THE BIG LEBOWSKI A-
USA Great
Britain (117 mi) 1998
d: Joel Coen
This isn't 'Nam. This is bowling. There are
rules. —Walter Sobchak (John
Goodman)
A zany, constantly inventive, laid back charmer that
features witty dialogue, madcap characters, drugs, sex, and plenty of
profanity, not to mention terrific use of music that intrudes almost like a
Greek chorus as the voice of one’s conscience.
Perhaps the greatest tribute to bowling ever committed to celluloid,
this is a film about a perfectly relaxed and ordinary stoner guy, Jeff Bridges
known as “The Dude,” who likes to hang out with his friends, drink white
Russians and bowl at nights. However,
trouble ensues, interrupting his mellow slacker’s life, when the Dude (aka Jeff
Lebowski) gets mistaken for the “big” Lebowski, a high society Lionel Barrymore
type who claims to have millions, who apparently owes some gangsters a shitload
of money and they’ve come for a collection, showing they mean business by
peeing on his rug before they realize it’s a case of mistaken identity. But clearly irritated by that rug incident,
the Dude decides to hit the real Lebowski up for a little replacement rug
money, but instead he gets wrapped up in the middle of a kidnapping-gone-wrong
caper, as Lebowski’s young porn starlet girlfriend turns up missing. Wacko Vietnam vet John Goodman plays his best
friend Walter, a big man who has an opinion on just about everything, where at
least in his view, everything in life is related to Vietnam, usually setting
off his hair-trigger temper leading to a stark raving mad rant, but then he
tones it back down to fine and mellow.
John Buscemi plays Donny, always late in entering a conversation, where
Walter inevitably barks at him: “Shut
the fuck up, Donny.”
The film is basically a non-stop, run-on conversation
between Walter and The Dude, as despite being best friends, they also
continually get on each other’s nerves.
There’s actually a cowboy tumbleweed introduction by an offscreen
character known as The Stranger (Sam Elliott), who places the setting in Los
Angeles and proceeds to deconstruct the whole Raymond Chandler romantic view of
the City of Lights, as this dark and constantly frustrating view of the city is
meant to be discouraging, where things are never what they seem. However, from the luminous interior glow of
the bowling alleys, you’d think the city cherished bowling as much as they do
movie emporiums. While not a private eye
movie, the Dude is thrust into the middle of one volatile situation after
another with a myriad of goofball characters that requires a certain amount of
self-reflection to continually find his way out of dead ends. From high flying feminist artist Julianne
Moore, real daughter of the “big” Lebowski, who triggers nudist expression,
procreation, along with key plot revelations, or John Turturro who has an
all-too brief appearance as a trash talking bowler named Jesus Quintana dressed
in color coordinated lavender, who goes through sexual gyrations and a good
luck kiss as he delivers the ball, to the three Nihilists who are easily the
mosty bizarrely dysfunctional kidnapping team, as they continue to demand
ransom money even after they’ve lost the kidnapped girl, while suave and
debonair Ben Gazzara, porn producer supreme, relies on old-school methods and
traditional heavies to get his point across.
With surrealistic Busby Berkeley bowling dream images that
occasionally flood the screen to the music of Kenny Rodgers and the First
Edition singing “Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)” Big Lebowski Dream Part -
YouTube (3:18), including a bowling ball-cam that only sees out of the
rotating holes as it rolls down the lane, the pace of the film is pure anarchy
where anything goes, where the Dude just goes with the flow, ocasionally
arguing with Walter over each other’s strange interpretations, but each new set
of circumstances is central to the film having the feel of a mysterious road
movie, where the Dude’s car gets a workout following one ridiculous journey
after another. Like an apparition, The
Stranger shows up in the middle of a bowling sequence, expanding on his
narrative observations directly to the camera even as the Dude is embroiled in
his next adventure, where he’s heard near the end proclaiming “The Dude abides.” John Goodman, however, is the true revelation
in this film, as he’s just a giant lug of a man who insists on being the Dude’s
right hand protection, a guy who lays it all on the line out of true friendship
wherever he goes, where he’s just as likely to fuck things up as save the
day. But what matters is that they’re a
team, where the ultimate insult is to threaten quitting the bowling team. To these guys, that’s heresy. An exquisitely heartfelt live performance of
Townes Van Zandt singing “Dead Flowers” Townes
van zandt - Dead Flowers - YouTube (4:48) brings down the curtain to the
final end credits. This is the Coens
delivering sheer lunacy.
