Best Picture: # 35
Original Release Date: December 10, 1962
Rating: Approved
Runtime: 3 hours, 48 minutes
Director: David Lean
Quick Impressions:
We watched the restored director’s cut of the film, which is a bit longer than the original theatrical release. Because the movie is almost four hours long, we began watching over the weekend. Within twenty minutes, my daughter and I were jubilantly rejoicing, delighted that the film already had us hooked. (For us, West Side Story was pretty disappointing. We didn’t want a repeat of that experience. Fortunately, Lawrence of Arabia gave us everything we’d ever dreamed of in a movie.) What a captivating film! The odd part is, the film begins to captivate even before we’ve gotten much of a taste of its plot. An odd-ball with almost Sherlock-Holmes-like energy in the early scenes, Lawrence is immediately compelling, and, of course, Peter O’Toole is a wonderfully gifted actor. Plus who can help watching in awe as anyone wanders through such strange, breath-taking landscapes? If the film had given us nothing but Lawrence riding a camel alone through that photogenic desert, I personally would have been hooked for the next four hours. But, as a matter of fact, the story holds excitement of its own.
The Plot:
Based on true events, though embroidered with some fictional characters and details, the film tells the story of the enigmatic and remarkable T.E. Lawrence, a British military officer initially stationed in Cairo during World War I. Because of his fascination with and academic knowledge of Arab culture, Lawrence is sent to the court of Prince Faisal to assess the willingness of the Arabs to rise against the Turks in aid of the British and their allies. Once there, Lawrence dreams a bit bigger and devises a plan to take Aqaba by land by crossing the desert and surprising the Turks, who have prepared to defend the city from attack by sea. No one suspects this attack because someone would have to be crazy to try it. One seemingly insurmountable challenge is crossing the desert itself. Another is convincing the mutually hostile tribes of Arabs to form an alliance to drive out the Turks. But Lawrence believes he can do the impossible, and so he does.
As Lawrence’s impossible successes grow, so do his ambitions. But his victories do not come without cost. After experiencing repeated trauma, Lawrence’s mental health begins to crumble. Delusions of grandeur alternate with periods of self-loathing. He still dreams big, but sometimes he finds himself lost in his nightmares. Nevertheless, he continues with his work until he has delivered Damascus to the Arabs. After that, he can do no more.
The Good:
Lawrence of Arabia has the most impressive cinematography I have seen in any film. Ever. (For once, that’s not hyperbole.)
The sheer scope, the grandeur of the shots of Lawrence’s perilous journey across the vast and varied desert spaces often made me gasp and held me spellbound to the screen.
The visuals alone made me exclaim after just an hour or so, “This is a great movie! I don’t even care what happens!”
My daughter died laughing and immediately began to mock me, “‘I don’t even care what happens!’ It’s a historical film! ‘I don’t even care what happens!'”
But she was hooked, too. The cinematography is just magnificent. At one point, I joked that it’s like Lord of the Rings with camels. You know all those scenes of the fellowship adventuring their way to from Riverdale to Mount Doom? You know how that whole Peter Jackson take on the Tolkien trilogy plays like a magnificent tourism commercial for New Zealand? Lawrence of Arabia does the same thing for Jordan. (They’re not just in Jordan, but I know they filmed there for a long time.)
The desert is impressive enough by itself. I suppose God gets the credit for its immense, intimidating grandeur. But I’ll credit the cinematographer (and also the obviously visually oriented director) for presenting it to us with such variety of gaze. My daughter observed, “Didn’t that one guy say, ‘In the desert, there is nothing’? Yet there are all these gorgeous shots!” Director of photography Freddie Young uses so many different angles and inventive methods of making each moment in the desert fresh and captivating. It’s no wonder the film won Best Cinematography. It would have been a crime if it hadn’t!
Honestly, the movie is so visually impressive that nothing else matters nearly as much because the visuals aren’t just aesthetically pleasing. They’re doing so much effective worldbuilding and storytelling all by themselves.
The oft swelling score is powerful, too, and usually provides a perfect accompaniment. Composure Maurice Jarre not only won the Oscar here, but he also composed the well-known, Oscar winning score of Dr. Zhivago. (At least it’s well known to me. I once had a music box that played “Lara’s Theme.”) This restored version of the film worried us a bit initially because the first several minutes offers a completely dark, blank screen as the overture plays. The music of the film is powerful and compelling, but for a while there, we thought our TV was broken. (Make no mistake, it’s on its last legs. But it’s plasma, and it’s lasted eight years, so we can’t complain.)
Together, the cinematography and score let us know right away that we are watching something epic. The film moves at a slow, stately pace, and somehow that only makes it more irresistibly compelling and suspenseful. (Some part of you thinks, “Okay, the sun just came up for like an hour, and now they’ve been moving in a straight line across the desert for like ten minutes. This must be setting up something really big!”) I love films (and books) self-impressed enough to take their sweet time setting things up. (Even in pop culture, notice how in a well done summer blockbuster like Jurassic Park, simply setting up the story takes a good hour.)
Right away, I started realizing how little I knew about the events depicted in the film. Basically everything I knew about Lawrence happened in the first five minutes of the movie. (My mother and I often discuss his ironic death–ironic in that it did not happen during any of his tumultuous campaigns during the war. It actually came up during Final Jeopardy! recently, and I told her, “You realize I only know this because you and Grandma and Grandpa always considered it common knowledge.” The only other tidbit I knew about Lawrence also came from my mother, that Noel Coward had once remarked of Peter O’Toole that “if he had been any prettier, they could have called him Florence of Arabia.”
Be shocked at my ignorance when I tell you that I did not realize how far from united the various Arab clans and tribes were so late in history. I think of World War I as practically happening within my lifetime. (Of course, I’m a little weird.) It’s only been one hundred years ago, though. But from the way everyone is dressed and behaving, Peter O’Toole could have just as easily been running around the set of Ben-Hur having chance encounters with Jesus. Prince Faisal and his men gather in tents and ride around on horseback brandishing swords, and then suddenly a fighter plane appears overhead. The interruption seems quite incongruous at first. The collision of these two worlds struck both of us as improbable, miraculous somehow, like Steve Trevor turning up on Themyscira.
I also (extremely stupidly) never actively realized that the Arabs were so different from the Turks. I mean, I’m not an idiot. It’s just something I don’t study or think about. I spent years and years mainly researching medieval and Renaissance England when anyone on the “wrong” side of the Crusades was a “Turk.” I did learn about the culture of the Middle East a little in sixth grade (when I was taking world history and the Middle East was kind of buzzy because of the first Gulf War), but I guess I haven’t given enough thought to the Middle East since. When forced to think about it, obviously I do know that Jordan is not in the same space physically as Turkey. I just didn’t realize that most countries in the Middle East were in such an un-unified state of affairs as late as World War I.
The only other thing I remembered hearing about T.E. Lawrence was that he wasn’t gay, but (like most people who aren’t gay) might have been gay. I discovered this while reading a comment thread on some post about Katharine Hepburn ten to fifteen years ago. Two faceless strangers got into a vicious (and apparently engrossing) argument, one insisting that Lawrence was gay and in self-loathing denial, the other maintaining just as persistently that Lawrence was asexual with sadomasochistic leanings. Having watched this movie, I can appreciate their debate a bit more since the film would support either reading of Lawrence (and also some combination).
So even though I stupidly said to my daughter, “I don’t even care what happens,” in my zeal to praise the cinematography, I actually did find the plot of the movie educational and engrossing.
The story is coherent and surprisingly focused given the four-hour runtime, and the screenplay seems well written with some marvelous, memorable lines. My favorite is, “The English have a great hunger for desolate places.”
The cast is fantastic, too. Watching, you think, “How could Peter O’Toole never have won a competitive Oscar when he gives performances like this one?” It seems impossible. I kept thinking, “If Charlton Heston won for Ben-Hur, how in the world did Peter O’Toole not win for Lawrence of Arabia?” But now that I look, I see he was beaten by Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird. That’s not as complex a performance, but certainly an iconic one. Too bad, though. O’Toole (in his first major staring role though not his first actual role) is excellent as Lawrence. (I prefer the name the Arabs give him, captioned Aurens in the restored version we watched.) At times heroic, at others unsettlingly close to madness, his Lawrence seems simultaneously stronger and more fragile than most people. For long stretches, he seems almost to view himself as a messianic figure. Then his humanity crashes down around him. He’s always hovering right on the edge of a PTSD induced mental breakdown, but against all odds, he manages to do such extraordinary things again and again and again. The character is certainly complex, and not just anyone could play him well.
The rest of the cast is top-notch, too. I especially loved Alec Guinness as Prince Faisal. I know this seems like an insane about-face from my last review when I was so annoyed they painted Natalie Wood brown and encouraged her to speak in a “Puerto Rican” accent, but I have no problem with Guinness playing an Arab prince. Theoretically, this is just as wrong as Wood playing Maria, but it’s done more artfully. Based on images I’ve turned up online, Guinness actually does look astonishingly like the historical Faisal. (Indeed, all of the actors strongly resemble the real-life figures they portray.) Also, he does not play the part as if he’s in some Victorian melodrama, playing up Faisal’s otherness. He plays the character quite earnestly and makes him so compelling and sympathetic that I wanted to see more of him. Now should a more ethnically similar actor have played the role? Yes, but this was 1962. At least the character is taken seriously as a man and not made sinister or played for laughs. Today the casting would be different, but I like what Guinness does in the role.
Nominated for Best Supporting Actor is Omar Sharif as Sherif Ali. I love his performance, too. I’ve always felt a strong affinity for Sharif and gotten excited whenever he turns up in a movie for the simple (and rather silly) reason that he shares my birthday. For a long time, almost no actors I knew did. It was an exclusive club–me, Sharif, and Max Von Sydow. Since then, a lot of years have come and gone, and now more celebrities have joined our club (like Rapunzel and that kid from I Am Number Four). But I still have a special place in my heart for Sharif.
As the film goes on, we see more and more that after O’Toole, Sharif has the best part, and he makes the most of it. His character, Sherif Ali, is, I believe mostly (if not entirely) fictional. I love the dynamic between him and Lawrence, always subtly changing until by the end, the two have practically switched places with one another in certain ways. Sharif was deservedly nominated for Best Supporting Actor. He’s almost like an anchor in the film’s final act. The way he looks at Lawrence, watching his decline into…whatever it is he declines into…gives the audience a way to connect to the story emotionally.
Also good is Anthony Quinn as Auda Abu Tayi. Auda gets some of the film’s best lines, and Quinn really makes the most of them. “Thy mother mated with a scorpion.” “Give thanks to God that when he made you a fool, he gave you a fool’s face.” Quinn almost serves as comic relief, in fact, although his character is in no way a clown. He just has a blunt practicality that is refreshing compared to the eerie intensity of Lawrence and the calculated restraint of Faisal and Sherif Ali.
José Ferrer appears very briefly as the Turkish Bey who captures Lawrence and has him tortured. It’s a very small part but a pivotal episode. Jack Hawkins (who has been showing up in a lot of Best Picture winners lately) plays British General Allenby, whose tactics my daughter regarded with strong disapproval. Anthony Quayle appears as another British officer sent to Faisal, Colonel Brighton. Zia Mohyeddin manages to be winningly charming in his brief appearance as Lawrence’s first guide. Michel Ray and John Dimech have some good moments as Lawrence’s all-too-eager young servants, Farraj and Daud. Nearing the end of his career (and life), Claude Rains gets some excellent lines which (of course) he knows how to deliver. And Arthur Kennedy made a strong impression on my daughter as an American reporter determined to lionize Lawrence to help the war effort.
Best Scene:
Lawrence’s journey reaches an almost eerie apex with the rescue of Gasim (I.S. Johar). There’s such celebration, and the improbable feat sends Lawrence and those around him to almost frenzied heights of joy and satisfaction. Their actual goal is practically forgotten (or begins to seem like a foregone conclusion), and Lawrence begins to seem like someone magical who cannot fail. So often this film reminded me of a Biblical epic, and I’m positive this is intentional. In his own mind, Lawrence becomes something more than a military leader. His mindset would be less concerning if he were…say…Jesus. There’s something eerie and disconcerting about his meteoric rise in his own eyes and the eyes of the men who follow him. This almost miraculous rescue pairs with another moment involving Gasim just a bit later and beautifully illustrates for us Lawrence’s fragility and growing torment. He can’t seem to decide if he’s glorious or veering toward evil. My daughter thinks he needs mental health counseling and had nothing good to say about the military officials who sent him back to do more wondrous feats.
Best Scene Visually:
Naming just one visually outstanding scene is impossible. The photography showcases the immense beauty of the natural landscape. So while the desert is the real star, it’s hard not to think that we wouldn’t find it so breathtaking if the director and cinematographer did not share their thoughtful gaze with us. A good photographer knows how best to showcase a subject, coaxing out inner qualities.
I’m certainly not a cinematographer, but I do love taking pictures as a hobby. And I know well that what makes a stunning photograph is often something easily missed by those strolling along not giving a thought to photography, angles, lighting, lenses, how best to fill the frame.
My favorite visual moment begins with footsteps in the sand on a moonlit night. I like this because of the sheer sense suspense the image builds as we wonder whose footsteps these are, where they are headed, and why.
Honestly I am equally impressed by the use of light and shadow in this film. We get some particularly impressive, almost spine-tingling shadows. O’Toole’s white robes (which seem to grow increasingly sheer) also lend themselves to some striking images.
Best Action Sequence:
The sinkhole scene is certainly riveting. Also, José Ferrer’s brief appearance in the film makes a powerful impression (on Lawrence and the audience). Again we get some Christ imagery that goes drastically wrong. Lawrence seems to view himself as semi-divine, able to will himself to do anything. When this proves not to be the case, he’s emotionally destroyed. O’Toole’s performance gives us such a nuanced, complex, tortured character. It’s almost unbelievable that he didn’t win Best Actor. I mean I love Atticus Finch as much as the next person, but honestly!
The Negatives:
I wanted to see more of Prince Faisal. I realize the film is not called Prince Faisal of Arabia, but I find him such a fascinating character. Early on, I assumed we would see more of him, much more. He makes such an impression and seems to be a personage of such importance that I expected him to be as central to the story as Sharif’s Sherif Ali. But he fades very quickly into the background and returns only occasionally. Certainly he’s a significant person to history, but less so to Lawrence. That’s a shame. Guinness is so engaging in the role, making Faisal seem so wise and clever that I even incorporated his way of thinking into an unrelated discussion I was having with my husband in the car. The way Faisal conceives of and explains things so appealed to me. Of course, it’s not a misstep by the movie to give us less of him. I simply wanted more Faisal because I liked the character so much.
The other small complaint I have is that the first half of the movie seems more visually bold. After the intermission, the film never recovers its staggering visual grandeur. In fact, the longer it goes on, the smaller and smaller everything seems to get. Again, this is not truly a criticism of the film since Lean may do this deliberately to reveal Lawrence’s interior state. As the film begins, he’s feeling swelling and heroic, increasingly confident. Then he gets stuck. After that, something traumatic happens to him, and he never quite recovers. I understand that Lawrence’s journey becomes more and more enclosed as his life goes on and he makes choices, but I do miss the swelling grandeur of those early desert vistas.
Overall:
Lawrence of Arabia is a remarkable film. From the start, it convinces us that we’re watching the most important story in the world. Any movie that can take an hour and a half to show the sun rise must really have something to say. The acting is superb, the dialogue is memorable, the music is stirring, and the visuals are like nothing else I’ve ever seen. Both my daughter and I loved this film, and she now wants a book about T.E. Lawrence for Christmas. Ooh, and I just remembered that The Lion in Winter is a Christmas movie. Maybe I can convince her to watch that!