March 25th marked the centenary of David Lean’s birth. His Lawrence of Arabia is arguably the best film ever made; an intelligent, sweeping epic that would not be made today. Starring then unknown Peter O’Toole as the enigmatic T.E. Lawrence, the movie took two years to film, featured no established movie stars, had no love story, little action, and dared to portray Lawrence as a complex antihero: noble, tortured, vain, ambitious, bloodthirsty, self-hating, and maddeningly brilliant.
Anthony Lane of New Yorker wrote a lovely piece to honor one of cinema’s greatest craftsmen, and perhaps the last of the epic filmmakers.
The glory of Lean was that, with “Lawrence,†he summoned his earliest memory of awe and, perhaps for the last time, restored our illusion that a mass medium could be a miracle. And the sadness of Lean is that he went on clinging to that belief while the rest of us watched it drift away. He died in 1991. Thank heaven he was not around for the iPhone.
Here’s the full essay.















