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Sunday, December 22, 2013

The Big Lebowski - The Reluctant Psychoanalyst Revisits a Cult Classic

  Movie night is becoming a political phenomenon in the home of the Reluctant Psychoanalyst.  The children, all teenagers, are watching increasingly complex, adult-themed material, though much of it is quite immaturely conceived and executed.  The (sometimes) Reluctant Parents are excited by the increasing ability of the teens to watch "mature" movies so that we can share some of our favorite films with them, while we are simultaneously appalled at the unbridled carnality they seem, at times, to prefer.  So it seemed like the time to try the Big Lebowski, the Coen brothers film, on them.  Once cool and somewhat hip, at least to our generation; what would it evoke in them?

Before I get to that - a little background.  The Big Lebowski is one of those movies that, when we were dating, the future Reluctant Wife could not believe that I had not seen.  I have endured this before.  Patients could not believe I had not seen Gone with the Wind; students could not believe I had not seen the Godfather series.  And each time I have watched a "must see", I have appreciated being able, finally, to share in something that helped me feel more a part of the greater culture.  In this case, a subculture.  But I have to admit that, as much as I liked The Big Lebowski, I didn't really get it.  Besides being at moments surreal, it was also confusing.  The various strands of the movie did not fit neatly together for me, and instead it felt funny but dissatisfying - almost empty or hollow.

So, when we decided to screen it with the kids, I decided to offer some "helpful" narrative.  In particular, I pointed out the opening narrator as a character that would show up later in the film, as well as trying to point out important people who appeared and trying to help the kids (and myself) keep the various strands straight by tracking the relationships among the various characters.  Of course, this is dicey territory.  A little commentary goes a long way and I tried to keep the comments to a minimum; but actually a conversation broke out during, but more importantly after the film.

Jeff Bridges plays Jeff Lebowski, or, as he prefers,The Dude.  The Dude is an LA slacker with no apparent means of financial support and relatively few other social supports (he has two friends with whom he bowls and his landlord whose art dance escapades he watches - perhaps in lieu of rent), or psychologically supports (except for the consistent use of marijuana).  He is just a dude, but refers to himself solely as The Dude.  But he becomes the focus of the movie, which the narrator, known only as the Stranger, deems interesting, because he shares a name with Jeffrey Lebowski - the Big Lebowski, whose wife bunny owes money to a porn movie director (whom she used to - or maybe still does - work for) who, in turn, sends thugs to mess up the wrong Lebowski, the Dude, and in addition to dunking his head in a toilet, they pee on his rug.  When the Dude asks them to look around to see if he is a millionaire, they take in his hovel and acknowledge their mistake - and this could have been the end of the whole thing.



The Dude is not one to make a mountain out of a molehill, but he is upset by having thugs break into his home.  As he talks about it with his buddies at the bowling alley; his buddy Walter (played by John Goodman), is not just incensed, but urges the Dude to action.  Their third friend, Donny (Steve Buschemi) is clueless, annoying, and bullied by Walter, but an integral part of the threesome.  His presence, I think, helps us realize the virtues of The Dude.  The Dude is not annoying, nor is he as passive as he appears.  He engages in a series of escapades, fueled by Walter's unrelenting aggression and groundless desire to be potent (something that is oddly mirrored by the Big Lebowski when we get to know what lies behind his bluster).  The Stranger comments that he likes The Dude's style, and joins him at the bowling alley bar for a drink of Sasparilla.  The Stranger also ties the movie up - so far as it gets tied up - by reappearing at the bar at the end of the movie and offering a narrative summary.

And it was about the Stranger that my post movie conversation began with the older Reluctant Stepdaughter.  We discussed the movie as we drove the Enthusiastic Boyfriend home and it continued as we drove back.  We began as she attacked the Stranger as unnecessary and the ending as dissatisfying because the narrator acted as if things were tied up when they were not.  I, as much to engage in the conversation as because I believed it, took the position that the Stranger was essential.  Together we puzzled over this and concluded that one reason the Stranger is essential is that the movie could, without the Stranger, who introduces it as a Western and who is dressed in Western regalia, be misperceived as an Eastern Philosophy/Zen/Taoist movie.

The Dude - who famously, at the end of the movie, abides - is, the Stranger would have us believe, not Eastern in his essence, but Western - and not just Western philosophy, but Wild Western - rugged Reagan individualism Western.  And, as the reluctant Stepdaughter pointed out, he is the only character in the movie with integrity - with centeredness.  He takes what comes very matter of factly.  He observes it and thinks about it - he addresses it and mulls it over.  He presents it to his friends, who encourage him to act - and he acts with them.  But he is not concerned by all that goes on.  He - in the stoic tradition - is relatively unmoved by all that happens.  He seeks justice - what he believes to be fair compensation for what has befallen him - but he does not desire more than to be able to keep ambling on - living life as it occurs to him.  And this is, perhaps, the essence of our heroes from Western Films - Shane or the characters that Clint Eastwood portrays; Bruce Carradine in Kung Fu, to mix the Western with the Eastern.

So this becomes, we decided, a movie not about plot but about character.  It is the story of everyman - or an idealized everyman.  Someone who is able to take what life casts his way - not as the Big Lebowski would have us believe; achieving as the result of setting a goal and shooting for it - but instead doing something much more human and real, taking what is in front of him and making the best of it while retaining a sense of integrity.  On an entirely different level - to think of the Dude as being a character that includes not just Jeff Lebowski, but Walter and Donnie as well - to think about the human task being one of listening to, but retaining mastery over our inner desire to run full on into the teeth of whatever is out there (a la Walter), while also keeping ourselves from running away from what ever threat may present itself (a la Donny).  And the Dude does this.

The most important moment in the movie, I think, is when the Dude unravels the mystery of what happened to the million dollar ransom and the reason that we was hired to be the drop man for it.  OK, I realize I haven't given you any context for this.  I'll let the movie do that, if you choose to watch it, but you should know that this viewer, at least, even on a second viewing, didn't get it.  The Dude did.  It turns out that he can actually be pretty smart when he gets all the needed information and when he has been knocked around enough that he becomes actively engaged in not just following the next piece of bait set out for him but interested in understanding the whole picture.

In psychoanalysis, our patients are pretty smart to begin with, but they get smarter as things move along.  They begin to see patterns and they also begin to lose inhibitions.  So rather than deferring to others, they start becoming more assertive.  This is a good thing.  One common observation, especially of low fee analyses - the kind of analysis that many in training provide as they start to practice as analysts - is that as patients engage in their analyses they start to earn more money - sometimes significantly more money - and they can afford higher fees.  This is a good thing in many cases.  But sometimes it is given too much weight - in this analyst's opinion.  Not the income, per se, but the association of uninhibited or assertive, but even aggressive action with being "well analyzed" or psychologically healthy.

The goal of psychoanalysis is to freely associate (it is what the analysand is told to do - but also must learn to do in the process of treatment).  When that is achieved, and when that occurs not just in the analytic hour - meaning that the person's thought is no longer constrained by neurotic conflicts - the person can think more clearly, as The Dude does when he solves the problem.  But the Dude does not go on to solve the problem of world peace, he plays in the semifinals of the bowling tournament.  The cowboy rides off into the sunset - in search of other adventures, perhaps not enriched by all that has happened except in so far as he has the satisfaction of knowing that he has and can survive whatever he has been confronted by.  While in the analytic world, this may lead to riches - the analysand is less conflicted and thus better able to solve problems and to appropriately value his or her contribution to the solution, that is a byproduct, in my opinion, rather than the end result.  The analytic community might benefit from observing that neither The Big Lebowsky nor Walter are the true heroes of this story, the Dude, who abides, is.

Another way of saying this, then, may be that the goal of the Dude (and analysis) is neither Western nor Eastern, but an interesting amalgam - a shifting of the lens so that both are in sight but neither is the goal.  If Walter is a cartoon version of the western ideal- Donnie, who ends up as ashes, might be a cartoon version of the eastern one.  Our task is to use foundations that are human, incompatible with each other, and ultimately incompatible with, though informative to a third direction - one that is, or can be, our own.  As we move beyond being the puppet of our desires, as we move from doing what we have to what we want to do, we move into the range of being The Dude.

The Reluctant Stepdaughter and I benefited from our conversation about the film.  We agreed that we both understood the movie and liked it better for having talked about it.  It was still, at least for me, somewhat disappointing because the plot did not neatly resolve, though it was better resolved than I thought (the Reluctant Stepdaughter brilliantly tied many plot elements together) and I think we got it, in part as a result of doing it, that this was not the point.  At the very beginning of the film, the Dude is in a convenience store.  He samples a half gallon of milk before writing a 69 cent check for it.  He is willing to pay for something, but he wants to make sure he won't get gypped.  We got our money's worth from the movie as a result of having talked about it.

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2 comments:

  1. We should talk about the relationships between the image of rug, cutting of penis (jackson!), develuation of woman discourse and passivism of main character. What do you think about that?

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  2. All good images/ themes that could be considered not just in this film but in the context of the Coen brothers oeuvre. We have recently watched Hail Caesar and The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. I have blogged on neither, but the idea of the passive hero is, I think, present in both. Part of what I allude to in this post is that a conversation about a film can (joyfully) range far beyond what can be captured in a 2000 word post. Thanks for providing spring boards to such conversations.

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