This is not a reviews blog. In fact I can't remember ever reviewing a movie on here before. There are plenty of other stops out there for you to get your fill of that. But I recently felt the need to speak of the joys that one can get from repeated viewings of Bill Murray's 1993 classic 'Groundhog Day'.For the uninitiated, the movie centers around Phil Connors, a weatherman for Channel 9 Pittsburgh. When we meet Phil, Murray plays him at his prickish best, oozing contempt for the masses surrounding him as he bides his time awaiting a network honcho with the proper sense and purse strings to notice his genius. He's tired of filing the same small-time stories day after day, year after year. He goes through the motions of his 'final' Groundhog day report, happy to be done with the podunk town once and for all. But the universe has different plans for him.
The roads are snowed in (a pride-damaging wrong prediction) so the Channel 9 Action News weather team is forced to retreat back to Punxsutawney, where Phil must spend at least one more night in the God-forsaken town. But come morning it becomes plain something has gone very wrong. Phil is the only one that notices everything seems a bit familiar. He's stuck in the same day, again and again. Just not figuratively this time.
Every night it's back to the same bed and breakfast with no hot shower. Every morning he wakes to Sonny and Cher on the alarm clock. The repetition makes the film not only re-watchable but a continuity watcher's delight. The same car stalls in the same place each morning. The same townsfolk gather at the same restaurants. Phil begins to notice the clockwork and turns it to his advantage.
As he gets to know every corner of Punxsutawney proper he avoids the normal pitfalls of everyday life. Phil takes joy in his newly found Godliness, as the mortals around him plod through their day as predictably as rats through a maze. “I don't have to worry about anything,” he confesses to his skeptical producer Rita. “I don't even have to floss.”
Not flossing is the least of the fun Phil squeezes out of his odd new life, and his antics run the gamut from robbing an armored car to playing chicken with a train. The way in which he cons the town dressmaker into a night of hanky panky is a thing of genius. And yet everything gets boring given enough time.
The wrench in his works becomes his producer Rita, played by a perky and pleasant Andie MacDowell, whom he grows to know and love through the sheer repetition of her company. Come morning he returns to his role of mere work acquaintance, all his work from the night before evaporated. But each evening he tries to make their date just slightly better than the last, with a tweak of a toast here, a change in dinner topic there. The ultimate realization that despite his most heroic efforts he will never win her heart, breaks his spirit. Cue the despair. And numerous suicide attempts. To be fair, the attempts are actually successful, but even loosing his mortal coil isn't enough to break the spell.
It turns out to be the bum on the corner he ignored countless times that breaks him free of his funk. Phil tries in vain to help the old man, powerless to prevent the man's death. There is a power in this lesson of life's preciousness that causes him to reevaluate his own.
No longer is his self improvement done solely to manipulate others. Echoing the earlier advice of Rita, the world begins to look more promising to Phil as his predicament shifts from curse to gift. Like the Buddhists say: 10,000 joys, 10,000 sorrows. It just takes him a while to figure this out.
I can think of no better story of personal transformation. It's an inspiring ride watching Phil's progression through bafflement, panic, depression, playfulness, despair, inspiration, and finally mastery.
What would you do with eternity? Would you have the nerve to do anything you wanted if no one would remember tomorrow? The themes the film explores are universal. This may explain why the DVD has subtitles in more languages I've ever seen (seven).
It's not my favorite film, but it's up there. There's just something about it that lends itself to repetitive viewing. Plus it's one of the rare ones with claim on an actual date that can be used as an excuse to do so. Thus every February 2nd I pour a tall drink, fix a snack, pop in the DVD and plop down into the recliner. It's a ironic ritual I've been carrying out for about a decade now.
We are creatures of habit, often to a comic fault. Recently I noticed that each time my lunch crew and I visit Chik-fil-A, I choose not only the same meal, but the same table and seat. It is so easy to slip into our little ruts that we don't notice them until we see how deep the wagon wheels are riding along the trail. But if anything, this is one habit I think helps keep things fresh and reminds us to use our time just a little more wisely.
And there's a reason this is being written on February 3rd. Yesterday I had to watch not only Groundhog Day, but the season premiere of Lost. It was a late night and writing fell victim to sleeping. So I invite you to take up the tradition yourself, 364 days from now.
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