Hairy_Lime

A British soldier – the titular Lawrence - and his Arab guide Tafas have stopped at a desert well to drink. Through a mirage and the shimmering heat, we see a black speck in the distance. "Turks?" Lawrence wonders. Slowly, with minimal cutting, the speck resolves itself into a man on a horse who rides up, lowers his weapon and shoots dead the Arab. It is a beautiful, shocking and violent entrance and given the time it takes, a surprisingly economical one. We meet the second main character and juxtapose his character with Lawrence's. We see the stupid and brutal nature of the inter-Arab feuds and squabbles – which sets up much of what happens later – and the stupid and brutal nature of life in the desert – a desert which might be as important a character as Lawrence.

But as the movie plays out, it also plays off what that scene reveals. We already have some inkling that lurking under the civilized veneer Lawrence wears something darker is lurking. We know he is something of a professional risk taker – we've seen his demise, for instance, and the way his immediate reaction to learning how to drive a camel is to put spurs to it. But there is a masochistic streak running beneath it that may explain Lawrence's actions better: his trick with putting out a match with his fingers, despite the pain. It is significant that when he gets what he wants, an assignment in the desert that he thinks will be "fun" ("It is recognized that you have a funny sense of fun.") he blows out the match rather than snuff it with his fingers – the jump cut to the desert is not only beautiful and beautifully done, it indicates that the desert fulfills the need for pain that the lit match had poorly filled. After Lawrence leads a spectacular raid on Aqaba, he reports, "We killed some, too many really. I'll manage it better next time." But he also reports having to execute a man: "There was something about it I didn't like…. I enjoyed it." In the end, Lawrence and Ali have changed places: it is Lawrence who leads and participates in the bloody massacre of Turkish troops at Tafas – now where in this review have we seen that name before? - and Ali who resists violence. But then, Prince Feisal had already previsioned what would happen with Lawrence. He tells the reporter Jackson Bentley, "With Major Lawrence, mercy is a passion. With me, it is merely good manners. You may judge which motive is the more reliable." And Lawrence learns that the internal squabbles of the Arabs are not the greatest problem he faces. Prince Feisal had already indicated this: "The English have a great hunger for desolate places. I fear they hunger for Arabia." Lawrence has been aware all along that his superiors have designs on Arabia (the historical Lawrence, by the way, had known of the agreement between England and France all along, but in the movie he learns of it only after Tafas, when the push for Damascus is planned.) and his work for the Arabs is designed to make them an English client state. Lawrence has been working all along for two goals, an independent Arabia and an Arabian client state.

But then, this just scratches the surface of what is going on with Lawrence's character. We see so much more: the shameless exhibitionism, the intelligence, the possible sexual orientation – one wonders if his reaction to being raped in Deraa is similar to his explanation for the match trick – his belief in his own indestructibility, his conflicted loyalties and his love for Arabia, whatever the questionable source for that love might be. The movie needs a great performance in the central role, and boy do we get that. Peter O'Toole was a little-known Irish actor, primarily on stage, before this role. He is, if a strictly hetero man may say it, magnetically gorgeous and as perhaps our mostly naturally flamboyant actor he is a natural for the part of "A poet, a scholar, and a mighty warrior (and) also the most shameless exhibitionist since Barnum and Bailey." He gets the conflicts inside Lawrence and wisely never resolves them. O'Toole's performance here is perhaps the single most unfairly overlooked lead performance in AMPAS history. This man being competitive Oscarless is a crime.

The movie also has perhaps the best color cinematography ever – Freddie Young gets the credit for that – and a magnificent score, from Maurice Jarre. Along side O'Toole's great performance are superb performances by Sheriff as Ali – smoldering sexuality in the love interest – the always welcome Jack Hawkins and Claude Raines as Lawrence's British handlers, Anthony Quinn as an Arab leader of questionable loyalties and clear motivation, and Jose Ferrer in a brilliant brief turn as a Turkish Bey. The only performance that too me seems off key is Alec Guinness as Feisal. Not that Guinness is not a great actor, but perhaps because for me Guinness is the most British of British actors, even when made up as an Arab or a Tantooean hermit he seems like, well, a Brit made up like an Arab or a Tantooean hermit.

It is not a perfect movie. Lean's direction is overall fantastic – no one handled epics like Lean. The battle sequences are beautiful, there are images (O'Toole in flowing white robes atop a train, for instance) that are perfect and iconic. But like all epics, including Lean's, there are stretches where the pace seems to lag unnecessarily and the movie drags. The ride across the Nefud should not feel like it is in real time, no matter how gorgeously filmed. But that's a quibble. This is a great film.

My first impression of the new Coen Bros movie, A Serious Man....

The plot is simple. It is the story of a man who finds himself utterly unprepared for his midterm exam. He has studied his teacher's stories, but not the reality behind them: he was unaware that there was going to be math involved, even though the whole point of the stories is to illustrate the math - it's the math that really matters. He was also under the impression that it was going to be open book.

In his desperation, he tries to crib from the exams of his fellow students, only to discover they don't have any of the answers either. Or if they do, their blue book contains nothing but indecipherable gibberish. He's afraid that failing the exam will cause his scholarship to be revoked. Finally, with it all falling apart on him, he turns to brazen cheating, and gets caught. And discovers that, while consequences may not necessarily have actions, actions most definitely have consequences.

Or perhaps not; perhaps that's too easy of a metaphor. What A Serious Man is, besides being one of the handful of best movies of the decade, is an examination of a world where, if God is present, he sure the Hell isn't showing himself to us; he left on sabbatical before the exam and the proctors he left behind can do no more than point to the parking lot.

I seem to have returned to my perhaps inappropriate metaphor. But then, I'm still turning the movie over in my mind. Perhaps it is better just to point out a few of the many, many joys the movie contains: typically sparkling dialog - it is the Coens - tremendous performances, especially by Michael Stuhlbarg, perfectly drawn and cast minor characters, a great shaggy dog (their best since Lebowski which was shaggy dog from first to last) that wanders into the middle of the movie and stays on the edge of the consciousness like it might, finally, actually mean something... maybe. An ending that is perfect for all those people who thought the resolution to No Country for Old Men was too pat, predictable and neatly wrapped up. And, oddly enough, a beginning that is its equal. The movie's plotting is typically ingenious, and provides a hidden circularity to the whole picture - the movie begins with a man who may be a Dybbuk and ends with a man who may be Schroedinger's Cat. It is also uproariously funny, right through to the ending credits.

And perhaps maybe, just maybe, it gives us the answer to the whole damn thing - an answer given to us by, of all people, Mike Yanagita.