Archives for posts with tag: omar sharif

MV5BYWY5ZjhjNGYtZmI2Ny00ODM0LWFkNzgtZmI1YzA2N2MxMzA0XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNjUwNzk3NDc@._V1_UY268_CR2,0,182,268_AL_.jpgThis movie is perfect.

In it, you watch a man go mad as European empires destroy the Middle East on purpose.

It is not happy.

T. E. Lawrence (Peter O’Toole, terrifyingly young and beautiful) is seconded from his minor post in an office in Cairo to the Arab revolt against the Turks, under Prince Feisal (Alec Guinness). His companions in this are Sherif Ali (Omar Sharif), whom we meet when he shoots, sight unseen, a man drinking from one of his wells, and Harry Brighton (Anthony Quayle), who puts in a masterful performance as a stolid and unimaginative British soldier. There are some higher-ups about, as well: General Allenby (Jack Hawkins) and the éminence grise Mr. Dryden (Claude Rains, who incidentally lets you get from Humphrey Bogart to Orlando Bloom in three moves).

There to help you with the difficult bits is an American reporter (Arthur Kennedy), who asks Lawrence pertinent questions to which he can give dotty answers, and documents the whole spectacular swashbuckling thing.

And it is spectacular. Lawrence swans about in white robes, his followers achieve the impossible, and even the Army in Cairo gives grudging and then unstinting respect. Then of course it goes badly and the War barrels towards its close and we, Lawrence, and Harry watch Dryden mention a Mr. Sykes and a Mr. Picot and Feisal make one or two extremely cutting remarks and it is emotionally draining.

No expense was spared in the production and it is splendid. The soundtrack you have heard and it it is great. The film is slow, but this is not old-fashioned pacing; it is meant to convey the distances and the desperation. Nowadays Alec Guinness would not be cast as Prince Feisal nor Anthony Quinn as Auda; this is certainly some sort of victory but not necessarily a cinematic one. Sir Alec in particular is just really good in the role. He gets most of the best lines.

The story-telling is superb. It is surprisingly lacking in both moralizing and melodrama, but your sympathies are constantly shifting. Lawrence, from naïve but attractive, becomes horrible yet still compelling. Ali, who kills a man before you meet him, becomes in some ways the moral center of the piece. And Harry–watch Harry.

Stray observations:

  • What, in your opinion, do these people hope to gain from this war?” “They hope to gain their freedom. …Freedom.”
  • It is technically rated PG, but it is worse than that for anyone with a rudimentary imagination and sense of humanity.
  • Possibly I recommend breaking it over two days, both for convenience and palatability.
  • This is my favorite movie, and I think it is the best movie ever made.

Director: Sir David Lean
Rating: PG
Length: 216 minutes
Score: 5/5, but also unrateable

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This is one of those productions which really makes me wonder how the economics of it could possibly work. Costumes are lush, the cast is frankly amazing, and it can’t have been cheap. But it’s awful. The writing is insulting and incoherent, the battle scenes are worse than nothing, and the directors have no idea how to get their actors to resemble human beings. And since it ran on TV, presumably it had no real way to recoup the outlay? How does this happen?

We open with Catherine’s (Catherine Zeta-Jones) marriage. Mel Ferrer is the priest! She is marrying the heir to the Russian throne, who is a non-entity with smallpox scars. Apparently he’s also incapable in the bedroom, so the Empress (Jeanne Moreau of blessed memory) recruits some slab of a nobleman (Craig McLachlan) as stud. Catherine falls heavily, has a kid whom we won’t see again, and is disappointed when this chap turns out to be gross.

MV5BMjA2Nzg4MTg4MF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNDc1NjkxMQ@@._V1_UY268_CR4,0,182,268_AL_Then she launches a coup against her husband, the circumstances of which are not clear. That is: I didn’t already know them, and this production did not help me. Brian Blessed and Ian Richardson are there being sinister, but to what purpose it is impossible to say. The army seems to be important, and she has an affair with some guy called Orlov (Mark McGann), whose main skill seems to consist of being so manly he must use a pocketknife to unlace a corset.

Eventually Potemkin (Paul McGann) shows up, and they shout at each other and sleep together and he acquires a stylish facial scar. Approximately two dozen Ottomans make trouble, and Petersburg totters. Meanwhile some peasant (John Rhys Davies) pretends to the throne and both Catherine and Potemkin have a lot of angst about it.

Everyone in this production deserved better. I’m almost mad I watched it.

Stray observations:

  • Yes, the actors who play Orlov and Potemkin are brothers, and there’s actually a third brother as well, and yes, it is jarring. Orlov basically looks like a slightly coarsened Potemkin, and they’re both called Grigory.

Directors: Marvin J. Chomsky, John Goldsmith
Rating: tame TV
Length: 100 minutes
Score: 1/5