REVIEW: The Big Lebowski

The Big Lebowski is one of my favorite films of all time. I could watch it a million times over and discover something new with each viewing. It combines elements of comedies, mysteries, westerns, and film noir, while at the same time taking inspiration from the works of authors such as Raymond Chandler and Mark Twain. While it was hardly a runaway hit when it opened in March of 1998, the film has gone on to become a cult classic, the namesake for two different breeds of African spider, and the basis of an entire religion. Suffice to say, it's a masterpiece. Sit on back, crack open a good sarsaparilla, and allow me to explain why.

The movie begins in 1991 Los Angeles with a case of mistaken identity; after being accosted by two thugs, Jeffery "The Dude" Lebowski (Jeff Bridges, in the role he was born to play) seeks compensation from the other Jeffery Lebowski (the late David Huddelston), a crippled billionaire. It seems this Lebowski's young trophy wife, Bunny (Tara Reid), had accumulated a sizable debt with a porn producer/loan shark by the name of Jackie Treehorn (Ben Gazzara), and his goons attempted to collect from The Dude by mistake. Everything seems cut-and-dry until Lebowski contacts The Dude, informing him that Bunny has been kidnapped. The Big Lebowski enlists the help of The Dude (who in turn enlists the help of Walter and Donnie, his bowling teammates played by John Goodman and Steve Buscemi) to drop off the ransom; the plan goes swimmingly until Walter suggests they keep the money for themselves and give the kidnappers a decoy. What follows is a complex mystery filled with twists, turns, and revelations, all in the name of avenging a rug that really tied the room together.

This movie is a film analyst's dream. Every last detail, from the dialog to the sound effects to the music is handled with the utmost care. Notice how a ringing phone always heralds an important change. Or how the condition of The Dude's apartment and car gradually deteriorate as the film progresses and the situation becomes more convoluted and dire. Or even how the vast majority of the film's iconic conversations at the bowling alley are conveyed via long, uncut takes. The Dude is a simple guy with a simple quest, but this is a film with enough depth to warrant hours upon hours of dissection and discussion. It's a perfect choice to introduce someone to the concept of studying a film's aesthetic; a kind of artistic gateway drug. Once they start to recognize how much of an impact these subtle-yet-intentional touches can make on a film, they'll never look at the medium in quite the same way again.

On paper, it's merely the story of a fella who wants to get his rug back, but in truth, it's about much more. The film is a clear commentary on the societal differences between the upper class and the so-called lower class. As Sam Elliot informs us in the beginning, The Dude is unapologetically lazy; he's not currently employed and spends most of his time smoking weed and going bowling. However, despite his layabout lifestyle, The Dude is very much a positive figure. He's found a way to live his life in which he is both comfortable and in a position to harm no one. His is a mellow existence, going with the flow and bringing little aside from good times and positivity into the lives of his fellow man. On the flip side, we have the other Jeffery Lebowski; fabulously wealthy, but altogether incompetent. He's a self-absorbed stuffed shirt who looks down on people like The Dude, referring to the poor or unemployed as "bums". He's seldom anything but an antagonistic force for the entirety of the movie, hammering in the film's overall theme that it's not what you have that matters, but what you choose to do with what you've got.

Aside from all of that, the film is flat-out hilarious. It manages to be one of my favorite "film" films and one of my favorite comedies all at once. Bridges, Goodman, and Buscemi have amazing chemistry together; it's nigh impossible to picture their dialog as having originated on a script, given how naturally their discourse flows right off the rails. Whenever John Goodman opens his mouth, you know something amazing is going to come out; he's the most quotable character in this supremely quotable movie. As I write this, I'm looking at the "Nobody F*cks with the Jesus!" poster I've got hung above my door. I love every aspect of this movie and I want nothing more than to submerge myself in it, to see it everywhere I go. Every performance is notable, from the main cast, to comparatively smaller roles like Jeffery Lebowski's yes-man, Brandt (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Jesus Quintana (a pederast and bowler played by John Turturro); everyone manages to leave an impression, no matter how big or small their role is. It's a movie with no real lows or weak links, everything's remarkably consistent quality-wise despite how eccentric the plot is.

In all honesty, what else can I possibly say about The Big Lebowski? What possible justice could I do it? It's one of my favorite movies of all time and, in my humble opinion, one of the best movies of all time. Though the story progression may come off as dauntingly absurd to some, there's honestly something for everyone to appreciate. It's a film that can be enjoyed as much as the viewer is willing to explore it, and I find that that's something both rare and special. This is a movie you could easily write an entire academic paper on (I would know, seeing as how I've done just that); at the same time, you could definitely just pop it in after a long day and lose yourself in the iconic bits of roundabout dialog (as I did tonight). It's a tremendously versatile piece of film. If you haven't seen it before, obviously, I recommend it. Give it a watch, and remember to take it easy. The Dude abides.