Gianni Amelio's Il Ladro di Bambini is a moving and beautiful film with an extraordinary power in its simplicity. Its story is small, its pace slow and deliberate, and its actors quietly and naturally reveal themselves through gestures and reactions; there is no sensationalism, and for a tale in which a preteen is made into a prostitute, fornication is decidedly absent. There is no preaching; its calm dialogue has no trace of moral righteousness or liberal propaganda. Pathos and indignation spontaneously arise from the simple candid image of two children who are unable to trust an honest adult. Very few modern filmmakers possess the intelligence or confidence to trust the emotional capacity of the unadorned cinematic image. Amelio is part of this minority. Il Ladro di Bambini, the Grand Jury Prize winner at the 1992 Cannes Film Festival, is a pure triumph of his rare, uncomplicated directorial style.