Shoeshine ★★★★

A more plot-driven, less subtle De Sica, relying heavily on the sincerely gut-wrenching child performances that can be matched by maybe Bruno in Ladri di biciclette. Speaking of, it is close to impossible not to compare Sciuscià to Umberto D. and the aforementioned Ladri di biciclette, and it is in doing so that this feels more like an attempt at easing an audience into what became Italian neo-realism rather than the epitome of the genre. Not that it is by any means bad, I apparently just prefer my Male Weepies slower and more subtle.