"The timing of my being asked to write about Lawrence of Arabia for the Muriels Hall of Fame is perfect, as I had the opportunity to see it on the big screen for the first time recently. It is the essential theatrical experience that I'd heard and assumed it is, its images overwhelming and immersive. Our introduction to Sherif Ali, a barely perceptible black speck on the horizon that gradually reveals itself to be a man on a camel, is astonishing when viewed in a dark theater. It's an image that director David Lean repeats throughout the film - characters appearing and disappearing into the distance, dwarfed by the vast expense of desert and sky - and for good reason, as it never loses any of its power. Though Lawrence of Arabia features explosions and violent battle scenes, some of its most powerful moments rely on silence and image of a small figure making his way across vast expanses of desert, struggling not only to survive but to write his own destiny.
"What makes Lawrence of Arabia particularly unusual for a prestigious, award-winning epic is that the spectacle is entirely at the service of, and even an illustration of, its protagonist's inner life. At once a hero, a leader, an exhibitionist and a masochist, Lawrence sees the desert as the manifestation of his own romantic, self-made identity. But the understated tragedy of the movie is the way that reality repeatedly undercuts his dream of truly becoming a leader in his adopted culture; Lawrence imagines himself as the Arabs' liberator, ignoring his actual part in strengthening the role of the British empire in the region. By the film's end, he's outlived his usefulness for both his hereditary and adopted cultures; for all that he's experienced, he remains incomplete. It's as if he, and the audience with him, are waking from a dream that had to end. Still, what an amazing dream it is."
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