An Epic Journey To The Big Screen

Nominated for 0 Oscars, not even a freakin' Golden Globe


Have you ever traveled 50 miles to go see a movie? Have you ever done it twice in a weekend, to see the same movie no less?

That's exactly what I did this past weekend. Yes, I am aware of the Price of Gas, and no, I'm not completely insane. Perhaps I should explain myself--even though that's exactly what a crazy person would say (and I still defend myself from these ridiculous charges!).

I think one of the biggest qualifiers that defends my actions is the movie in question; it's not merely a movie, but a film of the highest order: Lawrence of Arabia. Not only a fantastic work of art, but one that nearly requires it to be seen on the Big Screen (much like say, 2001: A Space Odyssey and that other movie that people say, but I probably saw it on my medium-sized TV and I was pleasantly satisfied). When Lawrence of Arabia is playing a limited weekend run on the big screen, and you have no other prior plans, there's really no reason why you shouldn't go. In fact, you'd be an asshole not to go. That's right, you'd be an asshole. There, I said it--I'm looking in your direction, Frank. Wanna fight about it?



The fact that it was Lawrence of Arabia had added significance as well. For months now, I had been meaning to watch it again, since the only time I had seen it was on TV when I was eight, and the only thing I can remember was...sand. Lots and lots of sand. Since I've made an effort in the past year to really dive into The Art of Film, I couldn't have a blind spot like this in my education. However, I had neglected to rent it every time, because I knew that I would end up falling asleep on the couch, no matter what. But the blind spot eventually caught up to me.

I recently accompanied my friend (and occasional contributor to WDR) Von Bookman to a Trivia Night up at Harvard, and had acquitted myself rather well, proving that Dartmouth men know a little bit beyond drinking Keystone Lights and degrading women. Like anagrams! Clint Eastwood is Old West Action indeed. Actually, I had proven myself to be quite an asset to our little team, and we were in striking distance of capturing the title for the night. We had come to the last question, and we had to bet the maximum to potentially win. What 227-minute 1962 epic had no speaking parts for women?

My answer for the team: Spartacus. Result: FAILURE.



You can probably determine what the correct answer was, and I felt great shame in bringing such dishonor to my alma mater. And it turns out that Spartacus had speaking parts for women, so that means I should probably watch that one again.

So I had the additional motivation of making up for my past mistake and actually setting out to watch the film. You can bet I'll always remember that trivia question. And with a theater in Port Land playing the film less than a week after I arrived back on the West Coast, I could only take it as a sign that I needed to watch it. So I made the trip, one that I had only done once before (to see There Will Be Blood before it would hit wide release a month later) and shit yeah, it was worth it. I spent nearly four hours in awe, and not even the guy two rows back and 10 seats over whose snoring drowned out some key dialogue could have ruined it.

Oh, and you may ask, why did I make the trip twice? Because I got lost finding the theater the first time. Thanks for bringing that up, asshole.