In honor of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, I watched “The Big Lebowski” for the first time. Hoffman, who died yesterday, had a part in it.
It’s a weird movie, but I’ll say this: It has weird, wonderful characters, and it reminds me: Good stories have great characters. (It reminded me, a little bit, of “American Hustle,” which I also enjoyed. Both have clever costuming, too.)
Though I’m not a big fan of fiction, I’ve got to hand it to some fiction writers for their amazing creativity. I admire it. I woke up the other morning with an idea for the plot of a book — a mystery. In my dream, the bad guy was a man from my past, but the concept is fiction, so I could build one heck of a great character from my subconscious.
When the credits for “The Big Lewbowski” played, I paid special attention to the writer. Turns out, it’s an Ethan and Joel Coen movie.
I should have known. They must have great dreams.