Rating: 5 out of 5
Joel and Ethan Coen are, beyond a doubt, national treasures. Their films have a decidedly bizarre and artistic bent, but are far from entirely cryptic and without commercial appeal. Their 1998 "bowling" film The Big Lebowski niftily blends elements of comedy and noir, making it perhaps their most idiosyncratic. Is it all about bowling? No. Is it a bowling film? Sure. The actual bowling is just a home base for the characters, but it represents their nature. If bowling was edible, the saying "you are what you eat" would be true for them. Plus, it gives the Coens a chance to come up with visually luscious sets and droll ceremonial sequences.
Jeff Bridges stars as Jeffrey Lebowski, a slacker if there ever was one. His wardrobe consists of shorts, white t-shirts, a couple robes, and some flip flops. He spends his nights at the lanes, and his days, well, probably at the lanes. He is unemployed, and prefers to be called The Dude. He takes turns waxing paranoid with his best friend Walter Sobchak (John Goodman), a Vietnam veteran who applies war strategies to every situation. Always tagging along is the timid, absent-minded Donny (Steve Buscemi).
Returning home one night, The Dude is assaulted by two goons who, ahem, soil his rug, before realizing that they have the wrong Jeff Lebowski. Prompted by Walter, The Dude visits the other Lebowski (David Huddleston), a crippled millionaire, hoping to receive compensation for the rug. The "Big" Lebowski proclaims The Dude a deadbeat and sends him home. The next day, however, The Dude is called back to be a courier when Lebowski's trophy wife Bunny (Tara Reid) is kidnapped. A simple ransom exchange is ruined by Walter's scheming, and turns into a classic mystery of nihilists, avant-garde artists, and political allusions.
Besides bowling, the film's foundation is the friendship between The Dude and Walter. They are relics of the '60s and '70s. They're still the hippie and the veteran, left-wing and right-wing to some degree, but they get along. They even learn a few things from each other. The Dude is generally laid back like no other, but finds himself in a wildly stressful situation, and knowing how to be worried is what pulls him through. Walter, on the other hand, is rigid and temperamental, but has learned how to control his aggression to small bursts (even if it means pulling a gun on other bowlers for cheating). There seems to be only so much calmness between the two of them at any moment. Walter is, however, loyal to a fault. It is his attempts to recompense for past commotion that cause more commotion.
There is a narration by a nameless character played by Sam Elliot that gives the film a storytelling feel. The Coens, with what is in some ways one of their very best screenplays, create a story as plausibly unbelievable as possible. It's the kind of story that, had it happened to someone you know, you would discuss excitedly with mutual friends. At times it seems to get too ridiculous, but there is a passivity punctuating each scene that keeps it grounded in reality.
As a film, however, the purpose for The Big Lebowski is simply the sheer fun of cinema, for maker and viewer alike. In a Tarantino sort of way, it is both an homage to and an exceedingly original break from ordinary movies. It is colorful in both dialogue and set design, and features seamless ensemble performances, from Bridges and Goodman as the leads to Philip Seymour Hoffman as the sycophantic Brandt. Look at the scene with John Turturro as bowler Jesus Quintana. It doesn't move the plot forward, but it is one of the movie's most memorable moments. The Big Lebowski doesn't try to size up to any other films, but it is nonetheless as memorable.
Whenever I tell someone I like Jeff Bridges, the reply is, "Have you seen The Big Lebowski?" As of today, I have yet to see it. But after reading your review, I am very tempted to rent it and see it finally. Thanks for the review. It sounds like a fun movie to watch.
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