Few directors can claim to hold the cinematic authority of blockbuster pioneer Steven Spielberg, who has cemented himself as the architect of suspense and awe through his superior devotion to the art of filmmaking. Therefore, when Spielberg professes that the desert crossing scene inLawrence of Arabiais “one of the greatest moments in movie history,” we truly ought to listen to him. Released in 1962, the nearly four-hour epic is a masterclass in pacing and cinematography, nowhere more apparent than in the desert crossing scene.
Through sheer perseverance, T.E. Lawrence, Sherif Ali, and a party of 50 men cross the Nefud desert to capture the coastal city of Aqaba,a near-impossible task that almost takes the lives of several members. For Spielberg, it’s one of the most evocative and powerful sequences he’s witnessed, claiming it “cast a spell” on him—it’s no wonder theAFI considers it one of the greatest epic movies ever. So, ahead of Roland Emmerich’sLawrence of ArabiaTV series, there’s no better time to explore whytheSchindler’s Listdirectorconsiders the desert crossing one of the best scenes ever.
Why Steven Spielberg Loves Lawrence Of Arabia’s Desert Crossing
In a 2021 essay from Empire’s “Greatest Cinema Moments Ever” issue, Spielberg broke down his first viewing ofLawrence of Arabiain a high-end Arizona theater when he was 14 years old. There, the soon-to-be director sat in the smoking section,entranced by the theater’s 70mm film projection and stereophonic sound. Finally, when the desert crossing scene came to a head just over an hour into the film, Spielberg recounts an audience phenomenon so bizarre he hasn’t “witnessed anything like it since”:
…the first thing I noticed was how quiet the audience was and how few cigarettes were being lit as the sun bore down on the riders, most notably Gasim, who had fallen off his camel in the night and was trekking toward the rising furnace of a sun. Lawrence, risking everything, rides back for him as the sun grows in size until it looks like the whole audience is going to be sucked into it.
Then there is a jarring cut to camels and riders drinking from a great oasis and the tension is drastically broken. When the sequence ended, dozens of people in the audience suddenly rose to their feet and left the theatre. I didn’t understand what was happening. We had all watched one of the greatest moments in movie history and people were walking out… including my father.
The film continued to play, and by the time Sherif Ali burns Lawrence’s uniform many began to return… all of them laden with beverages. You could hear the crushed ice swishing inside their containers. Cokes and 7 Ups by the arm-loads! That sequence had dehydrated 800 people, many of whom rushed to the oasis of the concession stand to quench their thirst. I haven’t witnessed anything like it since.
It’s easy to understand why Spielberg would findLawrence of Arabiaso moving after bearing witness to an event of that caliber. Indeed, prior to the desert crossing sequence, Sherif Ali calls one particularly brutal patch of the Nefud “the anvil of the sun,” a sentiment proven through the roves of audience members driven to the concession stands in search of hydration. At the end of the day,Spielberg’s anecdote is truly a testament to the awesome and unique power of cinemato influence audiences in a greater fashion than perhaps all other mediums combined.
How Lawrence Of Arabia Has Influenced Steven Spielberg
Spielberg Has Carried The Torch And Emulated The Epic’s Visual Storytelling
During his acceptance speech for the BAFTA Fellowship in 1986, Steven Spielberg made a point to thankLawrence of Arabiadirector David Lean, saying the 1962 epic “did more to inspire me to want to make movies than any other film that I can recall.” In truth,Lean’s inspiration can be found all across Spielberg’s filmography, from the swashbuckling heroism and sweeping landscapes ofRaiders of the Lost Arkto the visual wonders ofJurassic ParkandClose Encounters of the Third Kind.
However, the greatest throughline betweenLawrence of Arabiaand Spielberg’s filmography is an extraordinary ability to inspire awe and transcendent wonder, which has also been referred to over the years as “Spielberg magic.” When looking at theE.T.director’s body of work, you find a plethora of wide, expansive shots in the manner ofLawrence of Arabiain both scope and deep emotional pathos—elevating the ordinary or mundane through visual storytelling unique to cinema. However, the greatest connection between Spielberg and the 1962 epic is a devotion to the human element, which remains a staple of the director’s legacy.
