Well, Dude, We Just Don't Know
I was probably 13 or 14 when I first saw The Big Lebowski. I don’t recall how I happened to come upon it, but it was one of those films that changed the way I would see movies for the rest of my life. It was nonsensical, yet it somehow had substance. It meant nothing, yet it meant so much. It could be disregarded as a bizarre stream of consciousness, yet it could be subjected to an in-depth analysis, urging you to peel back layer after complex layer. It is one of those movies that makes you interpret its content- whether you want to or not- in order to understand one way or another just what in the hell is going on in the film. And the beautiful thing about it is that it gives you the space to interpret. But you know, that’s just, like, my opinion, man.
After seeing The Big Lebowski for the first time, it became one of my favorite films and remains so today. There is a bizarre and gorgeously unorganized brilliance about the movie that I haven’t seen on screen before or since. Each of the characters is uniquely singular, each of them bringing something different to the table, making the movie the spectacularly strange work that it is. Before sitting down to write this, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s character, Brandt, always seemed to blend into the background of the film, while the more notable ones seemingly stole the show. But when I thought for a bit about Brandt and what purpose he served in the film, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it before during one of the many, many times I’ve seen the movie.
And Philip Seymour Hoffman was the perfect Brandt. Absolutely perfect.
We first meet Brandt when he is ushering The Dude around Jeffrey “The Big” Lebowski’s home, explaining his various awards and exactly who the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers are. His discomfort is visible; an uneasy tug at his tie, his request that The Dude not touch Mr. Lebowski’s plethora of plaques and well-timed photographs, his attempts to reroute the conversation back to content that is politically correct and pre-scripted when The Dude lets loose from his lips all sorts of ideas and vocabulary that is deemed inappropriate. And of course, a nervous laugh. Teeth uncomfortably grinning, eyebrows raised in shock, arms flapping at his sides. Sure, the character was part of a script and someone would have landed the part, but Philip Seymour Hoffman was the one who created Brandt and brought the character to life, endowing him with such perfectly crafted quirks that even the audience feels the need to cringe along with Brandt when he encounters an awkward situation. And there are many.
But I digress…
While The Dude is busy sorting out the details of whether or not Bunny Lebowski was really kidnapped, and while Walter Sobchak is concerned with fixing the schedule for the tournament because he doesn’t roll on Shabbos, Brandt is behind the scenes as the go-between for the two Lebowskis, trying to keep the peace, trying to make everything work. In a weird but also pretty obvious way (although I didn’t realize it until now), Brandt brings things together and allows for there to be a connection between The Dude and Mr. Lebowski, between the mellow and the uptight, between the nonsensical and the substantive. Brandt’s frantic desire to placate both Lebowskis and simultaneously act as the middleman/ interpreter/ friend of each Lebowski is the bridge between the film’s two opposing hemispheres and is what makes it all possible. Brandt strives to make sense of the situation that he finds himself in and tries to keep things on track, struggling to somehow organize the chaos.
And I’ll say it again- Philip Seymour Hoffman pulled it off flawlessly.
It is an understatement to say that it’s a shame Hoffman passed so young. It is such a loss to the acting world and to be honest, I’m not quite sure if anyone will be able to fill his shoes. When he played a character, he put his whole being into his work and made it seem almost effortless. It’s hard to believe that the same man who introduced the world to the phrase “I just sharted” won an Oscar for his role in
Capote. But that’s the kind of actor he was. He could be anyone. And we were happy to watch, but so sad to see him go.
He really tied a film together.
Laura Seldner appreciates the laughter of her children and the millions upon millions of beautiful individual moments that come together to make up a single lifetime.
[Editor's Note: I saw The Big Lebowski for the first time with Laura. I had never seen anything like it. That remains one of my favorite first-watches of all time.]