"Your revolution is over, Mr. Lebowski.
Condolences."
From appearances, it might seem that way, at least to
the other Mr. Lebowski, the one who lives in a mansion and runs charitable
foundations like the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers
... more(and proud we are of all of
them) and tells the Dude (or Dudeness or Duder or El Duderino if you're not into
the whole brevity thing) to make like his parents and get a
job.
Admittedly, the Dude doesn't have much to show for his
radical '60s activism (he claims he was one of the Seattle Seven). Jobless,
chronically behind in paying the rent on his rat-hole apartment (though he does
own a nice rug that really ties the room together), the Dude probably has just
enough money in his account to cover that 69-cent check he writes for the
half-and-half he buys at Ralph's.
Look closer, though, and there's
a reason the Dude is the most beloved hippie in the history of film, the
inspiration behind the naturally zesty enterprise known as Lebowski Fest as well
as its own religion. (It don't matter to Jesus.) Tossed into a Raymond
Chandler-esque whodunit with a lotta ins, lotta outs and a lotta what-have-yous,
the Dude acquits himself as a pretty good gumshoe. But mostly, he's a hero
simply because he's comfortable in his own skin and open-toed
jellies.
Sam Elliott's Stranger takes comfort in that self-confidence
and, clearly, he's not alone. The Dude still abides, takin' 'er easy for all us
sinners.
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