All men dream: but not equally

Rating: 10/10 (4 March 2014)

I first watched Lawrence in the stupidest way possible, with a ruined, skipping DVD on an absurdly small PC screen, lying on the bed during an incandescent August afternoon, to kill time before returning to the beach.
It's a testament to this milestone of cinema how, in spite of everything, I still found myself swept away by the gorgeous visuals, by Jarre's haunting score, by O'Toole's fey Lawrence: his character arc from showy dreamer to overconfident warrior/poet and finally to bitter, disillusioned legend is one of the most compelling ever filmed.
Seldom in my movie-going experience I have been as thrilled by a character entrance as by Sheriff Ali's, still a black dot on the horizon as he shoots a man for the water of a well; as disturbed as by the nightmarish scene in Daraa and its implied horror; as betrayed as by the transmogrification of Alec Guinness' Prince Feisal from soft-spoken paternal figure to shrewd, manipulative politician; as exhilarated by cinematic craft as by the cut from the match to the rising sun, or the panning shot of the assault on Aqaba.
Epic at its finest: when Lawrence steps on a puddle and smiles as he appears to be walking on water, it tells us more about him than a whole hour of exposition would.
A vital, timeless masterpiece.
10/10