Groundhog Day
Once I read that Danny Rubin’s original concept for “Groundhog Day” was that is was inspired by Kubler-Ross’s Five Stages of Grief, you can see the film’s structure beautifully. The first few times Phil wakes up to “I Got You Babe,” he’s in denial about his situation, followed by anger and frustration. Next comes bargaining, where he uses his situation to his advantage, accepting that he’s stuck, while realizing, “I can have some fun with it.” Next comes depression, wherein Phil feels as though he cannot continue like this for eternity. Finally, comes acceptance, and the realization that, if he wants to change his life, he needs to change himself. As someone who’s had that moment of reckoning myself, I can speak how it made a difference when I started seeing things differently. In doing that, the future looks brighter.
I honestly thought I had reviewed Harold Ramis’s classic film prior to this moment- maybe around the time of his death in 2014- but seeing as I hadn’t, after a Groundhog Day watch of the film felt like the right time to do so. When I was reading a bit about the film, as well as how it brought to an end the collaboration (and friendship) between Ramis and Bill Murray, it was interesting to see how there was tension between the way both director and star saw the film. Ramis looked at it as an exploration of the redemptive power of love; Murray looked at it as a reflection of people being stuck in a cycle because they are afraid of change. In reality, both of them are correct- film is ultimately a subjective medium, and many great films (especially those that challenge us in how they explore the spiritual side of life) have multiple interpretations of their themes. I think a big part of the reason “Groundhog Day” has become such a beloved classic is how effortlessly Ramis balances the cynical and the romantic in the story, and how he knew Murray could deliver both.
Phil (the Murray character) is a weather man who goes to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania for the annual Groundhog Festival, where a spectacle is put on over the ceremonial order of seeing if a groundhog comes out to see his own shadow; if he does, it is six more weeks of winter, and if not, it’s an early spring. Of course, this is a nonsense event, but you can see the appeal for the town- for one day, they are the center of the country. Phil feels as though he’s above such puff news reporting, and he hopes to be out of his local news soon. He also hopes to be out of Punxsutawney sooner rather than later; his cameraman (Larry, played by Chris Elliot) and his young producer (Rita, played by Andie MacDowell) like the atmosphere, and know a blowhard when they’re working with one. The first 20 minutes of the film, however, are simply setting up what we will see Phil go through again, and again, and again, as his nightmare scenario plays out.
We’ve seen filmmakers play with this premise in a variety of genres since, from romantic comedy (“Palm Springs”) to action (“Edge of Tomorrow”) to horror (“Happy Death Day”), and while they all have their strong qualities in riffing on this idea, none of them have done it quite like “Groundhog Day.” I think a big part of that is how Ramis, Rubin and Murray understand the fundamental existential nightmare of this premise, and the pain of feeling like your life has become a mundane pattern of dull interactions and lack of challenges from life. I enjoy each of these films in their own ways, but it’s surprising how much I remembered vividly from “Groundhog Day” as it unfolded. The first time you see him in the inn, you start to remember the different ways these conversations will go later. When he meets Ned Ryerson (Stephen Tobolowsky) on the street, you think about the perverse pleasures this film has in store for Phil as he tries to escape the situation each time. As he’s trying to get with a local woman (Marita Geraghty), you see him start to work out the same tricks he will play as he gets to know Rita. And finally, you’ll remember how he just sometimes has to say, “fuck it,” and he becomes a force of chaos as he realizes he can never escape this time prison he’s stuck in. Whom amongst us have never wanted that type of cheat code for dealing with life?
The premise and the structure succeed because of the precision with which Ramis and Rubin approach it, but “Groundhog Day” ultimately rises and falls on the charms and greatness of Bill Murray at the center of it. As with “Ghostbusters,” he is an agent of chaos in the world built around him, first reacting dryly sardonic towards it, only to realize that he has to learn to accept it if he’s going to survive it. All the while, he never loses that edge to his personality, but it’s the way he chooses to channel it that determines how he’ll turn out as he goes through each stage of his situation. He bounces off of each actor beautifully, and we feel as though the relationship builds naturally where he comes to really care about Rita. It helps that MacDowell challenges him every step of the way. When that final scene comes, it feels earned, like we do when we feel as though we’ve accepted that we’ve gone through some shit, and are finally ready to move forward.
