The Big Lebowski.

Not so The Big Lebowski, in which everything is at best crass, at worst odious. The work of the Coen brothers, exemplars of undeserved success and perpetrators of some of cinema's worst atrocities, Lebowski -- coming after Fargo, which, such as it is, was their best work -- hurtles back into the beastliness of Barton Fink and The Hudsucker Proxy.

There are two Jeff Lebowskis. One is a self-made nabob, the Big Lebowski, who lost his legs in Vietnam, and rules his empire from a wheelchair. Old (one wonders whether he wasn't past serving in Vietnam), he has a young daughter, Maude, who has left him, and an even younger trophy wife, the sluttish Bunny. The other Jeff Lebowski (Jeff Bridges, slumming) is an overgrown hippie stuck in the Seventies and a ramshackle pad, who insists on being called the Dude. The story is told by the Stranger, a jerk in cowboy gear (he ought to be the Dude) who pops up randomly and quite unbelievably.

It begins when a couple of thugs beat up the Dude, ransack his place, and pee on his beloved rug, having mistaken him for the Big Lebowski. Since not even an idiot would mistake this derelict for a millionaire, the scene is utter nonsense. Next, the Dude has no difficulty getting to see the Big L., demanding restitution for his cheap rug, and, when refused, leaving with the best Persian in the house. More nonsense.

Much of the film is spent in a bowling alley with the Dude's pals: the huge, arrogantly violent, and stupid Vietnam vet Walter (John Goodman, unfunny and intolerable), and the ratty sidekick (Steve Buscemi), whom he keeps cutting off by way of Coen humor. The Big L., for no good reason, picks the Dude to deliver ransom money for his wife, who may or may not have been kidnapped, as proof of which he is sent a severed toe that may or may not be hers. From this evolves what may or may not be a plot, most of which I'll spare you.

Three sets of thugs are after the Dude and his chums. There are the urinators, who belong to one Treehorn (Ben Gazzara in a ludicrous role), another pair who belong to the unsavory Maude Lebowski (Julianne Moore in a ludicrous wig and accent), and a trio of neo-Nazis in black leather who call themselves the Nihilists. They drop a ferret into the (improbably) bathing Dude's tub, and the animal viciously bites him. This ferret is absurdly referred to as a marmot, though neither beast bites under water. Maude picks the Dude to impregnate her. His gay landlord picks him as arbiter of his goony dance recitals. A young teen is taken for the master criminal behind . . . but why go on? If this doesn't persuade you that Joel and Ethan Coen are repellent charlatans, go see the movie. And if that doesn't do the trick, let's have no further truck with each other.