Lawrence of Arabia: The Balcony Scene, Redux

2012 has been the year of Lawrence of Arabia. This blog's favorite movie celebrated its 50th anniversary with a theatrical release, a beautifully-remastered Blu Ray, an homage in Prometheus, and assorted other goodies. All year I've been geeking out like a Tolkien fan waiting for The Hobbit, be it blogging interminably, re-reading Seven Pillars of Wisdom or, honest to God, making a Lawrence t-shirt. Thank my friends and family effusively for not throwing me out a plate glass window.

Anyway... Last Friday I received Lawrence's 50th Anniversary Collector's Edition Blu-Ray. This gargantuan set comes with a three-disc Blu-Ray, along with an 88 page making of book (lots of nice pictures), a remastered copy of the original soundtrack (cool, but I prefer the City of Prague Philharmonic's re-recording) and a 70mm film frame. Mine is a shot of Lawrence just before the Tafas Massacre - as good a frame as any.

Among the goodies, of course, is the newly-restored balcony scene. I've dissected this piece at length here, judging solely by its transcript. Having now actually seen it, I'll offer further commentary.

The scene runs about five minutes in length. It starts with Allenby informing Lawrence "there's blood on your back" and continues until "the best of them won't come for money." Thus we see not only extended footage, but alternate editing and presentation of the sequence.

The editing differences proved jarring. This version dissolves from Allenby's "tell me what happened" to Lawrence and Allenby chatting on the balcony. After the added footage it cuts to Bentley and Dryden's brief argument, then back into Allenby saying "Not many people have a destiny" - thus, even later than in the existing film. Besides which, the early dissolve jars with the hard cut later. It's a sloppy, irritating juxtaposition.

Then there's the dubbing. Charles Gray sounds absolutely nothing like Jack Hawkins. I know Gray dubbed Hawkins in films after the latter lost his voice to cancer, but doing that for a whole film is different. Having bits of Hawkins dialogue book-ending the new footage makes an already drastic difference insurmountable. On this basis alone it's easy to see why Robert Harris and Co. didn't reinstate this sequence in '89, and why it was good to leave it as an extra.

Don't believe me? Here's a short 40 second clip via Youtube:

Adrian Turner suggests this scene was originally cut because David Lean couldn't fit it into the narrative. This is borne out, I think, by the editing style. It just will not do to have the dissolve and then, much later, a hard cut. This makes the time elapse unclear and throws off the pacing. Did Lawrence tell Allenby the whole story of his Deraa defilement? How long was Dryden hanging around Allenby's office before exiting? This is unusually sloppy work from Lean, himself an ex-editor, but attests to the scene's problems.

Why view the scene? It's one of the few times Allenby lets down his guard and shows himself a human being. Jack Hawkins lost this and at least two other scenes in earlier cuts of Lawrence, which must have rankled. It provides Lawrence more pointed motivation for his final change of heart. It shows more clearly the paternal relationship between the two men - Lawrence eager for a father figure, Allenby exploiting that weakness. And as expected from Robert Bolt, it contains elegant dialogue.

But this points up its problems, too. It's primarily a character scene, interesting but not strictly functional. While not overly long, at its specific place in the film - Lawrence's last attempt to opt out of his "destiny" - it slows things down considerably. In other words, it's that most unfortunate thing: a beautiful superfluity.

So my curiosity is satisfied yet disappointed. I'm glad I've seen this scene, yet it wasn't all I'd hoped it would be. Oh well, unreasonable expectations and all that.

Exit 2012! I'll have my best and worst movies post up a few days late, but rest assured it's coming. Here's to another year of fabulous blogging. Happy 2013 everyone!

Savant/Lawrence

"I'm not an accountant, thank God. Have we $65 for the Blu-Ray, Dryden?"

Glenn Erickson (aka DVD Savant) reviews the upcoming Blu-Ray release(s) of Lawrence of Arabia here. Only six days away in the US!

For a complete run-down of special features, check out the Amazon page. Too bad it's sixty-five frigging dollars! At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I hope to somehow see the seduction scene, be it through Youtube, Netflix or other means.

The past few days have been busy: work, America re-electing a president, I somehow contracted shingles. Not much time for movies. Speaking of Jack Hawkins, I'll try and review of The Cruel Sea soon.

The Miracle is Accomplished: Seeing Lawrence of Arabia in Theaters

What do you mean "no outside snacks"?

I first saw Lawrence of Arabia on a small television, on AMC in pan-scan and with commercials. It didn't make much impression on me. Sometime in 2005 I revisited it on DVD and fell in love. For me, it encapsulates everything cinema can accomplish: great acting, cerebral writing, a fascinating hero, exciting action scenes, breathtaking music and of course, incomparable photography. I must have seen it at least a dozen times since: on video, television, even split up over three nights mini-series style. Yet until Thursday I hadn't viewed Lawrence in its true format: the big screen.

I've spent a lot of time analyzing the film lately, so let's not waste time doing that. This post will be mostly personal, with some discussion of its technical presentation. After all, you don't see your favorite movie in theaters every day.

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I was ecstatic, to say the least, to hear Lawrence would get a one-day theatrical release. As early as August I started making plans. Any theaters within ten hours' drive showing it? Yes, the AMC Loews at the Homestead Waterfront! Now can I get off work in time to see it? Should I bring friends? Would a meteor strike Pittsburgh that day?

I convinced three friends to join me, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. I purchased our tickets a month ahead of time. I managed to convince my employer to let me leave work two hours early. I even printed an event t-shirt from Cafe Press. Needless to say, it was a big deal.

October 4th was an immaculate day: sunny, low 70s, fall foliage dotting the landscape. I arrived with my friend Greta at the Waterfront around 6:00. There we met Pittsburgh denizens Joe and Dan for a quick supper. Inevitably, we argued about politics for awhile while scarfing down Bar Louie boneless wings. Unfortunately, supper caused us to be a mite late and we settled for left row seats. The theater was surprisingly full, the audience divided about even between older viewers and 20-30 year olds.

Fandango treated us to several "special features." First an interminable featurette by Martin Scorsese, which managed to blow every big shot, memorable line and plot point in about ten minutes. Even having seen Lawrence many times I resented it. Then some vintage newsreels and a short Omar Sharif introduction. Then the Overture came crashing down and the film began.

First, the restorers did a fine job. Projected in 4K digital, Lawrence really shined. Almost every shot was clear, colors and details jumping off the screen. I appreciated many details I'd missed before. The first helicopter shot of the Arab army on the move, barely making out the camels' tiny legs. Lawrence appearing as a black pinprick when returning with Gassim. The richly ornamented walls, with Roman statuary and Grecian wall murals, in Allenby's Jerusalem HQ. A mounted Arab riding into the town hall amidst the chaos. Anthony Quinn's unfortunate nose. These observations incomparably enriched my experience.

Details are one thing: the overall experience another. I've always enjoyed the desert photography aesthetically, for its beautiful composition. Seeing it in theaters though was a revelation. Lean's mis-en-scene of impassible sand flats, vast craggy canyons looming overhead, and ever present sun prove powerfully immersive. My jaw dropped on the Wadi Rumm reveal: the blaring music, the mammoth red cliffs and the endless expanse of tents. Needless to say the battles were amazing, especially the charge through Aqaba.

A few gripes, some probably the theater's fault. In a few scenes, the frame seemed either cropped or compressed. The soundtrack sounded dim in spots (though not during action scenes, thankfully). In a few scenes (but not many), there was some fuzziness in background details. The day-for-night scenes also seemed over-corrected. Some of the awkward edits and splicing from the '89 restoration remain, especially Bentley's introduction. These were very minor blips though in an otherwise impressive showing.

Watching Lawrence with an audience was something else. I've always watched this movie alone, or with my dad on one occasion. Lawrence invokes feelings of near-religious contemplation, interrupted by bathroom breaks. My general reaction is one of awe and amazement, being bowled over by beautiful photography and brilliant acting.

An audience, on the other hand, wants to be entertained. Initially I was concerned as my fellow viewers laughed and as my friends talked next to me. As the movie went on though, I realized everyone else was engaging with it as they would The Avengers or The Dark Knight. Groggy got the hint: lighten up and enjoy the show.

Certainly the audience enjoyed it. They laughed at all the right moments: Lawrence's sparring with General Murray, Auda's reaction to Lawrence flouncing in his robes, even some of Farraj and Daud's antics. Some scenes did inspire the expected awe, especially Ali's entrance at the well. From their reactions (and chatter during intermission), one could tell they liked Lawrence, were immersed in the desert and enjoying the adventure.

As the second half got darker the audience shifted accordingly. The Deraa scene stood out in this regard. Its plot importance (and Jose Ferrer's marvelous acting) aside, it's not the scene that comes to mind when I remember Lawrence. Yet for the whole five minutes you could hear a pin drop. I can't remember experiencing such palpable tension from any scene in a theater. There were audible expressions of shock and disgust during the massacre, especially Lawrence gazing at his blood-soaked dagger. One really registered the ending mixture of tragedy and emptiness, too.

My friends certainly enjoyed the film. They were intrigued enough to pepper me with questions about the movie's accuracy and clarify Lawrence's motivations (so much as anyone could). Most of their favorite scenes came from the first half: Ali at the well, Gassim's rescue, the charge on Aqaba. Dan seemed intrigued by the military/political aspects, while Joe appreciated the desert scenery and symbolism of Lawrence's costume. Greta noted the movie's lack of romance and its thematic depth. They did however criticize its portrayal of the Bedouin.

All named Lawrence as a major factor in their enjoyment. Remarking on the last scene, Dan noted the tragedy of Lawrence's inability to join Arab culture or fulfill his dreams. Greta found Lawrence's complex and enigmatic personality the movie's most memorable aspect. I'd imagine Lawrence's fascinating protagonist accounts for its enduring popularity as much as its spectacle.

In sum, I'm happy to have finally seen Lawrence of Arabia in theaters: scratch one item off the list. Additionally I'm glad to see it has the power to move a contemporary audience, enough for them to applaud over the end credits. I overheard two college-aged girls, of all people, saying "they don't make movies like this today!" I couldn't agree more.

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That concludes this round of Lawrence-related articles. I thank my readers for indulging me the past few weeks; if you've learned something through these posts, all the better. Stay tuned for insights and reviews of other films soon.

PS: If any readers saw Lawrence on Thursday, please share your experience in the comments section!

Previous posts in this series:

• Another Lawrence: Terence Rattigan's Ross (1960) 
• Lawrence of Arabia: Seven Scenes from Seven Pillars of Wisdom
• Lawrence of Arabia: The Film as Biography 
• "Common humanity's the one thing you can't have."

Lawrence of Arabia: Seven Scenes from Seven Pillars of Wisdom

Is Lawrence of Arabia historically accurate?

As further preparation for Lawrence of Arabia, I spent this week re-reading T.E. Lawrence's memoir Seven Pillars of Wisdom (London: Penguin Classics edition, 2000). Whatever its strict accuracy (and one must allow for embellishment and subjectivity in memoirs), it's an engrossing read on several levels: as literature, a military chronicle, an exotic travelogue, a political analysis, a psychological self-portrait. It's easy to understand how David Lean saw potential for an exciting film. But how does the movie compare to its source material?

Rather than an excruciating line-by-line analysis (see again Jeremy Wilson), this article examines seven key scenes from Lawrence of Arabia based on their relationship to Seven Pillars. We'll view the filmmakers' choices through three general criteria: 1. How does the scene draw from Lawrence's writings? 2. Is it accurate or at least within the bounds of reasonable dramatic license? 3. What dramatic purposes do any changes serve?

1. Ali at the Well 

Perhaps Lawrence's most memorable scene is Sherif Ali's introduction at Matsurah Well: a black blob appearing on the horizon and slowly approaching, Lawrence and his guide Tafas watching in trepidation. He shoots Tafas, member of the rival Beni Salem tribe; Ali is a Harith, their blood enemy. Ali takes Lawrence's service pistol, previously gifted to Tafas. Lawrence then denounces Ali as a murderer and continues his journey to Feisal alone.

This scene draws on an incident in Seven Pillars (81-83), but the two depictions couldn't be more different. The real Sherif Ali traveled with a slave, and the two switched identities to fool Tafas. Lawrence treats the incident comically, far from the movie's deadly encounter. Lawrence also shows that Bedouin allowed common use of desert wells, even among unfriendly tribes. Here, Lean readily jettisons reality for artistic effect.

Lean introduces several thematic strands. It establishes Ali and his bipolar relationship with Lawrence. Lawrence starts as civilized man disgusted by the "savage" Ali; the two develop inversely throughout the film, reversing roles in the final act. The idea of Arabs torn "tribe against tribe," and Lawrence's efforts to unite them for a common cause, is dramatically established. Regardless of realism, the scene is both artistically impressive and dramatically important.

2. Feisal's Tent 

From his first meeting with Prince Feisal, Lawrence felt him "the leader who would bring the Arab Revolt to full glory" (92). As portrayed by Alec Guinness, Feisal embodies Arabia's glorious past and dreams of independence, with a shade of worldly cynicism. He has no illusions about British war aims and ultimately accepts an unfavorable compromise.

Lean and writer Robert Bolt draw loosely on Seven Pillars but use this encounter as a dramatic springboard. Obviously it's an important scene for Lawrence and the other characters. It's also crucial in delineating themes and plot devices that will recur throughout the film.

Lean introduces Colonel Brighton, a composite character representing military convention. Brighton emphasizes the importance of discipline, disputed by Ali (who wants modern weapons) and Feisal (who doubts its value). Lawrence immediately (and inaccurately) disagrees with Brighton and advocate a third way: guerrilla warfare. This piques Feisal's interest, allowing him to confide his fears to Lawrence that the English "hunger for Arabia."

In the subsequent "miracle" scene (drawing loosely on Lawrence's interlude at Wadi Ais), Lawrence realizes the Arabs must move north and seize Aqaba to regain the initiative. This is misleading. Contrary to Brighton's claim that the Royal Navy has "better things to do," they worked closely with the Arabs in seizing the port of Wejh (January 1917). After this, Lawrence says in Seven Pillars, "the Arab movement... had passed beyond danger of collapse" (169). Aqaba was not then a desperate gambit but a logical next step.

Dramatically, this scene places Arab and British war aims in opposition. The Arabs want complete independence; the British want to limit the uprising, in furtherance of imperial goals. Lawrence must choose one side or the other, or else be hopelessly conflicted. There's much truth to this characterization, though oddly Lean makes Lawrence ignorant of the Sykes-Picot Agreement until much later! This scene is dubious historically but provides a solid basis for further drama.

3. Gassim: Nothing is Written 

One of Lawrence's best scenes is the rescue of Gassim, an Arab tribesman lost on the road to Aqaba. This sequence, strikingly shot by Lean, closely follows Seven Pillars' description (260-264). Shortly afterwards Lawrence eschews his uniform for white robes, the Arabs accepting him as "El Aurens" - the cornerstone of his legend. Here Lean deviates from Seven Pillars: Auda abu Tayi (who in reality joined the Aqaba expedition at its onset) wonders why Lawrence risked his life for a man "not worth a camel's price" (263), while Lawrence had been wearing Arab robes long before.

Dramatically this scene serves two major purposes. First, as mentioned, it marks Lawrence's acceptance by the Arabs, especially Ali, who soon becomes an inseparable friend. Second, it highlights Lawrence's first triumph over Fate. Ignoring Arab fatalism, Lawrence proves he can overcome long odds through determination: "Nothing is written!" This minor triumph sets the stage for greater victories at Aqaba and Damascus.

Lean later provides an ironic coda when Lawrence executes Gassim for murdering a Howeitat (tellingly, with Tafas's revolver). "It was written then," intones Auda, reasserting Fate's power over Choice. It also introduces a new theme - Lawrence's enjoyment of killing. The real Lawrence executed another Arab, Hamed, for a similar crime earlier in Seven Pillars. Conflating the two events is acceptable dramatic license.

4. Meeting Allenby 

Lawrence spends a single page detailing his first encounter with General Edmund Allenby. He enthuses about his new commander, "physically large and confident" (330) and more willing to help the Revolt than his predecessor General Murray. Lawrence's admiration for Allenby, both man and military commander, is clear throughout Seven Pillars, even describing him as a father figure.

Lean transforms this "comic interview" into one of the film's pivotal sequences. Lasting nearly 15 minutes, it serves a myriad of functions. Bolt elucidates Aqaba's strategic importance, quoting Lawrence's arguments in Seven Pillars (cf. 281). The British officers who, just a scene before, inundated Lawrence with racial slurs now cheer him as a hero. Besides introducing Allenby and developing Brighton (who gains genuine admiration for Lawrence), it probes Lawrence's psyche at a key moment in the narrative.

Lawrence comes across as a broken, neurotic wreck. His pride in capturing Aqaba has dissipated, after losing his servant Daud to quicksand and his encounter with racist officers. Worse, Lawrence realizes his own blood lust, "enjoying" his execution of Gassim and fearing its future implications. Exhausted and afraid he desperately begs for reassignment. He has the bad luck of meeting Allenby, here not a supportive superior with "confidence... like a wall" (553) but a deceitful villain.

Where Murray dismissed Lawrence as "the kind of creature I can't stand," Allenby immediately recognizes Lawrence's military value. A guerrilla army harassing Turkish supply lines is a boon for future offensives. He also pegs Lawrence's Achilles heel: vanity. Dismissing Lawrence's concerns, he elicits complements from Brighton (officer), Dryden (civilian) and a Mr. Perkins (enlisted man), covering all bases of flattery. Then he holds a public military conference, expounding Lawrence's genius to his entire staff. Thus Allenby's defining traits: military skill and psychological perfidy.

Lean and Bolt re-introduce earlier anti-war/imperialist themes. Lawrence suspects Britain won't honor their promises, an inquiry Allenby and Dryden both dodge. The scene ends with Allenby, Brighton and Dryden deciding not to give the Arabs artillery. For now, Lawrence is satiated by vague promises of post-war freedom, and concrete promises of arms and money. His ego flushed by adulation, he returns to the desert.

5. Deraa Is The Key

Surely the most traumatic incident in Seven Pillars involves Lawrence's capture, torture and gang rape by Turkish soldiers in Deraa in November of 1917. Many historians doubt this incident actually happened, a debate beyond this blog's scope. Lean and Bolt make it a central scene in Lawrence, but distort both the background and its effects significantly.

Lawrence's reasons for entering Deraa were banal. Deraa (in present-day Syria) was an important railroad junction which Lawrence hoped to raid. While scouting in town he was arrested by the Turks and taken to a Turkish officer - supposedly Hajim Bey, the garrison commander. The officer "began to fawn on me... (offering to) make me his orderly... if I would love him" (452). Lawrence refused his advances, then was beaten and sexually assaulted by the Bey's soldiers. Lawrence escapes, and later learns that he was betrayed by Syrian nationalist Abd el-Kadr.

This incident obviously traumatized Lawrence, leaving deep physical and psychological scars. His post-war masochism likely originated with Deraa, and he remained incapable of sexual feelings afterwards. It's easy to overstate its effects, however. In Seven Pillars, Lawrence scarcely refers to the incident again. He's more distraught by a military failure, his continuing guilt over his liaison role and treachery by an Arab colleague. This is what convinced him to "beg Allenby to find me some smaller part elsewhere" (514), not trauma over Deraa.

Lean's restrained depiction of Lawrence's mistreatment is understandable. But Bolt's portrayal of Lawrence borders on ridiculous. Here, Lawrence and Ali stride into Deraa alone, Lawrence apparently thinking his mere presence will inspire a rising. Aqaba convinced him he can work "miracles," further inflamed by Allenby's flattery and subsequent successes. "Do you think I'm just anybody?" he asks Ali before embarking on his mission. This is utterly ridiculous hubris, and one of the film's weaker moments.

Bolt thought "Deraa is the key" to all of Lawrence's subsequent actions: his attempted resignation, the massacre at Tafas, his psychological collapse. In this he followed many biographers, who placed undue emphasis on Lawrence's psychosexual side. It seems altogether too convenient an explanation, if dramatically handy for a screenwriter.

6. Tafas Massacre 

Seven Pillars graphically describes the Tafas Massacre, a horrific incident during Allenby's Megiddo offensive. The Arabs brutally slaughter 2,000 Turkish soldiers, many after surrendering, in retaliation for sacking a local village. Some biographers shield Lawrence from responsibility, but Lawrence makes his own culpability explicit: "By my orders we took no prisoners" (653). Lean provides a reasonable dramatization of the event, but delivers a suspect characterization of Lawrence.

This scene brings Lawrence's neuroses to a head. Bolt offers a Freudian explanation for Tafas, Lawrence avenging his degradation at Deraa through massacre, now killing gleefully, surrounded by a bodyguard of hired killers. His descent into animal barbarism is contrasted with Ali's increasingly "civilized" behavior; the latter even echoes Lawrence's taunt from their first meeting: "Surely you know the Arabs are a barbarous people!" Lawrence ends the scene blood-soaked and mentally broken, having reached the apotheosis he'd tried to avoid.

As mentioned previously, Lean and Bolt largely draw on Anthony Nutting's biography of Lawrence. In Seven Pillars, Lawrence largely accepts the carnage as a fact of tribal warfare. The Turks after all precipitated it by murdering Arab civilians, initiating collective anger and brutal vengeance. Soon after the Bedouin captured Deraa and continued towards Damascus. The movie however treats Tafas as a hollow triumph, needless bloodshed born of one man's psychosis.

7. Damascus and the Arab Council

The worst scenes, historically-speaking, come at film's end. Lean and Bolt's version of post-war Damascus is recognizable only through a few colorful anecdotes gleaned from Seven Pillars. History is far more complex and interesting than what Lean and Bolt offer.

Lawrence describes raucous scenes in Seven Pillars, the town hall "packed with a swaying mob" (666) and arguing over Damascus's governance. The real threat, however, was neither Sherifian incompetence nor British indifference, but Abd el-Kadr: the same man who'd betrayed Lawrence at Deraa. Kadr and his brothers launched several attempted coups to undermine Feisal's authority, resulting in several skirmishes with Feisal's men. Kadr was eventually killed in November 1918 while imprisoned. The issue, therefore, was not (in Lawrence's account) tribalism but an ambitious man and his followers.

Far worse is the depiction of the Arabs as utterly incompetent. They appear as rubes baffled by machinery, allowing Damascus to catch fire (really set by Turkish troops) and Turkish wounded to die in hospital. In reality, the Arabs "quickly collected the nucleus of a staff and plunged ahead as a team" (671), creating a police force, fire brigades, mechanics and sanitation committees. The movie recounts Lawrence's encounter with an enraged British medical officer ("This is outrageous!"), focusing on its irony: after a movie of searching for his identity, Lawrence is mistaken for an Arab. What a time to highlight this!

Lawrence's narrative ends with him exiting Damascus, as does the movie. The situation left behind however is quite different. Feisal's government remained in power until 1921, when France ousted them at bayonet point. No conniver in Allied perfidy, Feisal fought the French tooth-and-nail before being placed as a contentious client on Iraq's throne. Allenby seemed genuinely to regret his role, doing his best to balance British, French and Arab interests as ordered. Neither man is fairly characterized here.

This anti-climax logically concludes the movie's anti-war themes and recurring hubris. Again, a major victory can't come without an offsetting failure, and bloodshed must amount to nothing. Perhaps we're to draw inferences about modern pan-Arabism; Nasser's United Arab Republic collapsed while the film was in production. Regardless, this scene is not only inaccurate but insulting, as this ostensibly anti-imperial film falls back on "White Man's burden" stereotypes. Here's one instance where the dramatic license proves genuinely regrettable.

Conclusion

Like all historical and literary adaptations, Lawrence of Arabia often sacrifices accuracy for artistic effect. In many cases it's justifiable or transcends the source. In several instances, however, it's highly questionable or even deleterious. Still, even the highly questionable scenes listed have some basis in Seven Pillars of Wisdom. As an adaptation, Lawrence is probably no better or worse than Hollywood's usual efforts.

Previous articles in this series:

• Lawrence of Arabia: The Film as Biography - analyzing Lawrence's portrayal of Lawrence
• "Common humanity's the one thing you can't have" - analyzing the "seduction scene"

Lawrence of Arabia: The Film as Biography

Reel Lawrence (Peter O'Toole) vs. Real Lawrence (T.E. Shaw)

With Lawrence of Arabia's 50th anniversary re-release approaching, fans may appreciate some perspective on this classic film. This will be the first of (hopefully) several pieces analyzing the film, from both historical and cinematic perspectives, in the coming weeks.

A logical starting point is the portrayal of T.E. Lawrence. I groped towards this theme in an old essay here, but since then I've read nearly 30 biographies of Lawrence, many reviewed on this blog. I feel qualified as a learned amateur if not expert to analyze the film's historicity. While authorized biographer Jeremy Wilson is harshly critical of its historical errors, I'm inclined to take a more nuanced view, viewing it through a dual prism as history buff and movie lover.

Is the film's Lawrence a reasonable interpretation of the historical figure or a complete invention? Before examining the character himself, we must consider briefly the film's background: who made it and when it was made. With all due respect to director David Lean, producer Sam Spiegel and Peter O'Toole, I feel the screenwriters are most central to this analysis.

Background

The Screenwriters

Imagining Lawrence: Michael Wilson (left) and Robert Bolt. (Wilson picture c/o Gary Crowdus)

Both Michael Wilson, who wrote early drafts of the script, and Robert Bolt, who delivered the final product, left a personal mark on Lawrence. The two writers differed in their approach: Wilson hoped for a broader political portrait of the Arab Revolt, while Bolt's focus was Lawrence himself. Both harbored left-wing sentiments that influenced their view both of Lawrence and the Arab Revolt generally.

Wilson's screenwriting career (producing classics like Salt of the Earth and Friendly Persuasion) was aborted by HUAC. His Communist affiliations led Wilson to be blacklisted through most of the '50s. After co-writing (uncredited) Lean and Spiegel's Bridge on the River Kwai he was eager to receive recognition for a major film. Wilson, however, couldn't accommodate Lean's vision of Lawrence, and Robert Bolt received sole credit on the finished film. Not until 1995, after Spiegel, Lean and Bolt were all deceased, did Wilson receive credit.

Bolt was a school teacher-turned-playwright who'd just hit it big with his twin successes of The Tiger and the Horse and A Man for All Seasons - plays which examined historical/political issues through an individual lens. Spiegel initially planned for Bolt to "touch up" Wilson's script, but Bolt spent over a year reshaping the screenplay. He was an active member of the Committee for Nuclear Disarmament, a political commitment which jeopardized the film: Bolt was arrested for an anti-nuclear demonstration while writing the script. A furious Spiegel bailed Bolt out, humiliating the socialist playwright.

The controversy of "who wrote Lawrence of Arabia" is definitively examined by Joel Hodson's Cineaste article. Suffice it to say Wilson provided the script's narrative outline while Bolt contributed the dialogue and interpretation of Lawrence. Both, however, viewed Lawrence as "a romantic fascist" (Bolt) who mixed personal motives with military duty and love for primitive Arab culture; the Revolt itself as a classic case of imperial perfidy. In the midst of the Cold War, when the Middle East was again a battleground for great powers, and the aftermath of 1956's Suez Crisis, where Abdel Nasser's Egypt humiliated post-imperial Britain, Lawrence's message held deep contemporary resonance.


Biographical Context

Critical biographers: Richard Aldington (left) and Anthony Nutting

In his Apologia (pp. 505-509 of Adrian Turner's Robert Bolt: Scenes From Two Lives), Bolt claimed Lawrence's Seven Pillars of Wisdom was his only major source for the film. This seems hard to credit, however. The movie roughly owes its narrative contours to Seven Pillars but draws heavily on the contentious biographical debate of 1962. Two biographies in particular, written shortly prior to the film, likely influenced Bolt and Wilson.

In 1955, novelist Richard Aldington published Lawrence of Arabia: A Biographical Inquiry. Aldington brutally deconstructed the Lawrence legend, depicting his subject as every shade of cad: a liar, egomaniac, neurotic, homosexual and literal bastard. Aldington had a valid point that biographies up to then were uncritical and uniformly flattering. But his vitriolic tone, evident personal grudge against Lawrence ("the appropriate hero for his class and epoch") and willingness to always believe the worst of his subject led to bitter denunciation. Nonetheless, his claims seeped into public consciousness, difficult to dislodge even today.

A more direct influence was Anthony Nutting. A former official in Anthony Eden's Conservative government, he resigned in the wake of 1956's Suez Crisis. David Lean enlisted Nutting as a Middle Eastern adviser on the film, but Nutting found his advice mostly discarded. Most specifically, Nutting objected strongly to Sherif Ali killing Lawrence's guide at the well, feeling it a gross distortion of Bedouin culture.

Nutting published a slim volume called Lawrence of Arabia: The Man and the Motive shortly before the film's release. It shows that while the filmmakers largely ignored Nutting's Middle East expertise, they gleaned much from his interpretation of Lawrence. Nutting's depiction of a Lawrence as a self-anointed "Kingmaker," a grandiose neurotic and "rabid masochist" driven over the edge by Deraa matches Bolt/Wilson's interpretation to a T. No doubt Nutting's personal experiences influenced his interpretation of Lawrence's political dilemma.

Whether intentionally or not, Wilson and Bolt appropriated many of Aldington and Nutting's analyses of Lawrence into their scripts. It's quite probably intentional with Nutting, given his early (albeit fractious) association with the film.

Edit (9/17/2012): Reading Steven C. Caton's book Lawrence of Arabia: A Film's Anthropology, it appears Michael Wilson at least studied Aldington while preparing his screenplay (pp. 110-111).

Lawrence as film character

"Do you think I'm just anybody Ali?" Lawrence as egomaniac

With this background in mind, we'll examine the film's Lawrence through his primary character traits.

Egomania/Exhibitionism

Lawrence's defining trait is egomania. He constantly asserts his own importance: "Of course I'm the man for the job!" "We won't rest until they know *I've* taken Aqaba!" At his high points, Lawrence suffers from a God complex. At one point he poses "like a Sun God" (Turner) on a wrecked train as his followers cheer, or when he and Ali walk into Deraa single-handed, evidently hoping by simple presence to provoke an uprising. This is matched with manic-depressive states of self-loathing, as in his return to Jerusalem: "The truth is I'm an ordinary man."

The film also devotes much time to Lawrence's relationship with Jackson Bentley, an American reporter standing in for Lowell Thomas. The two men seem to dislike each other, but find each other useful for their own ends. Bentley is "looking for a hero" to use in propaganda promoting America's entry into World War I. Lawrence is looking for an audience. For all his distaste for Bentley's vulgarity ("He thinks you're a kind of thief!") Lawrence relishes the chance to show off to the world.

Lawrence's ego proves both a blessing and curse. On the one hand, it provides the inspiration for his military achievements. His grandiosity is justified by the capture of Aqaba and his brilliant campaign against the Hejaz Railway. Yet it's also his Achilles heel, as it pushes him into irrational actions like continuing a campaign with a handful of men and strolling into Deraa alone. Most painfully, it allows Allenby to manipulate him for military ends, fanning his fragile ego into borderline dementia.

Outsider Status

Lawrence is depicted as a bumbling buffoon in British company, spilling a colleague's drink and earning the contempt of most. This is matched by Lawrence's ill-fitting uniforms and casual, unmilitary behavior. He's loathed by his superior officers, and his peers treat him as an oddity. Murray doesn't think him a "real man" and loathes his intellectualism. His illegitimate birth, a closely guarded secret, no doubt enhances his inability to fit in.

Lawrence initially seems keen to leave to Cairo, and finds himself at home amongst the Bedouin. Through his exploits he befriends Ali and earns the respect of Feisal, Auda and other Arabs. Yet he still doesn't truly seem to fit in, expressing contempt at low ebbs ("so long will (the Arabs) be a little people" etc.) and viewing himself as fundamentally British. Certainly his capture at Deraa, where he's singled out for complexion, ruins any such impression. Yet his later attempts at fitting in amongst the British are unconvincing.

As Lawrence's abilities come to the fore, he gains the attention (if not respect) of his superiors. Allenby and Dryden both recognize him as a useful tool for their respective military and political ends. The soldiers revere his accomplishments but find the man a puzzle ("I didn't know him well, you know!"). Only Colonel Brighton seems to truly appreciate Lawrence's ability, and still can't claim to truly "know" him. By the final campaign his only remaining cause appears to be himself.

Despite his best efforts, Lawrence remains an outsider. His peers still can't appreciate his dual image. The Damascus Medical Officer denounces Lawrence as a filthy wog at the hospital then shakes his hand in uniform. The Arabs are left bewildered by his self-destructive ennui ("There is only the desert for you"). And his superiors discard him with the war over, all parties "equally glad to be rid of him."

Effeminacy/Homosexuality

One of Richard Aldington's most contentious claims was that Lawrence was a homosexual. At a time when homosexuality was still illegal in Britain, this was an explosive charge, which Lawrence's family and supporters vehemently denied. Though evidence is scarce, it quickly caught on with the public, through Aldington's book and popular media like Terrence Rattigan's play Ross. Sex sells, and an historical figure like Lawrence is hardly immune to gossip or innuendo.

David Lean later claimed "Lawrence was very, if not entirely, homosexual" and Lawrence is as clear as a 1962 film could be. As portrayed by Peter O'Toole, Lawrence displays awkward, effeminate mannerisms. He seems out of place in British uniform and is shown bumbling around Army headquarters, spilling drinks and mincing towards colleagues. When Lawrence receives his Bedouin robes, he prances around laughing giddily, even examining himself in the reflection of his dagger. More stereotype than nuance, the message is nonetheless obvious.

Lawrence's relationship with Farraj and Daud (his mischievous servants) and Sherif Ali also suggest this to a degree. Lawrence's friendship with Ali is central to the drama, with some viewing it as a literal romance. The absence of a female lead, and Lawrence's femininity, lend some credence to this view. However, Ali's proclamations of love towards the end are likely admiration and feeling of kinship than homosexuality. One must be careful not to over-apply critical analysis where a surface level is sufficient.

Sadomasochism

Another key ingredient in Bolt/Wilson's portrait is Lawrence as masochist. Lawrence's first major scene has him putting out a match, proclaiming that "the trick... is not minding that it hurts!" While pondering the Arabs' predicament in the desert, he squeezes a rock in his hand until he bleeds. After Daud's death in quicksand, he staggers through the desert on foot, ignoring Farraj's pleas to share his camel. He also seems fairly unfazed by a Turkish bullet.

This takes a nastier form in later scenes. After Lawrence executes Gassim, he finds to his horror that he "enjoys" killing. This prefigures his torture and rape at Deraa, which he's implied to have enjoyed as well. It finally reaches his apotheosis when he unleashes the Arabs at Tafas, slaughtering a column of Turkish stragglers. Lawrence is shown as a crazed participant in the killing, shooting and stabbing unarmed men with evident glee. After fighting it throughout the film, Lawrence finally gives way to bloodlust after the "citadel of [his] integrity" is violated at Deraa.

Servant of Two Masters

A theme that surely appealed to both Bolt and Wilson is Lawrence's devotion to "England... and to other things." Bolt made a career of characters who tried to "have it two ways," both on stage and screen. Wilson certainly sympathized with Lawrence's being forced to compromise personal belief for state goals.

The film's Lawrence is shown an outcast in British society but seemingly at home in Arabia. Despite his loyalty to the crown and respect for Allenby (whom he views as a father figure), he falls in love with the Bedouin lifestyle and feels personal responsibility to help "gain their freedom." Ultimately he convinces himself that if the Arabs beat the British to Damascus, independence will be theirs. Unfortunately the Arab Council collapses amidst infighting and incompetence, the British calmly waiting to take over. Defeated morally and spiritually, Lawrence is forced off-stage while Allenby and Feisal work out an expedient compromise.


Accuracy

"The most shameless exhibitionist since Barnum and Bailey": the real Lawrence with Lowell Thomas

In sum, Lean, Bolt and Wilson craft an extremely neurotic, tortured and eccentric Lawrence. How accurate is their portrayal? Taking the specific points into account:

• Lawrence's "egomania" is a matter of debate. Depending on the biographer, Lawrence was either a self-promoting charlatan, relatively honest or playfully exaggerating his exploits. In Seven Pillars Lawrence pens a chapter entitled Myself, where he examines his achievements and personality. He writes of his "craving to be famous... and horror to be known to like being known." This is shrewd self-assessment given his ambivalence towards Lowell Thomas, and hiding out in the Royal Air Force while dining with Bernard Shaw and E.M. Forster. Certainly, however, the film's extreme God complex is a gross exaggeration. The circumstances of Lawrence's capture at Deraa were much more banal than the film suggests, and Lawrence's writings (though subjective) generally credit Arabs and fellow British officers where appropriate. An extreme interpretation but in keeping with then-contemporary biographies.
• Lawrence was hardly an eccentric outsider. In fact Lawrence was affable and made friends easily; he got on with most of his colleagues in Cairo, and was respected by his superiors and elders. After the war he found it as easy befriending literati and political leaders as rankers in the RAF and Tank Corps. Nor was Lawrence ill-used, when he'd been entrusted with responsibilities beyond the average Lieutenant: interrogating Turkish POWs, analyzing Arab tribes and attempting to ransom the besieged garrison at Kut.
  Bolt apparently gleaned this from a passage in Seven Pillars where Lawrence claimed to make a nuisance of himself to avoid an undesired posting. Lawrence's penchant for practical jokes rubbed many the wrong way. But this was just one part of his character. He was not an unappreciated genius languishing in a useless job, but a well-respected, experienced junior officer with considerable charm. He was a logical choice for an Arab liaison.
• Lawrence's sexual leanings are impossible to prove. Many find passages of Seven Pillars of Wisdom homoerotic, as when Lawrence describes Bedouin man love in some detail. His relationships with Arab servant Dahoum before the war, and R.A. Guy while serving in the RAF, seem suspect to many. Against this can be weighed his flirtations with Janet Laurie and Clare Sydney Smith, and his claim that he died a virgin.
  Certainly though few have depicted Lawrence as a mincing effeminate. He was strong for his small size and considered tough and masculine. In this regard, the filmmakers go for sensationalism with a shade of unfortunate stereotype.
• Lawrence's masochism is well-established. In the late 1960s John Bruce, one of Lawrence's Tank Corps colleagues, told Sunday Times reporter Philip Knightley that Lawrence had Bruce flog him regularly as punishment for (imagined) sins. Lawrence's brother felt this self-punishment rather than sexual release. Despite this, most biographers are disinclined to view Lawrence as a masochist before Deraa, though he harbored a love of "testing" himself physically with exercise and strict diet.
• Sadism however is unlikely. Nowhere in Seven Pillars does Lawrence claim to have "enjoyed" executing Hamed or the massacre at Tafas. This more resembles Nutting's view of Lawrence unleashing the Arabs in murderous revenge for Deraa than Lawrence's writings. The real Lawrence harbored a "horror of bloodshed," for both practical and personal reasons, but not from secretly liking to kill.
• While many biographers insist on painting Lawrence in absolute terms, harboring one strict loyalty or another, the film's Lawrence torn between British loyalty and promises to the Arabs is reasonably accurate. Certainly Lawrence's writings, from Seven Pillars to diaries and correspondence, evince a great deal of anguish over convincing the Arabs to "fight for us on a lie," leaving him "continually and bitterly ashamed." The portrayal's flawed in particulars (eg., showing Lawrence as ignorant of the Sykes-Picot Agreement) but generally convincing.

The film's major omissions can be briefly summarized. Lawrence's pre-war adventures as an archaeology student go unmentioned, along with his involvement in an "archaeological" survey of the Sinai Peninsula just before the war and previous intelligence work with the Arab Bureau. He did not have the best relationship with General Murray, but then he reported to Generals Clayton and Wingate, not Murray. Of course his post-war career is also omitted. On a superficial level, Peter O'Toole is nearly a foot taller than the historical Lawrence!

Conclusion

"There was something about it I didn't like." - Lawrence as sadist.

The movie's portrayal of Lawrence is, historically, a mixed bag. Undoubtedly it leans heavily on then-contemporary analyses of Lawrence as opposed to Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Seeking the cinematically sensational and dramatically effective, Lean, Bolt and Wilson emphasize (and exaggerate) Lawrence's psychological foibles over his political dilemma. The sadism angle seems particularly suspect at 50 years' distance.

On the other hand, the movie gets more right than its credited for. Lawrence is most convincing showing Lawrence's personal conflict at "serving two masters" and feeling betrayed at war's end. Lawrence's ambivalence towards notoriety is well-captured, and his personal heroism ably portrayed. In many of its essential episodes, such as Gassim's rescue and his military leadership, the film does its subject justice.

Overall, Lawrence of Arabia's T.E. Lawrence is a fair, if exaggerated, portrait based on what was known in 1962. Many new discoveries and interpretations, from the release of War Office records in 1968 to testimony of previously-unheard witnesses (John Bruce, Janet Laurie) to biographies and released family correspondence, have challenged its depiction. But its view of a deeply tortured, larger-than-life hero remains largely convincing to this day.

One month left...

It's now 30 days until Lawrence of Arabia's re-release! Everything seems tentatively in place: I've managed to get out of work early on 10/04, and convinced. Once payday rolls around I'll pre-order tickets and everything will be set.

Some additional treats: the Restoration trailer can be viewed here, and it's a beaut. And here's the first review I've seen of the upcoming Blu-Ray release. Be sure to look for the three-disc collector's edition if you want the "seduction scene" and other goodies though.

For those of you not deathly sick of this topic, I'm hoping to blog on the film some more in the lead-up to the release. Some topics I'm interesting in covering, in one form or another, are its historical accuracy, portrayal of Lawrence and perhaps missing scenes. I might even dust off my long-mooted Robert Bolt piece. Given my failure rate with past promises though, I don't want to say anything for sure. 

For those who are, rest assured that I won't neglect other areas. With the unofficial start of fall, it's soon time for a new Coming Attractions article. And who knows, I may even hit a theatrical release soon.

Lawrence of Arabia Update!

The Waterfront is over there. It's only a matter of going.

I've spent the past week trying to cobble together information about Lawrence of Arabia's October 4th re-release. Thanks to user Bob on the AMC Theaters community page, I've finally found definite information.

Fathom Events' page on Lawrence can be read here. Sadly it's only a one-day event, but there are other perks, including a filmed intro from Omar Sharif, several vintage featurettes, a Martin Scorsese tribute and an intermission! Be still my beating heart.

Not sure if Lawrence will play near you? Here is a complete list of participating theaters.

Thankfully, the AMC theater in Homestead will be showing it, which means I'll be seeing it! I might even be able to drag my friends along. The real question is: can Groggy survive the next five weeks without exploding?

Provisional wallpaper/banner/t-shirt design. Yes, Groggy's a nerd.

New reviews coming soon.

"Common humanity is the one thing you can't have": Lawrence of Arabia's Balcony Scene

I've already posted about the new restoration of Lawrence of Arabia. As its release date approaches, more information is slowly trickling out about the Blu-Ray. Besides its supposedly flawless image quality and exorbitant list price ($96 USD!!!), it does have one additional feature of great interest: the restoration of the film's most famous deleted scene.

A crucial sequence in the film (dubbed the "seduction" scene by David Lean) has Lawrence returning to General Allenby's HQ after his rape at Deraa. Hoping to be "an ordinary man," he encounters Feisal, who reveals the existence of the Sykes-Picot Agreement. A disgusted Lawrence attempts to resign, only to be goaded back into the field by Allenby. The end of this scene can be viewed here.

Most of this scene was missing from earlier prints of the movie. In 1989, Robert Harris released his famous restoration, which added some 20 minutes to the existing version, including this scene. However, due to poor image and sound quality, the beginning of this sequence could not be restored. Even dubbing Jack Hawkins' dialogue with actor Charles Gray proved insufficient, and the scene could only be restored in part.

I'll reproduce the missing dialogue below. Most sites claim it begins after Allenby's "Tell me what happened," but they ignore the brief scene between Dryden and Bentley ("It's a little clash of temprament that's going on in there"). Regardless (from Reel.com):

MEDIUM SHOT: The terrace outside Allenby's office. Lawrence is seated in a chair. Allenby's leaning against a pillow, his bottom on the terrace railing.
ALLENBY : … Yes. Well, you've had a glimpse of the pit.
LAWRENCE: No, a glimpse of sanity. [Hard.] And I'm not going back.
[There is a short pause. Lawrence's eyes are on the general's epaulettes. Allenby notices and begins to unbutton his jacket.]
ALLENBY: You won't go mad, Lawrence. [Quite indifferently] You've got an iron mind.
LAWRENCE: Oh, no. [But he is pleased]
ALLENBY: Oh, yes. And here's another thing. When you ask for your "common humanity" you're crying for the moon. Common humanity's the one thing you can't have.
LAWRENCE: There's nothing else.
ALLENBY: There is, for one man every hundred years or so.
LAWRENCE: [Skeptical, but we can just see the poison starting to work] Me?
ALLENBY: [Taking off his jacket] Yes, I think so. [Regarding himself with the jacket] Isn't that funny? I feel quite naked. And that's the difference. I'm a leader because someone pins crowns on me. You're a leader … [Shrugs] … because God made you one, I suppose. There's nothing you can do about it.
[Allenby sits. Lawrence looks at him suspiciously, but feeling flattered and longing to accept the paternal embrace that seems to be offered.]
ALLENBY: You write poems, don't you?
LAWRENCE: Yes.
ALLENBY: Any good?
LAWRENCE: No. Bad.
ALLENBY: [Sympathetically] Hard luck.
LAWRENCE: It's not a matter of luck.
ALLENBY: 'Course it is. I grow dahlias myself.
[Allenby takes out photo of his house and his son. He peers at it, pointing to a patch of cabbage-like flowers in the background.]
ALLENBY: I've got good soil, good compost. I buy good plants. And I'm a conscientious gardener. But I don't have the luck to be a good one. So … [Grinning] I'm a gardening sort of general. Most generals are. But there have been poet generals. Xenophon was one. Hannibal … Nelson was the last. I think you're another.
LAWRENCE: [Skeptical, wearing a tremulous smile] Nelson and me? [He is asking Allenby to be merciful.]
ALLENBY: Yes.
LAWRENCE: That's an extraordinary thing to say to a man.
ALLENBY: Not to an extraordinary man it isn't.
LAWRENCE: [Thrusting it away] No, no.
ALLENBY: [Matter-of-fact] You must know it.
LAWRENCE: [Almost desperately] No!

Because of contractual obligations the scene won't be added to the actual film. Rather, the Blu-Ray will provide it as a special feature. Still, given my ambivalence to post-hoc restorations, I can hardly complain.

Lean and Robert Bolt considered this scene crucial to the movie, excising it only with great reluctance. Bolt supposedly considered it the best thing he ever wrote. Its historical value is unquestioned, but the scene would also add welcome character depth.

The scene shows Lawrence at his lowest ebb, shamed by his experience at Deraa and disgusted over British perfidy. Nonetheless, his egomania remains scarcely restrained. The scene shows Lawrence trying desperately to resist Allenby's advances, knowing from their first meeting that flattery is Lawrene's Achilles heel. His need for a father figure in Allenby makes the "seduction" more powerful. Unable to further maintain his false humility, Lawrence gives in, ending the scene on an even more grandiose note: "The best of them won't come for money... they'll come for ME!"

More interesting still is its characterization of Allenby. In the existing film Allenby is fairly two-dimensional, a skilled general who manipulates Lawrence for military purposes, with a smidgen of guilt masked by duty ("thank God I'm a soldier!"). This scene certainly develops his manipulative side even further. Even so, we get a small glimpse of Allenby the man: he takes off his uniform, discusses his family and hobbies, and shows himself a vulnerable human being. Other scenes only hint at this mixture of guilt and insecurity, a career soldier who recognizes Lawrence's unorthodox skill and resents it. Its deletion inarguably hurts the character and Jack Hawkins' performance.

On the other hand, the scene's excision makes sense. The existing Jersualem sequence is wonderfully economical. Bolt works a remarakble amount of character and plot exposition into a relatively brief, quick-paced sequence: Lawrence's inner turmoil, his growing stature, continuing outsider status ("Lays it on a bit thick, doesn't he?") even as his legend grows, not to mention British betrayal of the Arabs. The longer version also shows Bolt as playwright more than screenwriter, producing overtly florid, theatrical dialogue. Adding it would arguably hurt the pacing and make things drag. In a film as long as Lawrence, this is a reasonable concern.

Bolt's original script shows tantalizing remnants of further scenes. The extant scene with Allenby and Brighton discussing Lawrence's reports is longer, with Allenby all but expressing jealousy of Lawrence's fame and accomplishments: "(His reports are) not lies, poems." One fascinating sequence in an earlier draft, partly reproduced in Sabine Prufer's The Individual at the Crossroads: The Works of Robert Bolt, details a conversation between Lawrence and Auda abu Tayi immediately after the capture of Aqaba. However, I doubt these scenes are available, let alone filmed in the latter's case.

Of course, we won't know for sure until October 4th (the theatrical release) or November 13th (the Blu-Ray). Either way, it's one more reason to be excited about the restoration.

UPDATE, 11/19/2012: A 45 second clip can be viewed here. The whole scene on the collector's edition Blu-Ray is listed at around 7 minutes 30 seconds.

My main observation is that Lean and Robert Harris's concerns about voice matching are correct. Charles Gray doesn't sound a thing like Jack Hawkins in this clip. Strange considering Gray provides a closer vocal match in other sequences.

When I procure the Blu-Ray I'll report on the entire scene. Needless to say I'm as intrigued as ever after seeing this clip.

Aurens! Aurens!

Our long wait is finally over: a restored version of Lawrence of Arabia is finally getting a Blu-Ray release on November 13th.

Not exciting enough for you? Well, even better news is that it's getting a theatrical re-release on October 4th!!!

Make no mistake: I will twist arms, break legs and fight rabid badgers to see this movie in theaters. The only question is distance. Will I have time to drive halfway across the country to see it? Or maybe I'll have a decent job by then. Who knows?

This Happy Lean

Criterion has just come out with an incredible Blu-Ray set: David Lean Directs Noel Coward. This means In Which We Serve, This Happy Breed, Blithe Spirit and Brief Encounter in one set. Yowza! If this blogger weren't chronically cash-strapped it would be a must-buy.

Groggy favorite Self-Styled Siren wrote a fine piece on This Happy Breed for Criterion. My own take from the blog's early days can be read here.

Anne V. Coates Interview

Trevor Hogg of Flickering has a superlative interview of that legendary editor, Anne V. Coates, up on their site.



Happy Labor Day to my American readers! Coming soon are reviews of Traffic and The Far Country. Possibly even another article if I have the time/energy.

RIP Eddie Fowlie

I'm surprised to hear this is old news, but two weeks ago Eddie Fowlie, David Lean's devoted prop master and special effects whiz, passed away. He was quite a remarkable chap, who recently published a memoir of his film work, and will be missed immensely.

Major Barbara

Major Barbara is my favorite Bernard Shaw play, which makes the 1941 film version's mediocrity that much more disappointing. Despite Shaw taking a hand in the adaptation, a fine David Lean cutting job and the always-wonderful Wendy Hiller in the lead, the resulting film is weak and unsatisfying.

Scholar and activist Adolphus Cusins (Rex Harrison) is smitten with Major Barbara Undershaft (Wendy Hiller), a young Salvation Army worker. The two engage to be married, but Adolphus learns that Barbara is the daughter of Andrew Undershaft (Robert Morley), an infamous arms merchant. Undershaft visits Barbara's shelter, impressed with her sincerity towards her patients, then offers to buy the cash-poor Salvation Army. Much to Barbara's horror, the Army accepts her father's offer. She is even more horrified when Andrew taps Adolphus as his putative heir, though Adolphus hopes to use the company for good rather than Undershaft's evil.

1938's Pygmalion is a wonderfully economical film: it trimmed the fat of the Shaw's play, making it suitably cinematic without losing its message or strength. Major Barbara is the polar opposite: its 121 minutes feel a lot longer, with a stilted pace and endless dialogue scenes resulting in a painfully draggy film. Gabriel Pascal's boring direction does it no favors; aside from some lively montages towards the end, there's nothing remotely cinematic here.

The play is a sharp socialist satire of England, and some of that comes across. Undershaft is a wholly unscrupulous man, unconcerned with the destruction wrought by his wares and relishing his role as Britain's unofficial policy maker. The Salvation Army is naive, helpful but unworldy, and betrays its principles by selling out to its supposed enemies. Shaw also critiques lay-abouts and thugs like Bill Walker (Robert Newton) who take advantage of the Army's naive charity. Few people come off looking good here, with the idealistic Barbara completely at sea, and Cusins ultimately absorbed by the system.

However, the film errs in watering down the drama. Undershaft is a wonderfully amoral, devious character in the play, the very embodiment of ruthless capitalism. In the film, however, he is a charming, doddering old man in a disreputable profession. Whether the fault of Shaw, Pascal or Robert Morley, this interpretation is all wrong, removing most of the story's dramatic force. A montage at the munitions factory perversely reinforces the righteousness of Undershaft's endeavors. The denoument where Cusins and Undershaft negotiate terms seems bland rather than dramatic, and the happy ending an afterthought rather than a triumph. This leads to a garbled message completely at odds with the play's cynicism and modestly-hopeful conclusion.

Wendy Hiller is a Groggy favorite, and she's near-perfect here: strong, forceful and beautiful, she carries the film through sheer will. In contrast, Robert Morley is close to bad; he's a fine actor but his interpretation of Undershaft is all wrong. Rex Harrison is fine, although I'm starting to wonder if he had much range beyond the snarky professor role (cf. My Fair Lady, Blithe Spirit). David Tree hilariously revives his gormless idiot schtick from Pygmalion, and it's not remotely tiresome. Deborah Kerr (The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp) and Stanley Holloway (Brief Encounter) have small but noticeable roles.

Major Barbara is a huge disappointment. The source material is excellent, but nothing is done to make it work as a film. I would rather see an actual theatrical performance than a boring "filmed play."

Friday Miscellanea

In case you were wondering, I'm still alive, but I've been busy with finals and nursing a sour stomach, and the movies I've seen since my last review haven't been worthy of comment in my opinion.

Here's some stuff for you to ponder:

- Doctor Zhivago is now on Blu-Ray, and according to DVD Savant and DVD Beaver, it's totally bitchin'! If I did Blu-Ray and didn't already own the old special edition DVD, I'd be all over it.

- Here's some footage of Ennio Morricone's recent concert in London, and here's a discussion/review. Looks/sounds amazing!

- Since everyone likes to bitch about remakes, regardless of whether the original films were good or not, here's a nice article by the Times of London for you to chew over.

- My most recent viewing was Stephen Soderbergh's Che. It was one of the most boring films I've ever seen.

- My film class essay on Fassbinder's Veronika Voss should be up soon.

This term is almost over, but I'll be here for six weeks in the summer. I hope I'll have time and energy to write reviews in the near-future, but I'm not promising anything.

49th Parallel

If you were laboring under the illusion that Canadians are a bunch of hockey-playing, Maple Syrup-guzzling hosers who say "Eh?" a lot, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger are here to learn you different!

49th Parallel (1941) is a perfectly-constructed film, part wartime propaganda, part thriller. A few too many speeches belaboring the virtue of democracy does not hamper an otherwise brilliant movie, which works on multiple levels - and, I'd dare say, is Powell and Pressburger's best film. It sends a blunt but effective message: With Nazi spies crawling across Vancouver, the war is not an ocean way, but effects everyonet: no more isolationism for us.

German submarine U-37 is scouting off the coast of Canada after sinking a British freighter. Warships locate and sink the submarine, and the only survivors are six sailors, led by the fanatical Lieutenant Kuehnecke (Eric Portman), who were sent ashore to secure supplies. Our anti-heroes gradually dwindle in number, as they encounter a group of grizzled traders, a commune of pacfist Hutterites, and flee Mounties and vigilantes on their way to (still-neutral) America and freedom.

49th Parallel wonderfully flips audience expectations on their heads. The movie's straight-forward plot of heroic men behind enemy lines... has Nazis as protagonists. And, aside from the fanatical Lieutenant, our Nazis are human beings, their evils of ideology rather than humanity. We see the Nazis commit atrocities (leaving shipwreck survivors to drown, gunning down helpless Eskimos), but we also see them as human beings, particularly Vogel (Niall McGinness), who wants nothing more than to resume his career as a baker. It's the ideology that's bad, not the men, and only the Lieutenant who considers Mein Kampf his Bible is beyond redemption.

49th is not as openly subversive as The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), which ran into trouble for suggesting that Englishmen and Germans can be friends, and that the English government makes mistakes in its conduct of war. But still, it's mind-boggling that the British government funded this film in WWII's darkest hour. One seriously wonders how Powell and Pressburger got away with this and Colonel Blimp without serious reprecussions.

Powell and Pressburger present a romanticized view of Canada, not unlike their portrayal of Scotland in I Know Where I'm Going! (1945), full of broad stock characters - a plucky French-Canadian trapper (Laurence Olivier), a cynical deserter (Raymond Massey), cheery Indian and Eskimo sidekicks - and gorgeous landscapes. If the film makes a few too many speeches about the virtue of democracy and the degeneracy of Nazism, it makes up for it with the power of its convictions. The best moment is when the Lieutenant's bombastic pro-Hitler speech to the Hutterites is answered by the group's leader (Anton Walbrook), comporting himself with dignity and quiet anger, explaining how German immigrants think differently than Nazi Germans. Stereotyping can be forgiven when the characters make such strong impressions.

Powell was targetting still-neutral America, and it's hard not to think that his emphasis of Canada's diversity was a nod towards the melting pot to the south. As broad of stereotypes they are, all of the Canadians we meet are decent fellows, whose straightforward friendliness baffle the strictly regimented Nazis. At the end of the film, we see two Americans customs agents sending the Lieutenant back to Canada as contraband: an amusing twist in and of itself, and a sign that we'll come into the war on the right side.

Powell's direction is wonderful, with Freddie Young capturing eyefuls of gorgeous Canadian scenery - mountains, pine forests and snow flats all strikingly captured. Pressburger provides a perfectly-constructed script: its three acts are essentially self-contained, and yet flow together perfectly, with a perfect pace that develops tension and drives the action. David Lean provides some excellent montage work, particularly in the later segments of the film, and Ralph Vaughan Williams adds a superb score.

Eric Portman (A Canterbury Tale) gives a perfect performance as the Lieutenant. He's a one-dimensional character delivered with fiery conviction, the perfect representation of hateful Nazism. Niall McGinnis (Becket) does a great job as the most tragic of Portman's men. Laurence Olivier's bizarre portrayal of a Quebecois is rather cheesy, but the other star cameos are excellent: Raymond Massey (Abe Lincoln in Illinois), Leslie Howard (Pygmalion), Finlay Currie (Great Expectations) and Anton Walbrook (Gaslight).

What more can be said? 49th Parallel is a wonderful film from top-to-bottom. And those Canadians are awesome, eh?

Oliver Twist

So Lean Quest 1.5 comes to an end! Oliver Twist (1948) is Lean's second foray into Dickens, after the beautifully-shot but problematic Great Expectations (1946). In every way, except its more restrictive location work, Oliver Twist is the better film, with a crisply-flowing narrative that retains the spirit of Dickens' work, striking cinematography, and sharply-drawn, memorable characters.

Meek orphan Oliver Twist (John Howard Davies), eeking out a dreadful existence in a work house, infuriates his charges by daring to ask for more gruel. Oliver eventually winds up on the streets of London, falling in with the ghoulish crime lord Fagin (Alec Guinness) and his gang of pickpockets, including the Artful Dodger (Anthony Newley). He also runs afoul of the drunken Sykes (Robert Newton) and his feisty girlfriend Nancy (Kay Walsh), while kindly Mr. Brownlow (Henry Stephenson) tries his damndest to save Olvier.

Lean's Twist is the definitive adaptation of this Dickens tome, and easily the darkest. Its depiction of a stark, grimy, crooked London are a far cry from the goofball musical Oliver! and similar adaptations, which make a life of street crime seem not so bad. Lean keeps Dickens's acidic portrait of Victorian London intact: between the cruel sweatshops, the hypocritical, crooked judges, the disheveled children made up like Auschwitz survivors, the duplicitous criminals and the lynch mobs eager to string up delinquents, it offers a stark, disturbing picture of a time too often idealized in the arts.

In most every way, Lean improves on his previous Dickens film. While Great Expectations's narrative has all the flow of Bigfoot's shower drain, trying to cram in way too many plot points in two hours, Lean and writer Stanley Hayes are wonderfully reductive: they reduce the inevitable exposition into brisk sequences, keeping the plot intact without becoming unwieldy. In Great Expectations, we had boring, poorly-cast leads with the interesting characters lurking in the background; here, we have a rather dastardly trio dominating the proceedings, and infinitely more interesting. Dickens purists may find the story a bit rushed, but it's preferable to the slog of the previous film.

As usual, Lean's production is a marvel, from the portentious, storm-swept opening to the climactic riot - Lean handling intimate sequences and large set pieces with aplomb. The film has the typical Lean flourishes, including the dog's violent reaction to Nancy's murder and Sykes's desperate roof-top scramble. If the movie misses the impressive location work of Great Expectations, it makes up for it with John Bryan's impressive art direction and Guy Green's rich, deep-focus photography, creating a truly dark and frightening portrait of the London slums. Impressive use of montage and simple exposition keeps the story moving at a brisk pace; no more dwelling than necessary with this story.

John Howard Davies is a fine if rather passive Oliver, but he's blown off the screen by his three antagonists. Alec Guinness's Fagin has been much criticized for anti-Semitism, and his scraggly beard, beaked nose and bizarre accent give such complaints validity. On its own, however, it's an impressive, bravura performance, with Guinness near-unrecognizable under mountains of make-up and scratchy voice, his character repulsive and charming in equal measure. Robert Newton (This Happy Breed) is appropriately menacing and violent, and the always-lovely Kay Walsh (Tunes of Glory) gives perhaps her best performance, strong-willed yet vulnerable. Supporting roles are farmed out to an interesting array of character talent: Francis L. Sullivan (Great Expectations), Maurice Denham (The Day of the Jackal), Ivor Bernard (Pygmalion), Ralph Truman (El Cid), Diana Dors (Hannie Caulder).

In sum, Oliver Twist is another excellent Lean film, and perhaps the best Dickens adaptation ever filmed.

Now I've reviewed every Lean film for this blog. What now?

PS: RIP to the great Fess Parker. Most people will probably recall his TV turn as Davy Crocket, but I best remember him for his funny cameo in Them!