"Another of these desert-loving Englishmen"

Rating: 9/10 (12 June 2010)

Ever since the heyday of Douglas Fairbanks, cinema has been in love with the iconic image of the rugged, gritted-teeth outdoorsman, through actors like from John Wayne to Clint Eastwood, and directors like Victor Fleming and Raoul Walsh. In the more analytical, less adulatory cinema of the mid-50s onwards, these fearless heroes became the subject of lengthy character studies. These sometimes proved just as popular as their lighter ancestors, so long as they contained the necessary dose of action and adventure to add flesh to the bones.
Lawrence of Arabia is, as character studies go, pretty gargantuan, and really quite devastating in its complete unravelling of the nature of heroism. But such ruminations needn't necessarily be revisionist or provocative. The screenplay by Robert Bolt and Michael Wilson begins by inspiring us with admiration for the man, and leaves us filled with pity for him. It is an incredibly concentrated piece of characterisation, but what is rather neat about it is that it says very little directly about Lawrence, besides vague and sometimes conflicting statements. Demons such as his sadistic and masochistic streaks or his inability to fit into military or indeed Western lifestyle come across through his actions – not through his words, nor the words of those who speak about him. This is not only a very powerful method of storytelling but it is a very realistic way of showing the disparity between the man and the myth. Those demons of course come to dominate the character and the picture.
This emphasis on "show, don't tell" (which is of course the essence of all great storytelling) is given life by the vibrant visual direction of David Lean. In Lawrence of Arabia his images are constantly shifting between the historical reality of the broad canvas to the emotional intensity of an extreme close-up. This is also his way of keeping the story in motion. The cut from the blown-out match to the desert sunrise is of course very well known, but in fact Lean begins and ends almost all his shots in this snappy manner. Even cuts within in scenes tend to give completely new colouring, scope and movement. However the actual shots themselves often consist of gradual shifts in tone, with objects hoving into view or slipping out of sight. It's a fairly literal approach to film grammar (cuts are for changes, shots are for movement) and this makes it extremely effective.
In fact the direction of David Lean here looks even better than it really is thanks to how in tune the entire production team was. Editor Anne V. Coates (who is still going today in her mid-80s) took on the mammoth task of aligning all of Lean's jarring cuts, and did a perfect job of it. Maurice Jarre not only created a score which fits the tones of the movie (that main theme, with its hints of Arabic melody, conjures up both the hot splendour of the desert and the cool quench of the oasis), but one which dances expertly to the tune of Lean's images, even working in seamless switches in timbre and melody to coincide with the edits. The sound design too takes the reigns wherever a visual change might be too abrupt – for example the creaking of Feisal's tent after he utters the words "I fear it".
With such a flawless production job, the actors in Lawrence of Arabia seem simply to slot into place. Peter O'Toole is of course very good – introducing Lawrence as a softly-spoken and unassuming hero, bringing out the calm wisdom which passes for charisma, and finally showing the desperate conflict that was going on inside – but one could not say it is a performance that commands the picture. The character as he is written and presented commands the picture, but O'Toole does not. Omar Sharif's is the best performance we see, filled with a very realistic alertness and sense of indignation. Compared to him, it's a little disappointing to see Alec Guinness and Anthony Quinn give somewhat trite interpretations of wise Arab leaders, but at least they are true to the demands of the story and hold up their parts of the movie. Fun fact for you: It wasn't just Caucasians being (mis?)cast as Arabs. I.S. Johar, who plays Gasim, was Indian and a fairly big star in Bollywood.
I think what makes Lawrence of Arabia so appealing both then and now is that it shows us the tough, outdoors-loving warrior hero, sweeping us along on his adventures, and yet doing so without lying to us about the strains and disappointments of such a lifestyle. Straightforward realism makes for dull viewing, but no-brainer action can be hollow and unmemorable. Lawrence of Arabia gives us the best of both worlds, with a delicate precision that is beautiful in itself.