We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I must be the only person in the world to think that movie was the most boring thing I've ever sat through. I wonder if I should give it a second chance. I thought I saw another reference to it here... mistaken, I guess.
I think if you understand it as an absurdist sendup of a number of different subcultures using some smart dialogue posing as dumb dialogue, it's pretty funny - David Mamet for slackers.
The Dude seduces the completely fatuous artist by telling her he wrote the Port Huron statement - well, the rough draft anyhow. And the Seattle Seven - "that was me. Oh yeah, and six other guys." Meanwhile, she's telling him not to be fatuous - and she paints in the nude while swinging from a trapeze, a female absurdist Jackson Pollock. The Walter Sobchak character is a professional Vietnam veteran - everything's about The Nam even though he's 49 years old and running a bidness in LA. The upstanding citizen Lebowski is running a scam and his wife is a porn starlet. Meanwhile the porn lord she's mixed up with is more of a ruthless capitalist and understands good business practices (and bad ones) better than the upstanding citizen/industrialist Lebowski, who couldn't business his way out of a paper bag. And then there's the word play, and Sam Shepherd...
It's one of the Coen Brothers that sticks with me really persistently. I guess it's not for everybody.
For clarification, Al, I wasn't intending to be judgmental concerning those who appreciate the movie. I'm more than willing to admit that my predilection for subtlety, nuance and word play might at best be termed neolithic in character. But I suppose beyond that I find calculated absurdest send-ups somewhat lacking when compared to the absurdities of the real world that exists around us. And thus springs my boredom.
Jappy, you're welcome. That poem reminds me to pull up my big girl panties and keep moving. Agreed on the chocolate/vanilla comments above - Coen Bros films are either your cup of tea, or not; I don't know many people who give them a 5 on a 1-10 scale.
As for the belly laughs Buddy - I love the Sobchak line when they find out the kidnappers are nihilists: "Nihilists! F*** me. I mean, say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos." That, and the critique of the new left and creeping political correctness: - "The chinaman is not the issue here, Dude. I'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, Dude. Across this line, you DO NOT... Also, Dude, chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. Asian-American, please." I don't know their politics, which means the Coen Bros are good satirists; they seem to skewer everybody. Goodman is also superb in the movie - the scene where he beats up the Corvette gets me howling every time.