There Was No Joy in Dudeville

The non-events of last weekend cast a pall over Toronto Achievers. White Russians didn’t taste quite as creamy, it was harder to pick up a spare at the lanes, and dammit, nobody was takin’ it easy for all us sinners. Yes, last weekend was supposed to be the first Canadian Lebowski Fest here in Toronto – a Canuck edition of the travelling celebration of all things Big Lebowski that was started by Kentuckyians Will Russell and Scott Shuffit in 2002 – but it was cancelled, due to “extenuating circumstances,” according to promoter LiveNation. (I suspect nihilists, of course, but perhaps I’m just being fatuous.)

Anyhow, since we experienced a Lebowski Fail, I figure I should encourage you to travel to the nearest Lebowski Fest or throw your own Big Lebowski-themed party because there are few things in life more worth achieving than being at a Gathering of the Dudes (and Dudettes, of course).

I myself hit the dusty trail for Lebowski Fest West in 2004 (Feb 27-28), when Russell and Shuffit took the show to Las Vegas. Spin sent me there to cover it as my editor at the time was also BL geek. (My cred at the time included throwing a “Dudefest” party, which included a screening of the film, a costume contest, white Russians on special at the bar, custom Urban Achiever T-shirts and two bands – Calgary’s The Dudes, and a one-shot collaboration of local musicians called The Achievers.)

The first evening in the Sin City (how easy would it have been to get a toe, I wondered) featured a screening of the film, in a hotel conference room where hundreds of Achievers gathered to drink Caucasians, recite lines verbatim, buy T-shirts (I still have the one with the cowboy-Nixon bowling, as pictured above) see footage from past fests, drink white Russians and meet James G. Hoosier, who played the Jesus’ bowling partner Liam in the film. Hoosier was, well, bowled over by the response, as he didn’t really know the film had such a following and had never attended something like that before. In fact, he’s not an actor, but rather a guy who answered an ad at his local bowling alley to be in a movie. Quite an achievement, of course…

The next night was the big bowling party at Sunset Lanes. I arrived there in a shuttle bus and regretted not having a costume. Most of the 700 attendees had dressed up and some of the outfits were inspiring to say the least. For example: there was a girl dressed as Larry’s homework, another as the missing toe, yet another as Jackie Treehorn’s notepad, and a guy who went as the rug.

The costume contest, cool tunes, bowling and white Russians galore were the order of the night. Hoosier was there, as was Jeff “The Dude” Dowd, the guy the character was based on. I interviewed ‘em both, and Dowd was eerily like his onscreen counterpart. In between bites of cheeseburger and gulps of white Russian (some of which ended up on his faded Hawaiian shirt), he dished anecdotes about all kinds of what-have-you – from his reaction to fan culture (“They’re a cut above Trekkies.”) to his vaguely defined job as a guy who helps gets movies made. Truly a man for out times.

As the white Russians flowed throughout the night, so did the quotes (“Over the line!” being the most popular, of course). Everyone was very friendly, no one was un-Dude in any manner, and much bonding was achieved. In fact, the night ended with the carpet costume being thrown in the parking lot and a group of carpet pissers standing in a circle taking a leak on it.

And thus the legend of Lebowskifest continued to grow…

So, you can’t truly call yourself an achiever until you’ve made the pilgrimage to Lebowskfest. Five years later it has travelled across the US and even to Europe, so we’re very overdue here in Canada. This is a call to all the Can-Dudes out there takin’ it easy for all us hosers: join Lebowskifest on the Facebook page or add ‘em on MySpace – let ‘em know that we’re not a bunch of f**kin’ amateurs, man!

 

-Dave Alexander