A&E: The Dudes Abide

We all have our obsessions. I've been to enough comic book conventions, Star Trek gatherings and showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show to find more amusement than pathos in the costumed followers of various niche movies and TV shows. My friend Jason, who tagged along with me to Lebowski Fest West, a two-day celebration of the 1998 Coen brothers film The Big Lebowski, was a little more put off by people like Rick Young, a Cleveland pharmaceutical sales rep who spent the weekend as Jesus Quintana, John Turturro's Lebowski character. Like Klingon warriors speaking only in their "native" tongue, Young stayed in character a remarkable amount of the time, playing the cocky Latino bowler known as "The Jesus" perfectly, especially given that he only had about two scenes' worth of dialogue to recite over and over again.

But that focus on minutiae was what the festival was about. How else do you turn a two-hour film into an entire

weekend's worth of activities? On Friday night, Jason and I headed over to the Imperial Palace Hotel, the event's unofficial headquarters, for a screening of the film in a roomful of Lebowski freaks. For those not in the know (and there are many; Lebowski was a box-office disappointment on its initial release), it's the story of chronic slacker Jeff Lebowski (Jeff Bridges), more commonly known as the Dude, who gets involved in a kidnapping scheme in Los Angeles in 1991. It's not so much about the plot, though, as it is about the insane cast of characters Joel and Ethan Coen throw at the audience, from the Dude's best friend, crazy Vietnam vet Walter (John Goodman); to the aforementioned Jesus (John Turturro); to soft-spoken bowling aficionado Donny (Steve Buscemi);

to "vaginal" artist Maude Lebowski (Julianne Moore); to any of the literally dozens of other minor characters who populate the film, nearly all of whom were represented in costume at some point during the weekend.

Perhaps it was the Dude's laid-back vibe making its way into the event, but the entire evening smacked of poor planning. The Imperial Palace's cavernous conference room was the wrong place for a screening: The lights never went off, the sound was muddy, and the DVD projection onto a wall was often distorted. But aside from a few cries of "Turn the lights off!", the audience just went with it, shouting out lines and even reenacting a few scenes. There was a sing-along to "Viva Las Vegas," glasses raised at the scattering of Donny's ashes, and a standing

ovation at the end. Weekly midnight screenings are probably not far behind.

Friday was nothing compared to Saturday night, when the festivities moved to Sunset Lanes for bowling, costume and trivia contests, and plenty of Lebowski fans drunk on white Russians, the Dude's drink of choice. The event had sold out weeks in advance. James Hoosier, who had a small role (without lines) in the film, had drawn a standing ovation Friday and was back to sign autographs. Jeff Dowd, an indie movie producer, friend of the Coens and inspiration for the Dude, also was on hand. Both looked a little overwhelmed at the various Dudes, Jesuses and Maudes running around, not to mention the pair in nude body suits with strategically placed fake leaves, a guy in a makeshift iron lung, a couple with a Pomeranian just like Walter's, and other strangely dressed, line-quoting geeks.

I did my part, wearing a T-shirt from In-N-Out ("Those are

good burgers, Dude," as Donny says), and Jason made an attempt to dress as minor character Larry Sellers, although no one realized it unless he pointed it out. The line to get in was like waiting outside a rock concert, with scalpers and guys selling bootleg T-shirts out of their car trunk. Inside, organizers Will Russell and Scott Shuffitt, friends from Louisville, Kentucky, who have mounted two Lebowski Fests back home and are now intent on taking the event nationwide, struggled to keep control, get everyone a lane, and explain the contests' rules.

It was a genial kind of chaos, though, and Jason and I made our way over to a lane which we ended up sharing with a trio of locals. I even bowled a 97, much better than my normal score. Perhaps the spirit of the Dude flowed through me. Jason rustled up Hoosier and Rick Young, the dedicated Jesus, to bowl frames for him. We watched two

different documentary crews, one making a film on the festival, the other on Dowd, roam the lanes, and spotted journalists from two national music magazines. We chatted up a student from Occidental College in LA who was working on a thesis titled The Dude Abides, America Does Not for her women's studies major.

From deconstructionists to drunk bowlers, it somehow all fit into the Lebowski paradigm. Unlike The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Lebowski is enjoyed by most of its fans without a sense of irony or camp. It really is a good movie, funny, complex and full of great performances. And the Dude's laid-back lifestyle is inspiring in its nonconformist way. "I'm so happy," one guy yelled with glee, right before the movie started on Friday night. The Dude would be proud.