Seite - 116 - in JRFM - Journal Religion Film Media, Band 02/01

116 | Christian Wessely www.jrfm.eu 2016, 2/1, 113–120 to re-construct the worldview of not only the unfortunate protagonist, but also the audience. And this may well result, they conclude, in the creation of hell in our own minds (p. 71). Ellen Posman treats Community in her article on The Hudsucker Proxy and im- mediately refers to the films of Frank Capra (1897–1991), demonstrating a “shift to an individualized, privatized form of American religion after the 1950s” (p. 74). She shows that a Buddhist reading of The Hudsucker Proxy is as feasible as a Christian interpretation, in spite of Ethan Coen’s statement addressing this film as a “Capra- esque thing” (p. 78). The classic “good guy” / “bad guy” plot scheme fails (as it usually does in Coen movies), and even the concept of karma, originally Hindu, seems to be in vain; the movie instead illustrates the core Buddhist idea. For me, the most impor- tant point of this chapter is that given that the sociological shift from collectivism to individualism was incredibly strong in the United States (and in Europe as well, I might add) in the late twentieth century (pp. 89ff.), worldviews that rely on community as their primary reference (Communitarism, Catholicism, Unionism, for example) have lost most of their power. But they left a gap behind: even as they are more individual than ever before, human beings still long for the security and comfort of a collective. This film might well be read as an “insightful reflection of the shift in culture and reli- gion” (p. 91). In the “First Intermission (So Are the Coen Brothers Religious Filmmakers?)”, which is about Fargo, one of the films I have not yet seen, Richard Amesbury broaches the issues of Christian moralism and postmodern irony. He mentions that a moralistic in- terpretation of Fargo seems possible but that it is not quite clear whether the “divid- ing line between the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ characters is really as brightly marked as the moralistic interpretation requires” (p. 96). He tends towards reading the film as a work of postmodern irony, sketching that “the films real target is not demonic evil, but banality” (p. 97). In an analogy with Plato’s Cave, he states that the “characters projected onto the screen can be understood as indicative of our ‘essential displace- ment’” (p. 107). For him, Fargo is grotesque yet “ultimately a hopeful film, which ends looking toward the birth of new possibilities” (p. 110). I move on to Erica H. Andrus’ chapter on The Big Lebowski, which, the author states, is the “most religious Coen brothers film” (p. 113). Certainly, the Dude (the main character of the film, played by Jeff Bridges) has his worshippers and a living fan community, but Andrus’ classification does not refer to this so-called “Dudeism”, because its “production of culture … reflects more the characteristics of a fan culture and less those of a religion” (p. 115). Instead, the author looks to the figure of the protagonist himself, the Dude. Far from being heroic, he resembles an oriental monk more than an ordinary member of an underprivileged part of society. For Andrus, “The Dude’s lifestyle and affect … give him the quality of being a master” (p. 125) in the sense of Zen Buddhism. I have two grave problems with this chapter. First, it seems to me inconsistent to dismiss the question of the religious dimension of Dude-