A botched card game in London triggers four friends, thugs, weed-growers, hard gangsters, loan sharks and debt collectors to collide with each other in a series of unexpected events, all for the sake of weed, cash and two antique shotguns.
A family heads to an isolated hotel for the winter where an evil spiritual presence influences the father into violence, while his psychic son sees horrific forebodings from the past and of the future.
A mentally unstable veteran works as a nighttime taxi driver in New York City, where the perceived decadence and sleaze fuels his urge for violent action, while attempting to liberate a twelve-year-old prostitute.
Robert De Niro,
When "The Dude" Lebowski is mistaken for a millionaire Lebowski, two thugs urinate on his rug to coerce him into paying a debt he knows nothing about. While attempting to gain recompense for the ruined rug from his wealthy counterpart, he accepts a one-time job with high pay-off. He enlists the help of his bowling buddy, Walter, a gun-toting Jewish-convert with anger issues. Deception leads to more trouble, and it soon seems that everyone from porn empire tycoons to nihilists want something from The Dude. Written by
With the exception of The Dude helping Maude bowl in a fantasy, The Dude is never actually seen bowling. See more »
Walter draws the firearm and the Dude says, "Man, they're calling the cops." The cops show up as they are leaving. A call from Smokey and Dude and Walter's tournament advancement imply that they stayed long enough to win the round. This is presumably a sly comment on the lethargic response time of LAPD to what they consider a non-urgent call. See more »
Way out west there was this fella... fella I wanna tell ya about. Fella by the name of Jeff Lebowski. At least that was the handle his loving parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself. Mr. Lebowski, he called himself "The Dude". Now, "Dude" - that's a name no one would self-apply where I come from. But then there was a lot about the Dude that didn't make a whole lot of sense. And a lot about where he lived, likewise. But then again, maybe that's why I ...
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Those Coen brothers have an ear for language. You feel it in the sing-songy banalities of Fargo, and in the noiresque machine-gun dialogue of Miller's Crossing, but neither of these can prepare you for the feast for the ears that is The Big Lebowski.
Channeling the opaque mysteries of Raymond Chandler, the Coens throw LA resident bum and Bowling aficionado Jeff Lebowski ("The Dude" to his friends) into a strange triple-crossing case of kidnapping, ransoms, nihilists and urinated-upon rugs. It is the equivalent of throwing unrelenting forces at an immovable object, the Dude's bemused stoicism at constant odds with the world around him. He'd much rather be bowling with crazed Vietnam Vet Walter (John Goodman) and pure silent soul Donnie (Steve Buscemi).
As with so much of the Coens' output, style is more than half the point: not just visual, though ace DP Roger Deakins paints an alluring canvas, but tonal and auditory. This is an insanely funny head-trip of a movie, with wonderfully idiosyncratic characters, down to the smallest part. Who better than the Coens to reinvent the comedy of errors?
This is without a doubt one of their very best, a personal favorite, an unmissable film and the kind of experience that will plant an indelible smile on your face. Do yourself and see this now, if you haven't already.
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