Classic

Having exhausted choices on Netflix recommendations, I started watching “Lawrence of Arabia”. I’ve seen it before, of course, but I don’t remember where or when. It was released in 1962. It’s unlikely I would have been able to sit through a 3 hr. 40min film as a rambunctious eleven year old.

The cinematography is amazing, Peter O’Toole’s eyes are quite blue. Colonization certainly had its foes. In one scene a man in their group of fifty falls off his camel. Omar Sharif advises O’Toole to leave him, which is inhumane. O’Toole rescues him in an arduous and death defying decision. While he is getting much needed rest, Omar burns his British uniform and leaves him with desert attire. There’s a fun moment when O’Toole uses a wide knife blade as a mirror to see himself in the new garb. And Lawrence of Arabia is born.

Then they run into a tribe on horse back. How the horses survived the desert didn’t make sense. There were two watering holes, but the horses couldn’t have traveled far. Movie logic?

Tomorrow is another of Brian’s Salons, I think. Lourdes is suppose to join me. If I have the date wrong, we’ll just catch up on her recent rip to Spain.

Til then…