The Greatest Story Ever Told.

Rating: Null/10 (16 December 2003)

I, as you, dear reader, probably do too, make it a point to sit around
the fireplace with my children and their children's children during
the holidays, eating candied yams and watching The Big
Lebowski. It's a family experience that bonds us ever closer each
passing year. We laugh in sorrow and weep in joy.
It's got it all! German nihilists that don't believe in anything!
Androgynous flamenco bowlers! Flying femenist avantgarde
painter people! Smut videos with exotic accents filmed in glorious
video! Furry little mammals in harnesses! White Russians made
with powdered milk! Iron lungs! Photos of farmhouses just a bit
west from way out in the middle of nowhere!
Witness the Dude get kicked around from one limo into another.
Feel the bubbles caressing your back as the bathtub turns into a
whirlpool. Learn a thing or two from the Dude on how NOT to
barricade yourself at home. Grab hints from the Dude as how to
squeeze the most out of your Walkman on those lonely weeknights. And above all, appreciate the value of being polite to
cab drivers, because, you know, they are people too, with feelings.
Yes ma'am, The Big Lebowski has got it all, hanging together as a
room does when there's a nice carpet laying about. An
epistemology lesson in easy to swallow pink tablets, a musical
extravaganza that puts any old C-Span book signing broadcast to
shame, a buzzard flapping its' wings in Nevada and creating a
blanket of fog over London, The Big Lebowski is all this, and
maybe just a little bit more, but don't quote me on that one.
Just one thing, though. Does the Dude really have to cuss so
much?
For consistently putting me in a cheery mood, lower to mid nines
out of ten.