Maybe it’s because I was under the weather, having picked up this deadly virus from The Boy after sharing popcorn with him at Mockingjay—because, honestly, I’m so used to my kid drooling and wiping their noses on me when they’re sick, I figure I’m immune—or maybe it’s because it’s the 40th time I’ve seen it, but in this latest showing of The Big Lebowski I took The Flower to, I found myself noticing the seams and contrivances a lot.
I’ll probably only watch it 20 or 30 more times before I get tired of it. Heh.
It was especially cool to have seen this just before seeing The Maltese Falcon in the TCM series, as Lebowski is a ’40s film noir transported to the L.A. of the ’90s.
But apart from that, I don’t actually have a lot to say.