Big Lebowski
What is it that makes a true cult movie? Perhaps it’s a film that bombs at the box office but manages to find a following afterwards on home video? Or maybe a low budget movie that comes out of nowhere and becomes a huge success?? Or maybe the purest definition is one where the following is so rabid, so dedicated, that it inspires an entire subculture of people in how they should live their lives (for better or worse), all the way to holding their own conventions where people show up dressed as the characters themselves. Such is the aftereffect of this 1998 film by the Coen Brothers, largely ignored upon initial release but having gained such legitimate traction in later years that the said conventions devoted to it became just such a reality. Jeff Bridges stars as The Dude, a completely lazy slacker who also functions as a merciless walking parody of the ultimate radical left-wing progressive type (but with twice the lovable charm of the real-life version), living in Los Angeles unemployed (but presumably on any number of entitlements to maintain his lifestyle) whilst engaging in his favorite activities: smoking weed and bowling. The story (what there is) kicks in when he’s visited by two slow-witted thugs who mistake him for a millionaire with the same given name as he (Jeffrey Lebowski), claiming that his wife owes them money and having one of them proceed to urinate on his rug. Thus his journey begins, at its essence him just wanting to get a new rug, but really a harrowing trek of discovery of him going outside his comfort zone and discovering not only how pompous and arrogant the other half are, but how sadistic and manipulative as well. Indeed, the class warfare examples put on display here are done with the perfect touch of biting satire, as no matter how hard The Dude tries to get his little financial piece of mind, he realizes the painful lesson of how most “little guys” like him will NEVER break into the upper echelons of high-class society. Aiding him in his quest is best friend and bowling buddy Walter (John Goodman, robbed blind of any Supporting Actor awards consideration), a blow-hard right wing ex-Nam vet with the propensity to explode at the slightest hint of disrespect and the tendency to pontificate about how every event in the movie is related to the sacrifices he and his fellow soldiers made in Vietnam. Goodman’s performance is electric, the perfect tension filled ying to Bridges’ laid back yang, from pulling out a gun at the lanes over a perceived foul to the constant disrespect shown to the third member of their bowling team (“Shut the fuck up, Donny.”) every time he opens his mouth, though admittedly Donny (Steve Buscemi) is ALWAYS two or three steps behind any conversation between The Dude and Walter where he is present. Just brilliant camaraderie shown amongst these three actors, the chemistry of which elevates the film above the normal comedy standards in ways still unheard of to this day. The Coens also manage the mean feat of including an incredible amount of depth in their amazing script, seemingly making every speaking role into an offbeat and quirky character of some kind. Among the many notables are David Huddleston as the pompous, blowhard millionaire (The Big Lebowski), giving his rants against The Dude that perfect extra tinge of disgust; Julianne Moore as the most repugnant character in the film, the millionaire’s openly liberal daughter whose mind is so warped from a lifetime of privilege and opulence that she literally lives in her own champagne socialist universe; Tara Reid as the gorgeous young wife of the old man who manages with very limited screen time to capture the spirit of the film, that of a spoiled, rich brat who lives a completely carefree lifestyle oblivious to the world around her; future Oscar winner Phillip Seymour Hoffman as the grinning sycophant assistant to the old man; Peter Stormare and Flea as members of a gang of nihilists central to the story of the film; Ben Gazzara as the porno king to whom the young wife owes a sizable amount of money to; Sam Elliot as the mysterious Stranger who can best be described as a surrogate for God Himself; and literally the list goes on of unusual, original characters, from Jack (Inventor Of Scrabble) Kehler as The Dude’s weirdo landlord to David Thewlis as a so-called “Video Artist” who runs in the daughter’s circle, and of course John Turturro as the over the top, registered sex offender bowling rival of The Dude and Walter, creating a character with his own mini-following despite only being on for about five whole minutes of the film. Just amazing writing, acting, and directing all around as The Coens give us a virtual smorgasbord to feast on, even as the story stays strictly from The Dude’s point of view, so much so that many of the mechanics of the plot are never made clear to us, as we don’t know if what’s been told to him by others is bullshit or not (the Moore character constantly talks down her father while he claims that his hot young wife has been kidnapped), with the only steady theme being that these rich, elitist bastards seem to get off on jerking The Dude around like a worm at the end of a hook, flaunting their wealth in his face while never ever letting him get a taste of their lifestyle himself. In the end, after you get past the satire, after you get past the pseudo-Noir pretenses, what wins out is the existential theme that one must do what one enjoys best no matter where their place in the food chain is (“Fuck it Dude. Let’s go bowling.”), and the sport, the recreation of bowling is certainly that which The Dude and Walter enjoy the most. Truly amazing that after all the mass complications of the story, that such a simple, beautiful message can be made so clear, and THAT is what places this movie as the Ultimate Cult Film Of All Time and undoubtedly the best piece of work ever done by the Brothers Coen…
10/10