Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Why Lebowski? Why Now?
Words Tim Anderson
Tuesday, July 12th, 2011 at 10:39 am
“I only mention it because sometimes there’s a man… I won’t say a hero, ’cause, what’s a hero?” – The Stranger
His Dudeness.
When I think of The Big Lebowski, I think of my dad. Ever since I sent the DVD to him almost seven years ago, it’s the one of two films we both love equally, the other being Cool Hand Luke. Neither of us have tried to eat fifty hard boiled eggs or spent time on a Southern chain gang, however we have both crashed cars, lost a Creedence tape or two and bowled. In fact, the only sports trophy my dad ever won was a bowling trophy. That guy sure can roll.
In fact what keeps us coming back to The Big Lebowski is our love of Jeff Bridge’s most famous character, The Dude, who can also roll. The Dude rolls with style. However Bridges’ Dude is a true slob, a character type that everyone knows. Perhaps you are one. Get a robe, don’t shave, don’t cut and comb your hair, be fat and grab a “white russian” and you are halfway there.
Now, be witty ’cause The Dude is no dude. The Dude is smart. He knows who William Kunstler and Ron Kuby are, once practiced radical politics, has a sense of irony, good taste in music (hates The Eagles, man) and is good with a comeback. Like it or not, The Dude is a particular American type. I can’t imagine The Dude being European. Unlike other icons of the American cinema he is not much of a hero. If your kid became The Dude you probably wouldn’t have much to say about him in your annual Christmas letter to friends and relatives. The Dude offers little to admire to those who look at America as the land of milk and honey. Instead, his is a land of half-and-half and Kahlua.
The question is why, why has The Dude become such an icon? Why has The Big Lebowski been embraced as a cult film that inspires annual festivals in multiple American cities and the UK, and even a shop in Greenwich Village dedicated to selling nothing but Lebowski ware?
The Dude abides.
Roger Ebert convincingly argues that what The Big Lebowski offers us isn’t so much a compelling story, but a compelling attitude toward life itself: “The film is all about Jeff Lebowski’s equanimity in the face of vicissitudes. He is pounded, water-boarded, lied to and insulted. His rug is pissed on and his car set aflame. He is seduced by a woman who wants only his seed. He has a fortune dangled before his eyes, only to have it replaced by telephone books and used boxer shorts. To heal and keep himself whole he stirs himself another White Russian, has a toke, sits in a warm bath. Like the Buddha, he focuses on “the big picture.”
This particularly sloppy form of American zen is what we celebrate and admire when we watch that film over and over, year after year: as we get older we can hope to become more and more like the Dude and abide. As young men lose the six pack, the paunch arrives with unpaid medical bills, a divorce or two, and what was once 28 is now 40. Search out a video of the fans at a Lebowski fest and notice that these fans are older and a little more weathered by life than, say, your typical fan at ComiCon. The Big Lebowski is humor that has been tempered by the cynicism that accompanies being tossed by forces you have no control over, whether it be the risky decisions of an investor on Wall Street or another scam artist with your same surname. The Big Lebowski is simultaneously sweet, fat, mellow and without guilt. It is the “White Russian” of American cinema.
My mom once told me the reason my dad loved Lebowski so much is “because he can really relate. He’s got crazy friends, used to drink all the time and dreams of bowling.”
No doubt my dad can relate. That dude can really roll.
AltDaily is hosting a special showing of The Big Lebowski at The Naro this Friday.
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ABOUT THE WRITER
Tim is an Assistant Professor at Old Dominion University in the Department of Communication and Theatre Arts. He is a media studies scholar who writes about new technologies and popular music. He lives with his lovely wife, Katie, and his three stepchildren, Robert, Mary Alice and Kathleen. In his spare time he enjoys yoga, chess, dancing and his cats.
Other posts by Tim Anderson.
Other posts by Tim Anderson.
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Very nice. I’ll try to play the opposite.
The Big Lebowski is really an absurdist film; a pessimistic story disguised in americanized oriental mysticism about the meaning of meaninglessness, or is it the meaninglessness of meaning? All the characters are no more than charictures; from “The Dude”; to Walt; to Maude; to Rich Lebowski; to Bunny; to the Nihilists who are really borderline retarded Anarchists. The only real character is Donny, with his bulging eyes; sagging jowls; stubbles and greased hair; befuddled stare; nonsensical interjections only to be brutally quashed by Walt-the pure embodiment of bloated american ideology; and his eventual all-too-common death.
The Dude, “Like the Buddha, he focuses on the big picture.”, or more appropriately, the lack of a big picture (not to question his ability to focus at all between the vodka, pitifully short joints, and acid flashbacks). The plot is seeded by a random event, sustained by a winding string of human ineptitude and idiocies; and just because some mysterious stranger with a bushy mustache and a faux cowboy affectation mumbles some incoherent pseudo-orientalistic wisdom does not salvage this wreckage of a movie.
The only redemptive scene is Lebowski’s dream sequence with Maude as a ginger Valkyrie. Utterly pointless and without any pretense at meaning. A brief interlude in the unrelenting boredom of Lebowski’s real life.
If this movie is the “white russian”, or a “caucasian” as The Dude likes to call it, of american films, it is the most nauseating kind: “sweet, fat, mellow and without [substance]“.
To sit through the entire movie can be summed up by Lebowski’s own words, “The Dude abides”, as it is a real test of a film goer’s endurance for absurdity and unrelenting gloom. And there are far better films to get one’s fill of those.
Why Lebowski? Why Now? Why Ever?
@Mr. Ark
Are we to assume that you don’t enjoy any of the Coen brothers films? They’re on quite a streak of absurdity and gloom. I guess you’re entitled to hate The Big Lebowski if you want to… even though Walter’s buddies died face down in the muck so that you and I could enjoy this family flick. But I have to tell you: I’m staying. I’m finishing my coffee.
Enjoying my coffee,
- D.J.
I do enjoy Coen Brother’s films, most of them, quite a bit more than The Big Lebowski. It ranks just above Hudsucker Proxy starting from least enjoyable.
For gloom: Fargo, No Country for Old Men.
For absurdity: well. Fargo yet again, A Serious Man
For humor plus the above, Burn After Reading, O’ Brother Where Art Thou.
Coffee is good.
Sorry, I guess I should have posted my reply as a reply instead of a comment. See below.
The Hudsucker Proxy is a good, underrated film.
And no list of the Coens’ best work is complete without Raising Arizona.
Well, that’s just like, uh, your opinion, man… :-)
In that case, I’d argue that the characters work both on their own and as caricatures, because… well… this is America. And we’re talking about the Coen brothers. All of the films you mention feature characters that both defy and vindicate the nature of their caricature. It’s impossible for me to watch Fargo and believe that the Coens aren’t poking fun at the Midwest. But Marge Gunderson rises above the stereotype even as she embodies it. I’d say the same for the protagonists in almost all of the Coen films; they are each a product of their environment whose true nature is exposed by the narrative. Occasionally some of the supporting characters don’t have the same opportunities to demonstrate this duality. But I think The Big Lebowski largely avoids that pitfall because it’s rooted in film noir (where things seldom are what they seem to be).
The Dude, while an obvious slacker god, is resourceful and surprisingly intelligent for his presumed amount of drug usage. Walter is loud and arrogant, but he’s also loyal to a fault and a pretty sensitive guy. Maude’s introduction might lead one to believe that she’ll simply be the money behind the quest; an eccentric version of General Sternwood from The Big Sleep. She surprises us by becoming the special lady friend of The Dude. On the other hand, Brandt and Jeffrey Lebowski act like big money because they haven’t got as much as they’d like to have. Bunny seems like a simple slut, but even she has a back story; a farm and a family to return to in Iowa. The Nihilists strike me as semi-ambitious hedonists (as opposed to borderline retarded Anarchists) even though they constantly profess that they believe in nothing. They seem like a nudge away from starting a Church of Nihilism as a scam. If they had big ferret statues, I might even drop a dollar in the collection plate.
My point is that real life, for the most part, is “utterly pointless and without any pretense at meaning” unless we determine otherwise for ourselves. I’d say that all of the events of The Big Lebowski are a “brief interlude in the unrelenting boredom of Lebowski’s real life.” These crazy caricatures exist in each of our worlds in some form. I guess most of us just don’t experience the perfect storm of “human ineptitude and idiocies” that could weave an entertaining tale for two hours.
The Dude abides with his rituals of bowling and White Russians, Creedence and “pitifully short joints,” whale songs and rugs that really tie the room together. Maybe those things are boring after a time, but maybe it forces him to find new ways to appreciate the cycles in his life or even grow a little. Maybe that’s why The Stranger makes about as much sense as anything does in The Big Lebowski. He’s a vessel of the Old West and its values, bearing witness to the melting pot of Los Angeles with its nods to philosophies and religions the world over.
We do agree on one thing… Donny is a sobering representation of death. Ultimately, no matter what we believe or how we live our lives, we’ll all end up like Donny. The best we can hope for is that the prevailing winds don’t blow our ashes into somebody’s face. And maybe a new Coen brothers film every few years until they die.
As American cinema goes, when the Coens are all finished I really, truly believe that we will have witnessed the most interesting set of narrative work of our time. It’s both popular, respectful and risk taking. Italso often goes ignored. “A Simple Man” was perhaps the best film I saw last year yet no one has mentioned it. I would also point to “Blood Simple” and”Miller’s Crossing” as two great, underrated films. I can hardly wait for their reworking of “True Grit”, starring Jeff Bridges no less.
“A Simple Man” was very good, but I would be reluctant to say it was the the best film I saw last year — even modified by the word “perhaps.”
I’m assuming you meant to type “A Serious Man” and not “A Simple Man”.
If so, I’m really shocked no one caught that blunder, even the commenter who agreed with you and still used an incorrect title.
And you call yourself a Coen Brothers fan!
Jim, what was the best film you saw last year. Curious. For me it was “A Simple Man”‘ “Up!”, “Star Trek” and “Anvil, The story of Anvil”.
Good question.
In 2009, I was blown away by individual performances in films I didn’t necessarily love, e.g. Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart, Christoph Walz in Inglourious Basterds and Mo’nique in Precious. All were totally deserving of their Oscars.
If I had to pick my favorite films, though, I’d have to say 500 Days Of Summer and A Single Man. I thought they were both flawless. The latter was especially mesmerizing; Tom Ford should have received more credit during the awards season.
Regrettably, I still haven’t seen The Hurt Locker or Anvil. I expect to enjoy them both.
I’ve always thought of TBL as a battle between those live in a world slick with subterfuge and those who, through moral courage, ethical insight, or lack of imagination, simply are who they are. As it turns out, this is a very difficult thing to do in our society. For those regard His Dudeness as ‘a man for his time’ it may be because he abides while the rest of the characters (and viewers) go on deceiving themselves.