The Big Lebowski and Slothfulness

This is another one of those films that is really fun to discuss here on this church-based site because … it is absolutely not a Sunday movie. (IMDb has it counted at 284 uses of the f-bomb, and many of the characters are professional pornographers.) Keep that in mind as you decide whether you wish to engage with this piece or the film it is examining. Anyways …

The thing to know about the Coen Brothers’ cult classic, The Big Lebowski, is that there is absolutely no rhyme or reason to anything that happens here. The film sees Jeffrey “The Dude” Lebowski, an even-tempered slacker, being thrown into a bizarre scheme because he happens to have the same as a local billionaire whose wife owes some people some money.

There’s narrative connection between events, yes. But who goes home from the grocery store prepared to have their head shoved in a toilet by two hitmen(?), who then proceed to pee on their rug? What should The Dude have done to not be mistaken for a scheming billionaire who happened to have the same name as him? My favorite part of the film has The Nihilists ambush The Dude in the bathtub and sic a marmot on him specifically trained to attack his genitals. The situation is just impossible to anticipate, and that spontaneity is what makes this film so mercilessly entertaining.

This backdrop of nonsense is also what makes The Dude, dedicated slacker that he is, so appealing as a protagonist. He’s so above it all. All he wants is just some peace and quiet, and to get his rug reimbursed. The Dude lets us sit back and laugh at the sheer absurdity of lines like, “You want a toe? I can get you a toe by 3 in the afternoon–with nail polish!” He’s the smartest guy in the room, and all he has to do is mind his own business and simply refuse to engage with the world.

And that’s where I find myself pressing pause and mulling over what this film is really about.

The Dude is an unemployed man (who can still somehow afford an apartment) with no ambition. Not career-wise. Not in relationships. His decades-long gap year has left him to leave no mark on society whatsoever, outside of his bowling league. He has no desire to do anything. The only guys in this film who allow themselves to get emotionally invested in things are the guys who end up looking really, really stupid. The film winds up confronting the audience with how much human stress is actually self-generated. We are constantly aware that everyone’s lives would be so much easier if they just stopped getting so hung up over things–if, in other words, they started being more like The Dude and just stopped engaging with the world.

Many of the Coen brothers’ most famous works (e.g. No Country for Old Men) sort of pride themselves on their hyper-intellectual approach to nihilism. They sort of find ways to punk! viewers who attempt to string any semblance of meaning or coherence from the pandemonium of living. It’s a belief system that feels somewhat hostile to certain other worldviews–particularly this idea that there is a benevolent being guiding the universe. And so it almost feels like the film is championing a kind of intellectual and social laziness, not to mention general slothfulness. “What’s the point of even trying, amiright?” And the world being what it is, I think that’s worth grilling a little.

Now, lest you think I’m ganging up on your favorite movie …

Something essential to note is who The Dude in all his manic laxity is being contrasted against. The Dude is not choosing his hermetic wallowing at the expense of some disadvantaged group. He’s exposing the fragile egos and foolish antics of business titans, con-men, and law enforcement. It’s also not like a Toy Story 2 situation where Woody is actively retreating from some specific purpose simply because it’s too hard. The film sort of imagines a network where we just don’t have to worry about these things.

I suppose we could question the merit of that presentation, but you also see how this lifestyle sets him apart from a bunch of men in suits who are constantly screaming over nothing, and I think there’s something valid there. We can also see how The Dude in many ways is a much better model for social harmony than anyone else.

Unlike his agitators, The Dude is perfectly agreeable with the people in his network. His best friend, Walter, is a power-keg and prone to his own displays of absurdity, but The Dude keeps him around anyways. Even the individuals who are awful to him wind up, he never really gives them the level of blowback they deserve. By all means, he’s a decent guy.

The Dude embodies some bit of wisdom that the larger world fails to appreciate–that a person’s worth is not and never has been tied up in what they contribute to a worldly economy. Film as a whole is actually a great medium for reminding us of what the human experience itself is worth–The Dude is not great because he built some large building. He is great because inviting him onto our screens helps us unwind from a world that, yes, takes itself way too seriously at times. That’s something that is severely undervalued.

Could you take that too far? Yes. Same as most any ideology. I think the onus is on us to learn how to balance this desire to abstain from worldly nonsense with the necessity to be active agents pursuing righteous causes.

But, yeah. In a world filled with all manner of buffoons running the show from the top of the pyramid, it is good knowing that The Dude abides.