ADDED TO 'GREATEST FAVORITES': The Big Lebowski (1998)

Directed by the Coen Brothers

It’s the Coen brothers that get the last laugh at the end of The Big Lebowski – quite an accomplishment, because chances are the viewer has had quite a ball with the movie. About two hours later, after all of those antics, the relentless running around, the wacky characters, the White Russians, after all of Sam Elliott’s wonderfully dramatic narration, the Dude’s coveted rug (which prompts the entire film, remind you) is never compensated. In other words, there is zero resolution. In fact, has anything of merit or value really happened at the film’s end? If I’m questioning the movie this much, is there any point in even watching it? It’s only that last question that I’m comfortable and confident in answering: absolutely.

Endlessly quotable with a wonderful cast of outrageous and memorable characters, complimented by pitch-perfect performances, there is no doubt in my mind that The Big Lebowski stands (and will continue to stand) as one of the greatest comedies in recent memory. Twenty years later, with its massive cult following (one of my close friends is an ordained minister in the Church of Dudeism) and frequent intrusions in pop culture, at this point it is fair to say that The Big Lebowski is not just great, but it is iconic to the point of essentiality, almost a rite of passage for cinephiles worldwide.  

I want to say that a plot synopsis isn’t even needed at this point (who doesn’t know the story of this movie?), but I think the reality is that a synopsis cannot do The Big Lebowski justice of any sort. After all, we’ve already established that there’s not much resolution, but we’ve also established that there is at least a start to everything – case in point: the rug.

Jeff Lebowski (Jeff Bridges) is a man who walks a line of a lifestyle that borders between Zen and slacker. He comes home one night to two men who have broken in. They’re looking for Jeff Lebowski…but perhaps they’re looking for a different Jeff Lebowski; something about some money (which this Lebowski doesn’t appear to have much of), something about some chick named Bunny, Jackie Treehorn – all the while this Lebowski’s head is being shoved down the toilet. It doesn’t take much for this Lebowski to know they’re looking for the wrong guy – after all, he’s more affectionately known as ‘The Dude’. The two goons realize this, depart, but not without soiling the Dude’s rug by way of urination.

He doesn’t appear to be significantly distressed, but there is no doubt that the Dude is still annoyed by the incident (that rug really tied the room together, after all). Some encouragement from his bowling buddy Walter (John Goodman), an unhinged Vietnam vet, prompts the Dude to pay the millionaire ‘Big Lebowski’ a visit, to which the Dude is scolded for being an underachiever. Though the Dude manages to score a rug, it is taken away from him by the Big Lebowski’s feminist artist daughter Maude (Julianne Moore). Not long after, the Dude gets contacted by the Big Lebowski in an effort to rescue his young trophy wife, Bunny (Tara Reid), but Maude thinks the alleged kidnapping is a complete lie.

Confused? Yeah, well so is the Dude. Speaking of His Dudeness, let’s talk about him first. He’s essentially the lifeline of The Big Lebowski. Without him, the film could be unbearable. The film grabs the viewer by the wrist and aggressively drags them through a confounding plot that begs for cohesion, packed with characters that don’t belong in a mystery/kidnapping plot whatsoever, topped off with random interactions with inexplicable characters like the Stranger and the Jesus. But then there’s the Dude, a man who’s such a slacker that his own being won’t allow him to get totally involved in what’s going on. As the film proceeds, one gets the impression that he realizes it’s more worth it just to go along with the very insanity he’s thrown into – who knows what would happen if he were to get too invested.

I think what makes the Dude work so well (other than a wonderful performance from Jeff Bridges) is, ultimately, his relatability. I think we not only relate to the Dude in countless ways, but I think we all want to be him in some way or another. Deep down, we all want our lives to be simple and without too much hassle. While we have those that we’re happy to interact with, in spite of whatever quirks or downright craziness they may inhabit, we otherwise want our solitude, to be left alone with whatever passion ties our lives together. With that in mind, look at the Dude: he’s happy to befriend Walter and the eternally clueless Donny (Steve Buscemi), but as long as he’s got bowling, White Russians, and his rug, he’s got it all, no matter how little it may be to others. Like the rest of us, though, life and it’s love for throwing curveballs and monkey wrenches reaches the Dude, and here is where the hilarity kicks in. Watching the Dude passively accepting all of this insanity is funny enough as it is, especially considering this is all because of a rug.

But what would the Dude, or the entirety of The Big Lebowski for that matter, be without its wonderful script? If the Dude is the primary lifeline of this film, the Coens’ screenplay is like the surgeon’s tool-handing assistant. With the wacky plot and colorful characters, each scenario that follows keeps the viewer wondering what’s going to go wrong this time, no matter how lost they are in the plot – I’ve seen The Big Lebowski countless times in the past decade or so, and I always get lost somewhere, and I still love the hell out of it. And the cherry atop this allegorical sundae is the dialogue, packed with lines that beg to be immortalized, best of all being the Dude’s always passive smart-assery, as well as Walter’s compulsion obsession to tie everything back to ‘Nam.

Propelling the comedy further is the collage of characters – a grumpy aristocrat, a trio of German nihilists, a cowboy, a clueless nitwit, a among many. For me, Goodman’s loose-screwed Walter is perhaps the funniest aspect of the movie, brought into full array when he completely screws up a plan to hand off ransom money. What does Walter say when he and the Dude realize they may have just been responsible for a woman’s death due to his convoluted incompetence? “Ah, fuck it, Dude. Let’s go bowling.”  

The key word in that previous paragraph is “collage”. It’s a comedy with a kidnap-mystery plot, in Los Angeles with characters who not only don’t belong in this movie on any level (as previously established), but also don’t belong with each other. My most recent viewing of The Big Lebowski brought to light a lot of stark contrasts. First, I took a lot of notice to the color scheme. This is a very colorful movie – not uncommon for a comedy, but what makes the scheme here so unusual is the always-present backdrop of early ‘90s Los Angeles and all of its urban grit. Nothing fits in the best and funniest possible way in this movie.

The Big Lebowski closes with Elliott’s Stranger giving a coda, with the line “It was a pretty good story, don’t you think?” Of course, it’s hilarious considering nothing of value has happened, but as I thought more about this line, deep down, it all ties back to the essentiality of the Dude’s relatability: life throws all sorts of craziness at us that we hate going through, but end up becoming some of the best stories to tell. I can picture it now, being at a party chatting with the Dude and hearing him say “Oh, man, let me tell you about this time these two guys broke in and peed on my rug.”