Umberto D.

This movie, on ageing, mortality, companionship and neglect, is the greatest film of the 1950s, and perhaps the saddest film of all time. Considered a little schmaltzy by some, but to me far more genuine and less contrived than the neo-realist efforts of, say, Roberto Rossellini. Martin Scorsese: "UMBERTO D. is a great film about what it is to stand by and watch, helplessly, as you slip into poverty and even your dignity becomes excess baggage."

The bread is his soul. He's trying to buy back a loaf of his *soul*.

Umberto isn't immediately likeable, but the film's realistic and unsentimentalist presentation gradually draw sympathy for him. By the end it's absolutely heart-wrenching. The friendship between man and dog works well here, but maybe I'm a sucker for such things.

The movie gradually builds its emotional sympathy for Umberto; it never wavers from its unsentimental nature, but the more you get to know Umberto (and Flike), the more you feel awful for them and the more heartbreaking the movie becomes. Umberto D is also one of the most artfully shot movies I've ever seen; it's neorealism but De Sica wrenches the maximum amount of beauty out of every frame without ever straying from its realism.

One of the earliest attempts to garner sympathy through strategic use of a dog? It's obvious that only a few years after its start, Italian Neorealism has moved away from the restricting shackles of naturalism and has embraced the possibilities of formalism. Not every scene feels entirely necessary, but it builds to a powerful and genuinely heartbreaking finale.