History brilliantly set in desert-sweeping motion

Rating: 10/10 (6 January 2007)

David Lean's famously epic rumination of the titular character is a relentlessly long desert saga, but it has a destination: illustrate the hypocrisy of war and the madness of pre-world war I colonialism. It is also one of the best films I have ever seen, with a lead actor's performance that is simply ten times better than anyone else's in film history. Although the success of Lawrence rests squarely on the shoulders of the eccentric Peter O'Toole as the flamboyant British officer, the manageable script by Robert Bolt, the sweeping cinematography of the desert-laden plains by Freddie Young and the swarmingly epic score by Maruice Jarre all firmly elevate the film to classic status.
Based on T.E. Lawrence's rambling, puzzling memoirs in "The Seven Pillars of Wisdom," David Lean translates the man's epic journeys in Saudi Arabia to something equally mystical in the film. Lawrence of Arabia tells the story of English officer (O'Toole) who helps the divided Arab tribes to unite against the Ottoman Empire in the Great War. With his hit-and-run, guerilla-warfare tactics, military triumphs unfold in the desert-swept, dramatic landscape that no one thought possible. Through a series of audacious victories, Lawrence earns the trust, respect, and loyalty of the Arab peoples and becomes something of a hero to the world, even though it nearly drove him mad in the process, torn and conflicted between he loyalty of England and that of the "quaint, barbaric" Arabs. Why he wanted any of this the movie leaves up in the air.
Much like the story, Peter O'Toole lets his character Lawrence unfold in mystical ways, heightening the enigma that is the officer-turned-major. He is emotionally transparent in his performance when it calls for it, such as at the height of battle or broken-down in a Turkish prison camp, but there is a perpetual impenetrable air about him that is so endlessly refreshing and interesting to behold. "I'm different," he proclaims to the stiffy bureaucratic military in Cairo and shows us a man who sings, jests, philosophizes and befriends unlikely subjects in the vast desert. When given new white billowing robes by his friend Sheriff (Omar Sharif), he twirls and admires his appearance. In this way, Lawrence is both suggestive and flamboyant, fit with a plummy English accent, hinting at homosexuality, and indeed his presence is almost incongruous to the barren, plain setting. Suffice to say that O'Toole shamelessly swallows every scene he is in and aptly captures the many ever-shifting shades of Lawrence.
The desert-strewn pictorial style is a definite strong suit for 'Lawrence of Arabia' as it provides juxtaposition (O'Toole's piercing blue eyes against the sandy infinity), visual stimuli and living illustrations of the vast harshness of a far-stretched Arabic desert. The first sight of Omar Sharif, initially a mere dot on the horizon, is perhaps the most striking sequence in this epic travelogue  but in all fairness these visual gems are delivered by the bucketload by cinematographer Freddie Young. There is no fancy-schmancy CGI or effects; if you want to shoot a desert sunrise you get up early and wait until it emerges. The result is unbelievably raw and sliced down to the bare essentialsdesert, desert, desert. Even the dialogue is comparatively sparse, and epic battles are only interjected when it calls for it. Its biggest accolade, as far as I am concerned, is the absence of extra-template romances or personal intrigue. That is something you do not see in films today, and I am endlessly thankful that there are no gratuitous swooning women in it.
In spite of the absence of epic romances, Lawrence of Arabia is romantically poetic enough on its own. David Leans opens with 5 minutes of all score, and no visual images. Now, I have heard a lot of good scores in my days, but Maruice Jarre's hauntingly recognizable desert tunes are simply incredible. This musical component speaks volumes on the epic scale and is brilliantly scored to scenes such as the iconic 'match melting into a desert sunrise' sequence. Some would perhaps argue that the film is mostly cinematography, music and acting, but I say it touches on some highly then-salient issues, giving a curt nod to the Lawrence enigma but truly breathing life into his character and intertwining some imperial politics in the process. When Lawrence returns sweaty and dressed in rags from gruesome desert fighting and having lost men in the swallowing heat, the posh officers in the Cairo headquarters inform him on the news: "We've built a squash court." "Jolly good." Brilliant, and satirical.
I could give more rambling, semi-coherent and fawning praise for 'Lawrence of Arabia', but I think I will stop here. It is certainly an experience, visually, sensory and musically and the fearsomely intense radiance of Peter O'Toole gets it far alone.
10 out of 10 (I don't just throw this grade out)