Anyone foolish enough to think that this is not one of the best movies ever to have been made embodying the very essence of what makes cinema stand out among all other cultural forms of expression should stick to Matrix, Disneyland and Diet Coke. Pointing out its historic inaccuracy is simply redundant as it never claimed to be a documentary, and biopics generically put an emphasis on story development rather than truthfulness (cf. JFK, Patton, etc.). Lamenting the movie's pace is, at best, indicative of your dwindling attention span you might as well ask yourself if the Bible's too long. Finally, bemoaning the over-the-top acting of the entire cast, but most notably O'Toole, is an anachronism as you're dealing with pre-method-acting Hollywood and there's no concern whatsoever with realism, let alone naturalism; besides, the film, more than anything else, is a psychological portrait meant to express (as in "expression") the inner turmoil of its main protagonist in the face of events bigger than life. Not to forget that O'Toole's character is ripe with homo-erotic innuendo, and subsequently his struggle against his inner demons must also be read as a self-denial of his sexuality, as is made obvious in the rape scene. Indeed, not least thanks to O'Toole's ethereal performance, T.E. Lawrence is portrayed as an outsider in every sense of the word, a pariah of both worlds whose acceptance he is desperately seeking. One of the countless merits of Lean's desert western is to make evident this struggle of the individual against society and conventions but also its shortfalls , revealing itself in extreme situations that command extreme feelings. And rather than serving up an insipid happy end (as it would no doubt have to were it produced today), Lawrence of Arabia tells of the factual prevalence of pragmatism over ideals, of society over the individual, of tribalism over humanity, and not least, of war over peace a gloomy message that couldn't possibly be more to the point, here served by a Homeric plot, a legendary score, sweeping photography, and immortal actors.
Review of Lawrence of Arabia
