"Somehow I rest easier, knowing the Dude is out there, takin' 'er easy for our sins." So states the mysterious cowboy narrator of THE BIG LEBOWSKI, thereby elevating Jeff Bridges' character, The Dude, into the archetypical Christlike anti-hero of our times.
Christlike? But The Dude's every other locution is the "eff" word!
Yes, but in chaotic times like the American 1990s, the forces of decency and love inevitably must be found in some pretty strange places, podner.
THE BIG LEBOWSKI is a romp whose chief goal is to make audiences laugh until they cry. However, along the way, the Great Themes all are broached: Love, Death, Greed, Perfidy, Betrayal, Forgiveness, Courage, Honesty, Ambition.
I have watched LEBOWSKI merely four times, but I look forward to owning my own copy soon and watching it once a month. I've already memorized sections of dialogue. Flaubert said, "Madame Bovary--c'est moi!"; I am inclined to say "The Dude--c'est moi!"
For those whose minds and hearts align with those of the Coen Brothers, surely this is their crowning achievement to date. No scene rings false, and the parts all cohere, even though one must watch the film several times before every detail falls into place. This is a consummate work of picaresque art which becomes a kind of DON QUIXOTE before it's over: utter compassion and realism underlie the delicious absurdities.
Ye who have ears to hear: listen and laugh. This is as good as film gets at the turn of the millennium.
Christlike? But The Dude's every other locution is the "eff" word!
Yes, but in chaotic times like the American 1990s, the forces of decency and love inevitably must be found in some pretty strange places, podner.
THE BIG LEBOWSKI is a romp whose chief goal is to make audiences laugh until they cry. However, along the way, the Great Themes all are broached: Love, Death, Greed, Perfidy, Betrayal, Forgiveness, Courage, Honesty, Ambition.
I have watched LEBOWSKI merely four times, but I look forward to owning my own copy soon and watching it once a month. I've already memorized sections of dialogue. Flaubert said, "Madame Bovary--c'est moi!"; I am inclined to say "The Dude--c'est moi!"
For those whose minds and hearts align with those of the Coen Brothers, surely this is their crowning achievement to date. No scene rings false, and the parts all cohere, even though one must watch the film several times before every detail falls into place. This is a consummate work of picaresque art which becomes a kind of DON QUIXOTE before it's over: utter compassion and realism underlie the delicious absurdities.
Ye who have ears to hear: listen and laugh. This is as good as film gets at the turn of the millennium.