The Big Lebowski and what we take from cinema
Sometimes you really really really need to watch it a second time.
Early last week, I watched The Big Lebowski for the first time. To say I hated it would be an understatement. It got under my skin and unsettled me more than any good horror film ever could. It unnerved me.
Several days later, I watched the film again. I finished the second viewing certain I had just witnessed a masterpiece. The funny thing is, I don’t even think I was watching it “wrong” the first time, and my initial extremely negative response actually speaks to the movie’s power.
Aw hell, I done introduced this article enough...
When I was a teenager, I’d be sat watching TV and sometimes my dad would walk in the room. He’d say something like “you’re so laid back” or “you’re so chill, not a care in the world”. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was stressed out of my mind, worrying about every possible thing worth worrying about and plenty more that aren’t worth it at all. I’d have a look on my face that appeared totally at peace when I was really falling apart.
At university, I’d often be terrified of receiving feedback for the work I’d handed in. We’d have to go to an office in the department to pick up the essays we’d previously handed in, and it was an experience I dreaded. I’d often go a long time before picking them up, and there are some still sitting there that I never had the courage to read the feedback on (yes, I am aware this is a terrible practice for a student to have). The thought of what they’d say filled me with such dread.
One day, I was emailing a professor about an idea for my next essay and he mentioned that I was the only person who still hadn’t picked up my last one. Then the terrible truth hit me: he thought I didn’t care. He thought I was just drifting through my degree without wanting to put any effort in and really learn, when the truth was that I was absolutely panicking about the whole experience and sticking my head in the sand.
Both my dad and this professor looked at me and saw the same mask I didn’t even know I was wearing: a laid back, no care in the world guy who didn’t give enough of a shit to try or put in any effort to work. They had no idea of what was underneath: a confused trans girl absolutely terrified of everything she was doing and what anyone might have thought of her, constantly stressed out about every little thing.
In other words, they saw “The Dude”.
In case you’ve been living under a rock, The Big Lebowski is about Jeffrey “The Dude” Lebowski, a laid back, lazy guy who doesn’t have a care in the world beyond bowling. A former hippie who just watched on as the establishment won the war, he finds himself in middle age just drifting through life, and drifting through the plot of the film. While he doesn’t have anything like the good fortune of the other Jeffrey Lebowski’s inherited wealth, his privileges help keep him just about afloat to continue his life of not doing much work in Los Angeles. In some ways it feels like a great work of capitalist realism, showing how a man once involved in dreams of changing the world forever has basically given up, and is now content to find enjoyment in his ultra low ambition lifestyle. It can certainly sit alongside something like the TV series Party Down as great art about what it means to live in LA and just give up on dreams.
The first time I watched the film, it terrified me that this is who people saw me becoming. I became so fixated on who this guy was and how weirdly content he was living my nightmare. The film seemed so filtered through this perspective that it felt like the Ghost of Christmas Future, lest I change my ways. I felt almost physically ill by the end of The Big Lebowski.
But here’s the thing: it struck such a chord with me because it was so well crafted. A film in which The Dude and the world he lived in felt less true would not have had the same effect. The Big Lebowski is one of the best movies I’ve ever seen at building an authentic world filled with real people to hang out in, and that’s why it scared me. It felt like something that could happen. It was something that made me feel sick to my stomach.
But here’s what made me feel better about the film: The Dude is happy with his life. He’s doing what he wants to do and enjoying himself. Things could be better, yes, but his low-ambition lazy life isn’t a failure. It’s something he’s comfortable with. This is who he really, authentically is. It could never be me because it’s not who I really, authentically am. A mask is just a mask and that’s not who I am if I say so.
I had to watch the film again just to get my thoughts straight on it. What I found were some things I already knew to be the case: this film has the most beautifully precise visuals beyond what’s expected of any hangout comedy. It has a deliberately nonsense plot but nevertheless not a second of it could be changed without losing something relevant. What I didn’t appreciate was how much of an ensemble piece it is, and how it has truths about all of its characters. The other Lebowski is just as much of a layabout as The Dude. Walter isn’t comic relief but someone really broken after the trouble from a war The Dude probably protested against. It builds such a rich world of vivid characters, and none of it ever feels meandering. You could not give a single note to the Coens about the film that would improve the final product. However you feel about the story being told, it is the best imaginable telling of that story.
I had to take myself out of the film to appreciate it. We all love to observe how fictional characters relate to our realities, but sometimes we need to remind ourselves of how they differ. The Big Lebowski is the truest possible tale of The Dude and the Los Angeles he lives in. It is not about my life, and thank God it isn’t.