The Big Lebowski (1998)

THE BIG LEBOWSKI (1998) Four stars
The Coen Brothers’ THE BIG LEBOWSKI starts with a brilliant idea: Why not take a blissed out former 1960s radical who loves his White Russians and his bowling with his two best mates and place him right smack dab in the heart of a labyrinthine plot straight from THE BIG SLEEP.

You might remember Howard Hawks’ 1946 classic, starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. That’s the one where writer Raymond Chandler famously said of the identity of the murderer of the Sternwoods’ chauffeur, “I don’t know.” Apparently, neither did Hawks or any of the various writers — William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett, Jules Furthman, and Phiip Epstein — involved with the screen adaptation of Chandler’s 1939 novel.

How does Jeffrey “The Dude” Lebowski react to such a convoluted plot?

I believe he explains it as such, “This is a very complicated case. You know, a lotta ins, lotta outs, lotta what-have-you’s. And, uh, lotta strands to keep in my head, man. Lotta strands in old Duder’s head. Luckily I’m adhering to a pretty strict, uh, drug regimen to keep my mind, you know, limber.”

Main characters “The Dude” and Walter Sobchack are known to be inspired by a couple Hollywood eccentrics: Jeff Dowd and John Milius.

Dowd was a member of the Seattle Liberation Front, a radical anti-Vietnam War protest group that became known as the Seattle Seven. Lebowski mentions this fact in THE BIG LEBOWSKI.

Dowd then became a producer’s representative, a consulting producer, creative consultant, post-production consultant, producer, and executive producer. Those are some of his credits.

Ethan and Joel Coen first met Dowd around the time of their feature debut BLOOD SIMPLE.

I remember coming across him in the writings of Roger Ebert, for example a story from the 1999 Toronto Film Festival called “Dude Keeps Building a Rep.”

It starts out with Dowd telling Ebert that he’s got to see a movie called GOAT ON FIRE & SMILING FISH. Ebert’s in the press office at the Toronto Film Festival, only out of his hotel room four minutes before Dowd could find the critic. Dowd hands Ebert two Xeroxed sheets stapled together promoting GOAT ON FIRE & SMILING FISH.

Ebert wrote, “The Dude’s name is Jeff Dowd. He is tall and large and has a lot of unruly curly hair and a big mustache. If you saw the Coen Brothers movie THE BIG LEBOWSKI, Jeff Bridges was playing a character based on him, although the Dude is a great deal more abstentious than the Bridges character. If he were not, the movie would have been called THE LATE LEBOWSKI. The Coens and Dowd go back a long way, to 1984, when he was telling me, ‘You gotta see this one. It’s called BLOOD SIMPLE. These are the Coen Brothers.’”

Dowd “repped” THE BLACK STALLION, CHARIOTS OF FIRE, HOOSIERS, THE STUNT MAN, and THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT, just like he did GOAT ON FIRE & SMILING FISH.

Dowd to Ebert, “Just so people see them. I’d walk up and down the lines for hit movies, handing out brochures for what we were showing. The way I figure it is, who goes to movies? People who go to movies, that’s who. They may or may not read Premiere magazine. They may or may not watch TV. But they go to movies. So if Warner Bros. spends $40 million to promote a movie and they’re standing in line to see it, why not tell them about my movie?

“A lot of the movies, they’re not what they seem to be. You take THE BLACK STALLION. The studio said it would never appeal to children because the first 18 minutes were without dialogue. I hold a test screening. A little girl, 5 years old, is in front of me. She tells her mommy she has to pee. She gets up and stands on the aisle, still watching the screen, and she stands there for the next 10 minutes. Her knees are knocking together, she has to pee so bad, but she can’t stop watching. The whole history of THE BLACK STALLION was changed, right then and there.”

The St. Louis-born Milius’ writing credits include JEREMIAH JOHNSON, MAGNUM FORCE, APOCALYPSE NOW, 1941, and CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER. He both wrote and directed THE WIND AND THE LION, BIG WEDNESDAY, CONAN THE BARBARIAN, and RED DAWN. He’s not directed anything since 1997.

Milius says that Hollywood blacklisted him for his conservative beliefs.

He’s the disreputable one of the Film Brat Generation, whose friends and colleagues include Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, Francis Ford Coppola, and Brian DePalma.

A 2017 Indie Film Hustle story comes with the tagline “John Milius: The Craziest Director in Hollywood?”

“He’s a really funny guy, a really good storyteller,” Ethan Coen said of Milius in a book on THE BIG LEBOWSKI. “He was never actually in the military, although he wears a lot of military paraphernalia. He’s a gun enthusiast and survivalist type. Whenever we saw him, he’d invite us out to his house to look at his guns — although we never took him up on it.”

You can hear Milius’ storytelling abilities on commentaries for APOCALYPSE NOW, 1941, and CONAN THE BARBARIAN, for example.

Milius contributed Robert Shaw’s famous U.S.S. Indianapolis speech in JAWS (uncredited), some of Dirty Harry’s best lines, and all that stuff about surfing in APOCALYPSE NOW.

It helps that John Goodman, like Milius, is a native of the St. Louis area.

Bridges and Goodman have been two of the best actors working in the movies.

They’re probably as close to a guarantee of quality as anybody you can name.

“The Dude” and Walter are likely the characters they will be most associated with all their lives.

There’s lots of inspired madness throughout THE BIG LEBOWSKI.

Like the trippy production number called “Gutterballs,” combining bowling and Busby Berkeley, all scored by Kenny Rogers and the New Edition’s “Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In),” Rogers’ first Top 10 hit.

Like the German nihilists who have a band and album that are parodies of / homages to Kraftwerk, with the band name Autobahn and the album cover that’s similar to THE MAN-MACHINE.

Like utilizing gems like Bob Dylan’s “The Man in Me” and Captain Beefheart’s “Her Eyes Are A Blue Million Miles.”

Like Mr. Lebowski’s rant about the Eagles. Reportedly, Allen Klein (1931-2009) wanted $150,000 for usage of the Rolling Stones’ “Dead Flowers,” but he waived that licensing fee because he so loved the scene where “The Dude” hates on the Eagles. You’re not the only one, Mr. Klein.

THE BIG LEBOWSKI joins TWILIGHT ZONE: THE MOVIE and AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON for some of the best utilization of Creedence Clearwater Revival in a moving picture.

Coupled with BOOGIE NIGHTS (1997), THE BIG LEBOWSKI helped start my love affair with Julianne Moore, which continued over many, many years in everything from THE END OF THE AFFAIR to CHLOE.

Character actors Steve Buscemi, John Turturro, Ben Gazzara, David Huddleston, and Philip Seymour Hoffman all lend their abilities to the menagerie.

Never mind Sam Elliott’s voiceover narration.

I vividly remember coming across THE BIG LEBOWSKI when it came on Showtime in the late 1990s. I played the VHS dub I had for several friends and it became one of our favorite movies.

I’ve seen it many, many, many times over the years. It’s my favorite Coen Brothers movie, certainly far ahead of the overrated FARGO and NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN.

An old friend would seemingly only want to play THE BIG LEBOWSKI, FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS, and THE CROW, although he would also play the hell out of CITY LIGHTS, BLADE RUNNER, and SOME LIKE IT HOT as well, for that matter.

It’s been a while since I’ve watched it and I just might have to change that very, very soon.