Thus "The Big Lebowski" pokes fun not only at the rich and famous, but also at all those complicated and formal plot-structures that keep our minds glued to the screen while we try to work out who's who and what's what.

Jeff Bridges is the central character of the film--neither hero nor anti-hero--he's a 70's throwback named Lebowski who prefers to be called "The Dude." He doesn't do much with his life, beyond smoke dope, drink White Russians and go bowling with his buddies, Walter and Donny.

When the film opens, we see The Dude violently attacked by two thugs who have confused him with another Lebowski, one who's rich, famous, and powerful. In an attempt to extract money from him to pay off his wife's debts, the thugs fling The Dude's head in a commode and urinate on his rug. The Dude is not happy about this, for one thing, doesn't have a wife, but even worse, his rug is ruined. So as he sees it, the big Lebowski owes him a new rug.

So far, so good, we have a typical beginning whereby the equilibrium of life is shattered by a chaotic act that will spark a further chain of events leading to a logical conclusion whereby all mysteries are clarified and resolved. But that's exactly what doesn't happen here. There's nothing logical about this plot. Indeed, the film appears to deconstruct the typical murder mystery format, to follow any and every twist that occurs to the Cohen brothers.

In a season littered with noir mysteries, and apparently more on the way, it's rather nice to see a more playful approach to plot, which are horribly convoluted and complicated, yet even raving idiots can stumble into and solve. Hence The Dude, always stoned, drunk, or both, and Walter, who only speaks in postmodern jargon colored on his experiences as a Vietnam Vet, somehow randomly stumble in the right direction to unravel this crazy plot.

I loved this film. I've always felt the Coens had a perfect sense of comic timing, and Big Lebowski is no exception. Another typical feature of a Coen film is the juicy-ness of the roles with plenty of opportunity to play. I loved the ridiculous charm of Jeff Bridges as the laidback slob that is the Dude, and John Goodman might be made to play Walter. John Turturro is even more outlandish than usual as Jesus, a bowling maniac in pastel pitsuit and hairnet, and Julieanne Moore's performance artist flying through the air naked and dripping with paint is worth the price of the ticket alone.

Go see "The Big Lebowski." It's typical anti-establishment, but it's also anti-itself, and that alone is worth the price of admission.