Groundhog Day

It being Groundhog Day this weekend I thought I'd take another look at the 1993 film of the same name, which though it was released to modest critical notices, has become something of a classic over time.

My view has also changed. I thought it was okay when I first saw it, but I join the chorus that now proclaim it one of the great American comedies, and Bill Murray's performance as one of the great comic performances. It has thoroughly entered the cultural lexicon, and is now probably better known than the rodent weather forecast that inspired it.

Murray is the egotistical weatherman, Phil Connors, who has to cover the groundhog festivities in Punxsatawney, Pennsylvania. He is accompanied by the winsome Andie MacDowell and the sardonic camera man, Chris Elliot. Murray is a diva and thoroughly unpleasant to be around. The crew ends up getting trapped in the town by a blizzard.

Then Murray realizes, when he wakes up the next day and it is again Groundhog Day, that he is stuck in a time loop. Each morning, no matter where he ends the night, he awakes to the song "I've Got You, Babe," and faces the same day.

What makes this film so great, in addition to Murray (this, along with Ghostbusters, most defines the Murray comic persona) is the script, by director Harold Ramis and Danny Rubin. Namely, given the concept, they completely and satisfyingly exhaust all the ramifications. At first, Murray takes advantage of the benefits--he is able to seduce a local woman, steals money from an armored car, and has a night on the town (I've often wondered how fulfilling a day one could have with a pile of cash--you couldn't get too far, but you could get to New York City, and that could be quite rewarding).

Then he tries to seduce MacDowell, but does it by being a phony, learning about what she likes then simply giving her what he thinks she would like. When that fails, he grows despondent and attempts to kill himself, but it doesn't work--he dies, repeatedly, but always wakes up as the clock turns 6 a.m. and Sonny and Cher come on.

Finally, the film takes a more Buddhist approach--the key to happiness is to become a better person, and Murray is allowed enough time (estimates vary on how long he is stuck in the loop--anywhere from 10 to 10,000 years) to improve himself, from learning to play the piano to trying to save the life of a homeless man.

The film offers several lovely nuggets. Stephen Tobolowsky, who has made over 200 films, is certainly best known as Ned Ryerson, the over-eager insurance agent. I was surprised to see a young Michael Shannon as a prospective groom. I love the scene where Murray, in pajamas and with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of booze, watches Jeopardy and knows all the answers.

I do remember the effect it had on me when I walked out of the theater. Like some movies, it made me question what day it was. Luckily it was still today, and not yesterday.