Showing posts with label Lawrence of Arabia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lawrence of Arabia. Show all posts

Friday, October 5, 2012

How is a Hero Broken (Lawrence of Arabia, 1962)


#20-- Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
This was my third viewing of Lawrence, the second this year.  I was glad to have it so fresh in my mind when finally having the opportunity to see it in IMAX yesterday.  It was already one of my favorite films, and while it's placement in my top 100 can only go up a bit (it's at #20 right now), this viewing certainly increases my appreciation of it.

There is certainly a benefit to seeing certain films writ large. A movie like My Dinner with Andre isn't important how you see it.  You want to watch it, not just listen-- it is a movie-- but the format isn't really important.  But a movie like Tree of Life, the format makes a bit of a difference.  Even with that, a blu-ray with a largish screen would do.  Not so Lawrence of Arabia.

Should it be seen this small?
 Last time I watched LoA, was on my laptop.  I can sit really close, but it still is not the same experience.  When a movie is almost four hours, you find that you want every scene to be justified.  When Lean spends minutes just looking at the desert, I wondered why he bothered to do this.  Why spend time on this?  I need to go to the bathroom.  A minute on a whirlwind.  Why?  I have better things to do.

With the full projection and the film restored after 50 years it all becomes clear.  We are supposed to love the desert like Lawrence does.  At the very least, we are to understand why he adores it so.  On a small screen it is difficult to understand, but on the large screen, the details display the beauty and the majesty of the desert that couldn't possibly be captured on my laptop.

Another thing that was astonishing to me is the use of empty space.  Here we have the largest screen made, and four fifths of it is filled with sky in many shots.  At the bottom of the screen is a sliver of desert or of a rising sun.  And it is amazing how well it works.  Almost an abstract piece that speaks to the heart of beauty although little is there.



*  *  *
I had a slightly different experience this time than previously.  The focus has always been for me see Lawrence as a leader.  A hero, yes, but a leader in general.  How all the pieces are there to make a perfect leader: charisma, arrogance, stepping into danger, trying what others say cannot be done, a love of other cultures, intelligence, moral strength, willpower and a broad education.  It is amazing and inspiring. 

This time, I noted especially the last third of the movie which speaks to the breaking of a leader.  Two of Lawrence’s great pillars of strength had to be broken—his arrogance and his willpower.  Eventually, put yourself in stressful situations and every human body will break—either the physical health or the mental health will go.  Lawrence was out on the edge so often that he had to break.  And the generals had to keep pushing him out there until his leadership was effected and he began making bad choices.  Great leaders burn out.

Lawrence of Arabia is a film that is an analysis of charismatic leadership, from the rise to the fall.  The film needed the length to present such a complex presentation, possibly the most thorough character analysis presented on film.  And O’Toole is perfect in every scene, constantly adding the small inventive touches that makes for a real character.  If Lawrence weren’t such a unique man, it would seem over-the-top, but he was, and it was all appropriate.

I have read a couple biographies of Lawrence, and I know that the Lean film is one simplistic interpretation of a life that has much that no one actually knows.  Much of what is in the film is guesswork.  But it is brilliant guesswork, and this film is the Lawrence that will be passed on through the ages.  He shall always be the brilliant glory-hound with bright blue eyes.  And so should it be.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Public Lawrence Announcment

Just to let everyone know, across the United States there will be showings of Lawrence of Arabia tomorrow.

In case you didn't know, I consider this one of the best films ever made, and I have only seen this Cinemascope film on the small screen.  I will be there.  If you want to see one of the greats in the way it should be seen, this may be your last opportunity.

One day: October 4.  Most theatres are showing it at 7pm.  If you want to find a theatre near you (if you are in the U.S.-- for others, sorry) check out this list from fathom events.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Ultimate War Movie



War movies are spotty.  It seems to be their nature.  There is only one war movie I can say that I enjoyed pretty much all of it (Apocalypse Now), but most of the rest of them have aspects which are wonderful, but the film as a whole doesn’t quite work.  And war movies should work.  There is heightened drama, high stakes, danger at every turn, and lots of opportunity for powerful performances.  It seems that perhaps most war films assume that the audience is involved in the heightened drama as well, or that an excellent beginning will woo the audience into buying the rest of the film.  But it never worked that way for me.  I can be wooed by beauty, by a great performance, even by a score that is emotionally resonant, but the drama of war doesn’t do it for me itself.  It needs something else.

I’ve gone so far as to make a list of scenes that I could put together to make the greatest war movie in the world.  If we could just put them together, it’d be magnificent.  Well, maybe not, but that’s my dream. 

Here’s my ultimate war movie:

The opening dialogue from Inglourious Basterds 








Boot camp from Full Metal Jacket










D-Day from Saving Private Ryan 









Surfing from Apocalypse Now  (can you imagine this right after the sequence of SPR?  Talk about an increase of tension)







Riding across the desert from Lawrence of Arabia (How the Arabian Desert became adjacent to Vietnam is an interesting subplot)







The President and his staff consider dropping the bomb: Combination of 13 Days and Dr. Strangelove (don’t ask me how to work that out, I’m not a screenwriter)





Capture and torture of David Bowie from Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence (significant aspect of any war movie)







Peace and a concert between enemies from Joyeux Noel 







And finally: Ending it all with dropping the bomb from Dr. Strangelove and blowing up the world from Escape From Planet of the Apes (because I want my film to be the final word in war movies).



(In the comments, I invite you to post your favorite war scene that you’d like to see in the greatest war movie ever)

Ah, that’s a great war film.  It covers a variety of aspects of war, sees how it all works together, brings great flimmaking, deep emotional drama,  intense action, comedic elements and a bit of a dig at war all in one film.  But who could make a film like that?  Who could make it interesting?  And who would be able to keep all these different elements from contradicting one another to make a coherent film out of a mess of themes?



Of course, Stephen Spielberg.   Or at least Spielberg back in the day.  The Spielberg who made Close Encounters or Raiders of the Lost Ark, he could do it.  Saving Private Ryan had a great opening sequence, but it didn’t carry that intensity throughout the rest of the film.  But if Spielberg was at the top of his game, he could do it.

Honestly, I had thought that the best Spielberg moves were behind us.  I will always appreciate his early masterpieces, but even A.I.: Artificial Intelligence, which I love, was admittedly mixed in tone and theme.  Schindler’s List was the final great Spielberg film, and although it takes place at war time, it isn’t really a war film, but a Holocaust film, which I consider to be a different animal.  But War Horse proved all my assumptions wrong.



War Horse is that perfect war movie. It can carry different emotions and different themes because instead of telling the story of one soldier, or one troop,  or the story behind a war, it uses a horse as a means to carry us from one aspect of World War I to another.  Although I might be overly praising Spielberg in this review, at least equal credit should be given to the screenwriters, Richard Curtis and Lee Hall, who took a book and magnificently brought a complex story to the screen, so that the group of children I saw the film with were in turns enraptured and shocked, both silenced and unable to stop talking about what was happening on the screen.

Wait, did I say children?  At a war movie?  Yes, children.  There are some intense sequences in the film, and a young child wouldn’t understand what was going on, but a ten year old and up would be entranced by this marvelous film.  I brought my eleven year old daughter to it, and while she was disappointed by the absence of blood, she loved the cinematography and the story almost brought her to tears.  Almost.

I had no such option as being simply “dusty eyed”.  No, the tears rolled freely down my face as the final set of sequences occurred.  In fact, I would say that the final half hour of this film is probably the most moving cinematic experience I’ve had with a 2011 film.  No, War Horse isn’t going to be my favorite film of the year.  But if it were a less magnificent year in film, it certainly would be. 



Did I cry because it was manipulative?  Oh, yeah, it manipulated me.  In the same magical way Close Encounters does or Schindler’s List.  It wasn’t cheap sentiment.  It earned it.  It gave me time to feel for the characters, even a couple horses, and the final sequences gave me a couple surprises I didn’t expect.  My daughter said, “I knew it would end like that” and I gave her a list of the things we couldn’t expect, and she agreed.   Yes, sentiment wins the day, but why not? 

It is a rare animal (so to speak) to have a war film that determines to show the good in every man instead of the evil.  And isn’t it true that in war the altruistic and  compassion could be seen as well as the evil monster that lurks in the human breast?  I wish that we would have more films about saints and not just monsters.  Why can’t we have heroes that sacrifice themselves dramatically as well as those who blow other people up?  War Horse shows us that it is possible to have an immensely entertaining and satisfying film about persistence and charity and generosity and even friendship between enemies.  Because of the short story nature of the film, it could give more opportunity to this side of humanity than otherwise could be done.  We have a scene in no man’s land that reflects the true story behind the film Joyeux Noel, another that borrows some of the intensity of Saving Private Ryan,  camradarie between officers that reminded me strongly of another great war film, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp.  But we also have an amazingly emotional scene having little to do with war for the first half hour of the film that is a story or rural England and daily struggle between the classes. 



What more can I say about the film? So much more.  I find, for myself, that it is the great movies I can’t stop talking about, and the poor films I have difficulty to say anything at all about.  And I could write pages about War Horse.  But it wouldn’t be fair to do an analysis of this film.  It is all there, and any child could appreciate this film.  I could write an essay on class struggle in the film, on the unique perspective of the “enemy” troops,  on the moral message.  But I couldn’t write it near as well as it is simply presented in the film.

Just go watch it.  In the theatre.  Bring your kids ten and up.  And bring a hanky. 



Thursday, July 21, 2011

Heroes: Gladiator and Lawrence of Arabia



In the ancient world, one of the most popular forms of literature was hero-stories.  Heracles was the greatest of these tales, but Theseus and Perseus were marvelous culminating in the epic of Odysseus.  The love of hero-stories has never abated.  One thing about us epic-loving, Hollywood-style film goers: we love our heroes.  We like them to be gruff, manly and ready to face down any and all dangers.  We love our heroines, too, they’re fine in their feminine, maternal manner (Ripley, Erin Brockovich), but heroes can get the heart pounding and ready to do battle in whatever realm we do battle in.  Indiana Jones, James Bond, Robin Hood.  Some actors are just destined to play heroes: Denzel Washington , John Wayne, Bruce Willis, Charlton Heston.  To watch them is inspiring and their exploits are powerful.



There is a form of epic which focuses on a single hero and really tells the story through their eyes.  This give us the opportunity and the story develops as we see the action from their persepective.  They are a kind of a bio pic, except often the hero is fictional (not that most bio pics aren’t fictional).  Frankly, the Ten Commandments is one of these stories, as well as Braveheart  and Rocky.  One of the great examples of a recent version of this story is Gladiator, the fictional story of Maximus, a general whose only desire was to go home to his wife and family.  Unfortunately, through political intrigue and the mechanizations of an evil Roman prince, he ended up without his family or farm, enslaved and forced to fight.



One of the great aspects of the film is the complexity of Maximus’ character.  His motivation shifts from scene to scene, even as our motivations for what we do changes in slightly different circumstances.  He isn’t bent on revenge throughout the entire film, neither is he some sad sack who just does whatever comes his way (of course, if that was the case, he’d make a pretty poor hero).  Even as a slave, he bends the circumstances around him.  And in the end, he turns the whole empire upside down.  


It is a marvelous performance by Russell Crowe, but even greater is the direction by Ridley Scott.  One of the most telling transformations is the brightness of Spain, even in the midst of overwhelming sorrow, to the darkness of Rome, despite the grandeur of a victor’s parade.   The way the story was told was perfect.  I watched the extended cut and while there could have been some trimming, there isn’t a scene that isn’t necessary, that doesn’t forward the story.  And while the conclusion might be inevitable, we believe that it was in serious danger.  A powerful film and worthy of honor.
Are you not entertained? 

One of the most powerful aspects of the film for me was the bloody entertainment that was demanded.  The people wanted blood, wanted death and the master of the gladiators (masterfully played by Oliver Reed) gave it to them. But isn't this the position of Ridley Scott as well?  Isn't he just granting his audience what they wanted, even though it is a bloody, horrific show?  Yet, the film implies, to woo the populace with blood is akin to democracy, the hidden secret of power.  Whether warriors or gladiators or heroes of any sort, this is the stuff of power, the building blocks of nations. Ultimately, a nation is a shared narrative of heroism that a large group of people all sense that they participated in.  



But the greatest cinema hero, in my estimation, was the focus of David Lean’s epic of 1962: Lawrence of Arabia.  The debate over the “true” Lawrence is due partly to the power and majesty of this film which depicts Lawrence as a charismatic genius, tortured megalomaniac, brilliant madman and physically impervious warrior, who died in a motorcycle wreck near his home in England.  The film not only depicts Lawrence as changing but as contradictory and impulsive. 



Most heroes, like Maximus, are solid, powerful, a brick wall. O’Toole’s Lawrence, however, is sometimes  doubtful and broken.  His greatest later deeds would not have occurred were he not coerced by those around him.  Lawrence of Arabia’s approach seems more realistic.  A hero is not a hero on his own, but must have support and help to be that hero.  And once that support falters, so does the hero.

Peter O’Toole of course deserves acclaim, but so do his co-stars Omar Sharif, Anthony Quinn, Alec Guinness and Jack Hawkins, who try to piece together Lawrence even while they try to manipulate him to their causes.   The great mystery of the film is who Lawrence was, what made him tick.  It seems that the answers the film gave was adventure and glory.



But I think a significant aspect of the film is the un-ending self-confidence of the man.  That no matter how many obstacles or failures Lawrence faced, his achievements occurred because he knew that they could be done by no one else but himself.   That no one else would even think of them because they were too outlandish to even consider.  Only a man who knew he could not fail would succeed in such accomplishments.

One of the last lines in the film give us wisdom about heroes and what they can actually accomplish: “Young men make wars, and the virtues of war are the virtues of young men. Courage and hope for the future. Then old men make the peace. And the vices of peace are the vices of old men. Mistrust and caution. It must be so.”  Heroes are powerful, but heroes cannot build community of normal people, because, frankly they are not normal and do not know how to be normal.  Heroes do great things and accomplish much.  But when it is time for small things, heroes are not welcome.  In the end, heroes must fail.  Their accomplishments must rot.  Were it not for these heroes, the more solid, quieter accomplishments could not have occurred.  But they must step aside.



For this reason, in both of these films, the hero must do what they must do and then step aside.  Even like The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.  In order to accomplish a greater, more peaceful West, John Wayne must do his accomplishments and step aside for Jimmy Stewart to be the statesman.   A true hero knows when to change the world, but also when to ride into the sunset.