, but without it there would never have been "Bicycle Thieves", "Umberto D", or much of anything else. This really is the birth of the neo-realist movement that defined Italy for a generation.

De Sica's first Neo-Realist film had been neglected over the years and, so, it was a surprise to see it being added to "The Criterion Collection". Ultimately, it's not up to his later more celebrated quartet - SHOESHINE (1946), THE BICYCLE THIEF (1948), MIRACLE IN MILAN (1951) and UMBERTO D (1952) - but, taken on its own modest merits, it's a reasonably effective work coming from an actor best-known for light fare!

As indicated by the title, the narrative is seen through the eyes of the sensitive young son of a working-class couple; the mother is having an affair and the boy is witness to - and the victim of - the inevitable disintegrating family ties, being bounced around from the household of one begrudging relative to another. The couple make a determined effort to stay together for the sake of the child (having to contend, besides, with the nosy and gossiping tenants of their condominium) - but the impetuous young man who has come between man and wife won't give her up so easily, and he finally manages to tear her from them for good. In desperation, the husband commits suicide…

The plot is pretty melodramatic and the film is infused with a good deal of sentimentality (there are plenty of close-ups of the boy weeping his heart out, for instance); clearly, De Sica's hand isn't confident as yet in juggling the various elements that comprise such slices-of-life - for one thing, he has used actors rather than the non-professionals who would come to serve him in good stead in his subsequent Neo-Realist classics. Even so, the three leading performances are undeniably excellent...while the film's real coup is to be found in its devastating - and truly uncompromising - conclusion.

This film caught me by surprise, I should say, gripped me by surprise. First, is its power to move deeply about which others have written. What might easily have seemed hollow and sentimental becomes compelling and searching because of the detailed performances given to all four of the central characters. Most amazing of these is Luciano De Ambrosis portrayal of Prico through whose eyes the story is told. The DVD includes an excellent 1984 interview with De Ambrosis in which he talks about working with De Sica. At one point the father carelessly knocks Prico into the side of a door. We know at once that the hurt to Prico is more emotional than physical, and we sympathize, but at the same time we also are drawn into the father's anguish that has brought him to this abuse. The moment is brief but hits home because it is well prepared for.

Of course the story through the boy's eye is the film through De Sica's lens, and it is always a revealing lens, emotionally caught up, frequently looking around corners or looking up at adult gossip. The world shown occasionally enters dream realities. One actual dream sequence made me think of Dali's questionable sequence in Hitchcock's "Spellbound," just three years later. However, where that is self-conscious and anything but dreamlike, this carried me off and felt genuine. I almost didn't notice as was drawn in, and everything reverberated feverishly as I was brought back. As one of the commentaries makes clear, the film had special resonance with the summer of 1942, just before war broke out. That only adds to its heart-wrenching power. The Children Are Watching Us is a magnificent plea for love and compassion. If it does not touch you, you must be very hard-hearted, indeed.

Once in a great while, a child actor and a director are perfectly matched so that the child delivers an indelible performance that etches itself firmly into film history, as Jean-Pierre Leaud did for Truffault in The 400 Blows, or Haley Joel Osment accomplished for Shamalyan in The Sixth Sense; The child Luciano De Ambrosis performs with an incredible sensitivity to the insensitive adults around him, a mother and father who search for their own bliss while forgetting their child's well-being. Because it was released during WWII in Italy, DeSica's early effort did not receive the kudos it deserved, but deserves to rank in the pantheon with Bicycle Thief and Umberto D; it's a simple story of learning bitter lessons, with a memorable, well-defined sense of time and atmosphere.