LAWRENCE OF ARABIA

T.E. Lawrence is about to blow out a candle. We sense the significance of the scene. It means something. It feels like a punctuation mark, something added for emphasis and/or closure. When he blows out the candle, the screen immediately turns to a scene of the sun appearing to sit on the peak of a sand dune. It is here we see how great movies are crafted. The best films make every scene significant. They give every passage importance. Whether it is a segue, a short quote, or a majestic view, each small portion of a great film adds to a larger-than-life whole. The light never goes out in Lawrence of Arabia, perhaps the greatest character epic ever made. Instead, there is a constant source of energy, maybe drive, that fuels the actions of T.E. Lawrence.

Lawrence of Arabia is the shortest three-and-a-half hour movie I have ever seen. David Lean was becoming a master of the epic by this point in his career. He knew what scenes to cut, what scenes to leave in, what scenes to experiment with, and what scenes to just let be. Every passage of Lawrence of Arabia is a requirement. It is still shocking to learn that several scenes were cut in later theatrical and television versions of the film. It is redeeming to learn that David Lean took so much time to rebuild his original cut. Moviemakers everywhere should obsessively study this film. They should study it for its diligence and perseverance in cutting the fat, in making the film the perfect length. This is something that is nearly impossible to do for a film of this length. Most epics are ambitious; few are flawless.

Peter O'Toole was new to the big screen when Lawrence of Arabia came out. It turns out that this was an asset to the film. It allowed viewers to focus on T.E. Lawrence and not the actor portraying him. There is so much emphasis on the character that any diversion would have killed the effect. Through a chain of events that seem unlikely but are common in filmmaking, this choice was made. It turned out to be a stroke of genius, if also luck.

Lawrence of Arabia tells the story of T.E. Lawrence, loosely based on some of his own work. Lawrence was a British officer who was ordered to the Middle East to find a prince who allied with the British in the war against the Turks during World War I. The prince is named Feisel and is played by the brilliant Alec Guinness. Guinness brings such an effortless embodiment to his roles. He doesn't portray people. He is the person he is portraying. Guinness was an "everyman" actor. He was not a "common man" actor. Guinness could play and did play anybody. And he was perfect every time. David Lean and Guinness were lifetime collaborators. Much of their best work comes with their interaction, and this film is no exception.

The role of Guinness is small but essential. His crucial work in the final acts of the film leads to one of the film's central points. In war, individuals can change the world. In peace, this is not the case. As Guinness, portraying a wise old man, portrays a prince rising in power, O'Toole's Lawrence seems to dwindle into nothingness. "The vices of treaties are the vices of old men," Prince Feisel says.

When Lawrence first enters the desert, there is a grand sense of hope and heroism. Each shot is a giant, with a grand landscape. The sand feels and looks like the sea. The rock formations feel like frozen ghosts who are in awe of the land they are on. The sky is a perfect blue color. And the men and their camels look like tiny ants on a large ant hill. In a sense, this is a form of foreshadowing. Lawrence looks and acts larger than life during these passages, but the shots surrounding these moments make him look infinitesimal. This dichotomy is one of the many brilliant touches of David Lean, who often used visual splendor to complement or counteract the story of the film's words.

Lawrence's travels to meet Prince Feisel are at the heart of the first half of the first act. The second half of the first act focuses on his plans to take over the important town of Aqaba. We have by this time met one of Lawrence's friends and allies, Sherif Ali. Omar Sharif played the man. He was also a relative unknown at this point. But, much like Guinness, Sharif collaborated with Lean often, and his career catapulted as a result. Sharif's work here is impressive. He makes Sherif Ali an interesting counterpart to Lawrence, more cautious and calculated. Ali and Lawrence grow a silent bond that is explored in the film as well.

David Lean studies how one man, so otherworldly to the Arabs, can provide such an important leadership. Lawrence was a natural reactor. He talked and behaved to feed the personalities of his friends, acquaintances, and even enemies. And his unique and quirky personality were often a source of comfort to the others, a way of easily talking to a man versus being intimidated or disgusted. His friendship with Sherif Ali was one such scenario. It is interesting and important to study how Lawrence develops his friendship with Ali. Lawrence quickly learns Ali's nuances and focuses on them. He quickly emphasizes the very traits that would impress Ali and his friends.

One important sequence that aids in this analysis is Lawrence's back-trekking through the hellish Nefud Desert after one of their beleaguered crew falls off his camel in dehydrated exhaustion. To Ali, it is suicide, but Lawrence begins to feel somewhat mythical. He even acts like a god, especially since he finds the man and returns him to safety. Ali and friends are impressed. Indeed, Lawrence did seem like a god.

There is an important event, though, that foreshadows Lawrence's fall from supremacy. The man he saved kills a man from a separate but somewhat allied group (with obvious past tensions). Lawrence is forced to execute the man he saved. It is here we see that Lawrence has his dark side and is certainly touchable. Lawrence is human, and David Lean is reminding us and warning us of that very fact.

The film's second act shows us the fall of Lawrence. There are three important events that lead to this decline from the heroic graces. The first is his capture and imprisonment in the Turkish camp of Deraa. This capture haunts Lawrence to the core, and he quickly leaves the desert. Soon, vengeance becomes too much for Lawrence, and he returns to the desert with blood in his eyes. This leads to the second event, the bloodbath with the Turks who are approaching Damascus. He tells everyone, "No prisoners!" Indeed, after the slaughtering of the Turkish men, Lawrence is covered in blood. Sherif Ali has grown humbled and wearied by Lawrence's change. At one point, he blatantly tells Lawrence of his seeming hypocrisy in a scene of uncanny power.

The final event is the capture of Damascus and Lawrence's graceless exit from the desert. It is here that Lawrence finds himself helpless and out of place. It is here that Prince Feisel's true power is known. Lawrence is a man of war and not a man of peace. David Lean has made the man a small figure in a giant desert.

Many epics since Lawrence of Arabia have used a similar storyline, if not copied it. But no one has matched the freshness and tautness of David Lean's work here. Lean had a sense of making the image fit the story, even if the image did not match the story at the time. Lean used visual style in a literary sense. When we see Lawrence blow out the candle, Lean masterfully cuts to the next scene, featuring a sun in the candle's place. We see how this matches Lawrence's vision at the time. He is one who can't sleep. His drive is seemingly infinite. He is larger than life.

But then in the second half, we see a bloodstained Lawrence kneeling on the ground, smaller than his camel. He seems pathetic on the vast landscape of the desert. But David Lean warns us of this very thing. Many of his shots show Lawrence, Ali, and the Arab allies as tiny dots in the gigantic landscape. They seem almost insignificant. Even unimportant. As it turns out, this was partially true. Their efforts were impressive in war but negligible in peace.

Lawrence of Arabia features superb acting. O'Toole and Sharif are profoundly terrific in their roles. Guinness steals every scene he is in. Supporting work from Anthony Quinn, Jose Ferrer, Jack Hawkins, and the great Claude Rains is outstanding. It is amazing to note how no Oscars went to acting for this film.

My favorite scene of Lawrence of Arabia is the very first scene. We see T.E. Lawrence riding a motorcycle. At one point, he loses control and crashes. It causes his death. What a fascinating way to start the film. David Lean tells us that the man we later see in flashback as larger than life dies in perhaps one of the least important of ways. Lawrence is not a god. He is a man. A tiny man in a big desert.