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Honestly, what is there to say about The Big Lebowski that hasn't already been declared thousands of times before? It seems practically redundant to pen a critique of this particular motion picture. Thus, I've undertaken this review to present a different opinion - an opinion which will be grilled, criticised, and won't be widely shared...
The writer-director duo of Joel & Ethan Coen are dotingly recognised for their unparalleled ability to conceive vividly-drawn characters, beguiling stories and brilliantly peculiar cinematic experiences in general. They manage to construct inventive stories that conform to familiar generic conventions but are wrapped in outlandish and original settings, and the result entertains endlessly. The Big Lebowski is extensively regarded as a cult comedy classic - it performed poorly at the box office (scoring less than $18 million from a reported budget of $15 million), yet various viewers and critics worldwide adore it, quote it limitlessly, and worship it religiously. But alas, through the eyes of this reviewer, The Big Lebowski is undeserving of its accolades and cult status. This is a dreary, unfunny, virtually unwatchable filmic concoction. Its diminutive plot exists as a paltry excuse to showcase off-the-wall character vignettes as the actors stroll through strange scenarios. Normally, slender plots can be overlooked if there's sufficient fun to be had. In the case of The Big Lebowski, though, the film grows tedious very quickly.
Here's the essential vibe of the plot (if it can even be labelled as such):
Jeffrey "The Dude" Lebowski (Bridges) is a lowlife, unemployed slacker who loves bowling, White Russians and Creedence Clearwater Revival. A group of inept crooks mistake the Dude for a millionaire businessman, and urinate on his rug in an attempt to coerce him into paying a debt he has absolutely no knowledge of. Seeking retribution for his soiled rug, the Dude visits the wealthy Jeff Lebowski (Huddleston) and soon becomes a patsy when he's embroiled in a case of kidnapping and extortion.
The plot sounds slightly similar to The Big Sleep or some Raymond Chandler story, doesn't it? This is pretty much the sole running gag - it's a convoluted detective story through extraordinary eyes that concerns a congregation of lowlife characters. It's a pastiche of Raymond Chandler's proverbial labyrinthine noir, anchored not in the hard-bitten Humphrey Bogart but the quixotic pothead Bridges. A majority of the gags featured in this lacklustre creation are hit-and-miss. The eccentric supporting characters are acted with delightful abandon; yet the script never utilises them effectively. The film is also sometimes too downbeat and too serious...it's jarring. I never laughed out loud...the film merely provoked a few subdued chortles. Lines such as "Obviously, you're not a golfer" among others have become venerated by ardent fans, but they come across as random, and are desperately missing a context. Aside from a handful of amusing lines courtesy of the impeccable John Goodman, there is nothing "hilarious" about this drab, excruciating, unfunny black comedy.
The script additionally contains an excessive amount of profanity. Normally there's no problem with profanity aplenty, but it's used far too unnecessarily frequently. At one stage the narrator even asks the Dude "Do you have to use so many cuss words?". If only the Coen Brothers had taken notice of the words they had written in their screenplay...
The lack of plot or - genuine momentum, for that matter - is ostensibly concealed by drawn-out, Busby Berkeley-style dream sequences. With this in mind, The Big Lebowski is a classic exercise in self-indulgence - plenty of impressive style to behold, with zero substance to complement it. Why viewers lap up this twaddle and worship it like the second coming is possibly the biggest mystery I've encountered in all my years of movie-watching.
Certainly, The Big Lebowski isn't a total disaster. Several Coenisms (as previously mentioned) are in evidence, and the actors perfectly immerse themselves into their respective characters. John Goodman is the standout as Walter; a gun-toting, Jewish-convert Vietnam veteran with anger issues. The sole funny lines are delivered by Goodman, and frankly the film suffers whenever he isn't on the screen. Jeff Bridges looks and acts the part of the Dude, even though his occasionally monotonous line deliveries cause the film to bog. The third and final member of the main cast is Steve Buscemi (a Coen Brothers veteran) as Donny; the soft-spoken, reserved member of the group.
The secondary cast are also worth mentioning. Julianne Moore is fantastic and engaging as the pseudo-European feminist art freak. David Huddleston nails the brusque tone as the millionaire Lebowski, with the always dynamic Philip Seymour Hoffman appearing as his snivelling assistant. Sam Elliott is a treat as the narrator, Peter Stormare (another Coen Brothers veteran) is amusing as the German rocker-come-porn star nihilist, and there's also John Turturro as the convicted child-molester-turned-bowler named Jesus.
Another upside is the delightful soundtrack. In addition to Carter Burwell's excellent original score, there's a terrific brew of extra songs tossed into the mix. The film features music from Nina Simone, Bob Dylan, Captain Beefheart and Creedence Clearwater Revival, as well as including a Spanish cover (by the Gypsy Kings) of Hotel California.
All in all, the Coen Brothers missed the mark by a country mile with The Big Lebowski. Maybe I just don't "get" this type of humour, or maybe it simply isn't to my taste. Nevertheless, after three agonising viewings (and despite my love for other films created by the Coen Brothers, such as Fargo and Raising Arizona) I still can't find much value in this particular film.
3.8/10
