Lawrence Of Arabia

I’ve got an idea. Let’s make a 4 hour movie about a war. We won’t really show much of the battles. It’ll just be scenes of the English leader of the Arabian army going crazy in the desert.

Somehow David Lean got a movie deal out of that. And somehow the movie turned out to be one of the greatest films ever made. I just saw this movie for the second time, this time on the big screen, the way it was meant to be seen. Every shot is a classic. Every scene seems like it should go on forever. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this movie. Not even the length.

Peter O’Toole, in his first big role (the credits say “introducing,” but he had three roles before this–no one remembers them, though), plays T.E. Lawrence, a British soldier during World War I who is sent to North Africa to “appreciate the situation.” There, he meets Prince Feisal (Alec Guinness), the leader of one of the Arab tribal armies, Sherif Ali (Omar Sharif), the second in command of Feisal’s army and Auda abu Tayi (Anthony Quinn), the leader of one of the other tribal armies who end up joining forces with Feisal’s army.

Before being sent we learn a lot about Lawrence’s character. He has great self control (shown in a scene where he puts a match out very slowly with his fingers–”The trick is to not mind that it hurts.”) and he doesn’t really deal with authority very well (“It’s my manner, sir. It seems insubordinate, but it doesn’t mean to be”). Somehow he still gets sent on his mission.

His first guide is killed by Ali because he is from the wrong tribe. This, of course, angers Lawrence–go figure. (“My name is for my friends, none of which is a murderer.”) He finally makes it, on his own, to Prince Feisal and becomes a nearly reluctant leader to the army. As he makes plans for the army he starts to like the control. He even finds out that he enjoys killing a little more than he would like to admit. The thing is that he’s a natural leader. He’s charismatic. He’s intelligent. He’s got a God complex. (“They could only kill me with a golden bullet.”) He goes on a crusade against the Turks who are oppressing the Arabs. At one point he crosses the Sanai with two kids who have taken it upon themselves to be his servants. “Are you crossing the Sanai?” “Moses did!” “With children?!” “Moses did!”

After severe humiliation at the hands of the Turks he decides to go back to being a British soldier again. Unfortunately for him someone talks him into going back. This causes his complex to get even more complex. He starts blowing up Turkish trains (some of which were the actual trains that the real Lawrence blew up). The reporter who is following him takes some heroic pictures of him here. (The shots of him walking across the top of one of the trains is an indelible vision. Even his shadow is ethereal.) After one battle, though, Lawrence and the reporter both realize that things have gone too far. (“You dirty, filthy man. Let me take your dirty, filthy picture for the dirty, filthy papers.”)

I may have already given away too much, but the point of this movie isn’t really the story (although that’s pretty amazing, too), it’s the spectacle. It’s the cinematography. It’s Peter O’Toole and David Lean. Only once in a great while do roles like this come along for actors. This is the best role Peter O’Toole will ever have (unless he can break himself out of the Phantoms mode). All of his other great performances (Becket, Lion In Winter, The Ruling Class, My Favorite Year, The Last Emperor, The Stunt Man, Supergirl)–they’re all child’s play to this one. There’s so much going on with this character that you can’t keep up with it all. He’s at once heroic and sick, amazing and sad, life giving and destruction making. It’s a wonder that Peter ever got out of the character.

Then there’s all the other performances. All those decidedly non-Arab guys playing Arabs did a great job. It was hard to realize that Alec Guinness wasn’t an Arab. And Anthony Quinn? He may as well have been born in the sands of Egypt. Omar Sharif? He should have…oh wait…I guess he is Egyptian. Actually, being the age I am and the kind of person I am, it was hard for me to not think that Sir Alec would whip out his light saber and do some damage. “Orince? That boy was our last hope.” And what was with Anthony’s nose? I really don’t remember it being that big in any other part. And why is it lighter than the rest of his face?

Anyway, the film is amazing. Lawrence stands alone. There’s really not much else to say. If you get a chance, see it on the big screen. If not, then get the widescreen version (the only version I know of in existence) and see it on a big tv. There’s really no other way to see it. I did see it for the first time on a little 12 inch screen, but now I’ve seen what I was missing. Try not to do that. There’s too much lost. You don’t quite get the majesty of that two minutes of sunrise from the first scene in the desert. (Bet you didn’t know the desert could be this beautiful, huh?)

Since Lean is dead (Never say that! Never say he’s dead! Say he’s unavailable.) we’ll probably never get another movie like this. But we can watch his other epics like Doctor Zhivago, The Bridge On The River Kwai and A Passage To India (the only one I haven’t seen).

David Lean/Alec Guinness count=6 (Great Expectations, Oliver Twist, Bridge, Lawrence, Zhivago, Passage)

Lean/Omar Sharif count=2 (Lawrence, Zhivago)

Lean/Pauly Shore=000000000000000

Lean film Oscar nomination count=38 (9 for Lawrence)

wins=23 (7 for Lawrence)

These are both ballpark figures–I looked through a book that doesn’t give all the nominations in little categories, only winners.

Lean AFI 100 count=3 (Bridge, Lawrence and Zhivago–although I don’t know if they count as American movies–I thought they were British)

I’ll stop counting now. I was never good at math. Just thought I’d bore some people with useless facts…like I always do.