Has anyone mentioned _The Big Lebowski_ (Coen Brothers, 1998) yet? (I've
been deep in essay marking, so I've not kept track of the discussion.)
Unlike some other films mentioned, perhaps, _BL_ doesn't have 'lots to say'
about bereavement or mourning, but it does offer a wry counterpoint to films
that might be said to dwell in bereavement. The final scene, in which Walter
(John Goodman) and 'the Dude' (Jeff Bridges) scatter their friend Donnie's
ashes wonderfully exposes the necessary memorial fictionalising (and a
certain narcissism, of course) involved in every eulogy and work of
mourning.
It's wonderfully understated: Walter never allows Donnie to speak throughout
the film ('Shut the fuck up Donnie' is his frequent refrain...), but at his
death he becomes eloquent for *his* loss, for 'Donnie, who loved bowling',
but also for his own long lost buddies in Vietnam... He ends with, 'Fuck it,
Dude, let's go bowling!'
Now that's what I call mourning 'working'!
Richard
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