This biographical portrait of T. E. Lawrence (a.k.a. Lawrence of Arabia) begins in 1922, when Lawrence was hiding under an assumed name as "Aircraftman Ross" in the Royal Air Force, and is being disciplined by his Flight Lieutenant for alleged misconduct. When Lawrence's identity is compromised, his dreams take him back to the various figures in his life, as the play flashes back to the famed Arab Revolts, beginning during World War I, in mid-1916.|21 men
Sir Terence Mervyn Rattigan, CBE was a British dramatist. He was one of England's most popular mid twentieth century dramatists. His plays are typically set in an upper-middle-class background. He is known for such works as The Winslow Boy (1946), The Browning Version (1948), The Deep Blue Sea (1952) and Separate Tables (1954), among many others.
A troubled homosexual, who saw himself as an outsider, his plays "confronted issues of sexual frustration, failed relationships and adultery", and a world of repression and reticence.
- T.E. Lawrence, sir. I believe some people have also called me "Lawrence of Arabia".
- So you've spent a lot of time in Arabia then?
- Yes sir. You worked that out very quickly sir.
- I will not tolerate any insolence, is that understood?
- Yes sir.
- Ross - or whatever you're called - do you understand why you are here?
- Yes sir. You are going to torture me until my will is broken, using methods which are illegal under both British and American law, and then you are going to force me to sign a false confession.
- Ross, I said I would not tolerate any insolence. We are going to give you a fair trial.
- Yes sir. That's what I meant sir.
- We are not bad people, Ross.
- I'm sure you're not sir.
- But we do need to find out you've been getting up to. First, I want to know how you are alive at all. You are supposed to have died in 1935.
- A great deal of the information in Wikipedia is inaccurate, sir. It's merely an observation.
- Humph. We will get to that by and by. Let us return to Arabia.
- Yes sir.
- What kind of relationship do you have with the Arab people?
- I get on quite well with them sir.
- So you feel close to them?
- I suppose you could say that sir.
- You sympathize with them?
- That would be another way of putting it sir.
- Even Arabs who are fanatical terrorists?
- Yes sir. You will recall that my original brief was to liase with Arab leaders, particularly ones possessing strong religious or nationalist beliefs, and encourage them to carry out attacks and acts of sabotage against their rulers. I would characterise that as explicitly ordering me to foment acts of fanatical terrorism.
- You were ordered to encourage resistance against the Turks, using appropriate means. You were not ordered to encourage terrorism.
- Yes sir. It is a semantic distinction that Lord Russell said he found quite interesting. I think he may have written a paper about it.
- So you knew Lord Russell, did you?
- Yes sir. Not as well as I would have liked.
- Lord Russell is dead, Ross. And people are no longer as interested in this kind of logical hairsplitting.
- It is a pity sir.
- Now Ross, I understand that after the War you expressed concern that the Arabs had not been well treated.
- I may have done so sir.
- You went as far as to suggest that we had betrayed them.
- I could have used that word sir.
- I am told you found the Sykes-Picot Agreement reprehensible.
- These things are always relative sir.
- And what do you mean by that?
- It was less reprehensible than the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact sir.
- I have told you, Ross, that I will not tolerate any insolence.
- No sir.
- The two cases are not comparable.
- No sir. Of course they aren't. I don't know what came over me.
- Now Ross, let's stop wasting each other's time here and get down to business. I understand you also knew Osama bin Laden.
- I was wondering when you'd mention that sir.
- I'm mentioning it now. Did you or did you not know him?
- I met him a few times sir.
- In what capacity?
- We talked a bit sir.
- About what?
- Mostly about his plans to defeat the American Empire sir.
- And what was your reaction to that, Ross?
- They seemed quite well thought out sir. Speaking as an expert on fomenting rebellion.
- Ross, Osama bin Laden was killed by US Special Forces in 2011.
- I am aware of that sir.
- He carried out a successful attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. But the US then invaded Afghanistan and Iraq.
- Yes sir. At a cost of about three trillion dollars.
- We have killed most of his top lieutenants in drone strikes.
- Yes sir. With a little collateral damage.
- Donald Trump has just been elected on a platform of completely destroying ISIS and in general taking strong action against Islam.
- One of the guards told me about that sir.
- Which one, Ross?
- I'm afraid I can't remember sir.
- We will see if we can stimulate your memory. So how do you think your friend's plan is going now?
- You are referring to the late Osama bin Laden sir?
- I am, Ross.
- Well, I'd say it was progressing quite nicely. But that's only an intuitive impression.
- I have had enough of your insolence, Ross.
- I understand sir.
- Do you not see who you're up against?
- You are talking about the US sir?
- Well of course. And all its allies.
- With all respect, sir, do you understand who you're up against?
- Who do you mean, Ross?
- I would call it history sir. But maybe people aren't so interested in these things any more.
Terence Rattigan's Ross is an elaborate stage play about T.E. Lawrence, the archaeologist-soldier who became a celebrity organizing Arab tribes against Turkey in World War I, then retreated into shameful anonymity in the postwar Royal Air Force. Rattigan's play (originally a script for an unproduced film) was overshadowed by David Lean's Lawrence of Arabia, which was released two years after Ross; the play remained in the film's shadow since, despite occasional revivals (a recent one starring Joseph Fiennes). Rattigan's play does show its origins as a film script at times: by necessity the battle scenes, desert crossings and other scenes so thrillingly dramatized in Lean's films are replaced by long dialogues describing such actions, giving the play a somewhat erratic quality as it jumps across time and events. Rattigan's play works best as a psychological portrait of Lawrence, a man driven by his ambition and indomitable will to become a military leader, then through while exaggerating. The scenes depicting Lawrence's agony over his dual role, his affection for his Arab allies and his growing disillusionment with himself are the most effective in the story. Rattigan sticks reasonably close to Seven Pillars and other published works on Lawrence, hinting lightly at Lawrence's masochism and homosexuality like other portraits (namely, Richard Aldington's) of the '50s and '60s. Lightly, that is, except in a subplot where Lawrence is captured at Deraa and, in this telling, recognized and deliberately raped by the Turkish commander to break his will. This moment, attempting to resolve an implausible sequence in Seven Pillars, manages even more strain credulity than Lawrence's own explanation of his escape. Aside from this, and a somewhat clunky framing device centered around Lawrence's postwar anonymity in the ranks, Ross is a mostly convincing historical drama and character study, if not one of Rattigan's best works.
First performed at the Haymarket Theatre in London, on 12th May 1960, this dramatic depiction of the life of T.E Lawrence, Lawrence of Arabia, uses insight, perception and historical events in an attempt to convey something of the reality of this enigmatic man. Of course, most readers will have seen or at least heard of the slightly later David Lean film, Lawrence of Arabia, written by Robert Bolt and Michael Wilson and employing Lawrence’s own writings. The two productions are very different, of course.
Rattigan employs backstory, setting the play initially on the RAF camp where Lawrence, in his other persona, Aircraftsman Ross, attempts to escape his past. After some illustrations of the banality and pointlessness of a service life I recognise from my own short days in the RAF, we are taken into those now famous events that both made and destroyed the man we all know as Lawrence of Arabia. Using dialogue and character to explain this complex figure, Rattigan is able to get at least partially beneath the skin of his protagonist. What he also manages to achieve is the exposure of the prejudices of the times, the blinkered attitude of the military, which appears to continue to this day, and the necessary duplicity that prevails amongst those senior figures during war. But what he reveals, more than anything else, is the sheer, brutal indifference of violent conflict. On the page, the horror and torment are palpable: in performance this must have been so very difficult to watch. Yet, I imagine that audiences were so captivated by the personal will of the lead character that they were unable to escape the performance.
Rattigan has brought to life a man who has defied explanation, a man both reviled and loved, hated and worshipped, honoured and despised, during his lifetime. But he has also tried, with some success, to explain the way in which exposure to different cultures and values, different sacred creeds, colours so absolutely the outlook of those who live within their influence.
This play is much more than a biography of a remarkable man; it is a statement about hypocrisy, the expedience necessitated by war, greed, betrayal, loyalty, friendship and love. A truly remarkable piece of theatre, even when read only on the page. Were this to be recreated as a stage performance, I would do all in my power to attend. If the power is so great in the text alone, performance must render this work one of the most outstanding theatre experiences. Thoroughly recommended. Read it.
Oh boy. This is a beautiful play. One that would be a real struggle to stage now a days. Not only because the cast is huge, but the amount of realism that it requires. But it is so wonderfully detailed that I would love the challenge.
Two years before David Lean brought Lawrence of Arabia to the screen, British playwright Terrence Rattigan put him on the stage, in a fascinating drama called Ross. Park your memories of majestic camels crossing wide sun-bleached deserts, and open yourself up for this very different treatment of one of history's most enigmatic figures. In its way, Ross is every bit as epic as Lean's film.
It is, certainly, huge: two long acts spanning nearly three hours of running time, with about two dozen characters. Most of the play takes place in Arabia between the years 1916 and 1918, when T.E. Lawrence burst more or less out of nowhere and transformed himself from an obscure mapmaker to the charismatic leader of Arab tribes, united under his direction and by his will to fight their common enemy, the Ottoman Turks. We watch him prove himself with a series of terrorist attacks on Turkish targets; we eavesdrop on his first meeting with British General Allenby, whom he plays skillfully in order to wrest official sanction for his activities from the military; and we see him apply his massive powers of persuasion to an Arab chieftain named Auda Abu Tayi, whom he succeeds in winning over from the Turkish side, thus effecting his first significant victory at the town of Aqaba.
But the incidents of Lawrence's astonishing life are really only incidental in Ross: what Rattigan is really interested in, and what he makes tantalizing to us in the audience, is the nature of this extraordinary man. Who was T.E. Lawrence? When we meet him at the beginning of the play, it's 1922, and he's going under the name Ross; he's enlisted in the Royal Air Force under this pseudonym, hoping not to be detected despite his enormous fame. That is what really happened; what Rattigan wants to uncover in Ross is why it happened. No one, of course, can ever know for sure. But the play offers us acres of intriguing information to help us start to figure it out.
What contradictions exist in this man! He's astoundingly and arrogantly fearless, but we frequently see moments of what he himself would call flinching cowardice: he's fashioned himself into a soldier, but he can't bear to kill anyone. He's not a proud man; indeed, his immense self-doubt manifests itself in a kind of self-flagellation, even self-destruction. But he's vain: he loves looking at himself in the mirror. He's a masterful manipulator of men, using his sharp intellect and passion to drive others to his will. But can he ever work that magic on himself?
Or is all the public humility just a pose, put on and then cast aside as it suits his purpose? Rattigan shows us where it might be, and shows us where it resolutely, painfully could not be. That's the power of this remarkable play.
Ross is unfortunately somewhat uneven: there's perhaps too much brittle repartee of the kind that peppers Rattigan's better-known works (such as Separate Tables or The Sleeping Prince); it feels jarring delivered by military types in the middle of World War I. But as a character study, Ross is dazzlingly potent and devastating. If nothing else, it will make you hungry to learn more about this enigmatic man.
Forgot to mark this one off. It was funny. Read it on the way to Malaysia and was a pretty good play. It has the 70s humor plus war kind of feel to it. dig. It's more intelligent than what I see now, which is mostly one liners on people trying to feel clever. I dig. Has a kind of Parisian Girl feel to it.
A stellar and concise yet compassionate read that does not shy away from either the historical realities, including his assault at Deraa, nor from Lawrence's dry, self-effacing humour that charactersises his writing, especially The Mint. All those who are interested in T.E. Lawrence's story will highly appreciate this play.
this was a weird one. very powerful in a short amount of time, contrast w/ 600+ pages of seven pillars & the 3hr47min lawrence of arabia. i think rattigan managed to paint a pretty accurate portrait of lawrence, but further thoughts to come.
Terence Rattigan's dramatization of the life of D.H. Lawrence has some powerful scenes, particularly in its depiction of his attempts to lose himself in the Royal Air Force in 1922 and his work on the Arab campaign during World War II, but also writes some checks the playwright fails to cash. The otherwise realistic play lurches into theatricalism in places, suggesting a more fully developed approach that might have better rivaled the film "Lawrence of Arabia," which premiered a year after the play. He also hints at more willingness to deal with Lawrence's homosexuality than did the David Lean film, but then backtracks. There's a subtext there that could be played, but you may find yourself hoping for a fuller development of the relationship between Lawrence's sexuality and his career.