WASHINGTON – It’s Groundhog Day … again.
It also marks another February reminder of the death of “Groundhog Day” writer/director Harold Ramis, who passed away on Feb. 24, 2014.
Ramis’ genius 1993 movie premise — a man reliving a repeating day — has become an annual legacy-builder, creating appointment viewing every Feb. 2, just as we watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1946) every Christmas Eve or “Ben-Hur” (1959) every Easter.
But it’s more than just the deja-vu premise — clever gimmicks are a dime a dozen. What separates “Groundhog Day” from the rest of the pack is the execution of that premise, mining the comedy for all it’s worth, then fleshing out its existential, life-affirming themes into something quite profound.
The American Film Institute recently voted it the No. 8 Fantasy of All Time, behind only “Harvey” (1950), “Field of Dreams” (1989), “Miracle on 34th Street” (1947), “King Kong” (1933), “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1946), “The Lord of the Rings” (2001) and “The Wizard of Oz” (1939).
In this celluloid realm of invisible rabbits, ghostly ballplayers, Santa Claus on trial, apes climbing skyscrapers, angels earning their wings, Hobbits and Munchkins, “Groundhog Day” has carved a special place among cinema’s most outside-the-box, creative entertainments.
Plot Summary
On a seemingly routine Feb. 2, TV weatherman Phil Conners (Bill Murray) sets out with producer Rita (Andie MacDowell) and cameraman Larry (Chris Elliott) to cover the annual Groundhog Day ceremony at Gobbler’s Knob, in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania.
The residents of the small town gather every year to see whether a groundhog, nicknamed Punxsutawney Phil, will see his shadow and predict a few more weeks of winter. On this particular day, the groundhog does see his shadow, and a snowstorm forces Phil and his team to shack up for the night in Punxsutawney.
To Phil’s surprise, he wakes up the next day and the snow is magically gone. The song he woke up to the previous day (Sonny & Cher’s “I’ve Got You Babe”) is playing once again on the radio. The morning disc jockeys are cracking the same jokes. And the townspeople are retracing the same steps.
It seems Phil is reliving the same day over again, but he’s the only one who realizes it. Over and over, he wakes up on the same day — Groundhog Day, stuck in Punxsutawney. Whether this is a blessing or a curse is up for Phil to decide. Like life, it’s all about how you look at it.
Cast
No doubt, the film would not have worked without the right anchor as a lead actor. Bill Murray was just the man for the job, a favorite of Ramis since “Meatballs” (1979). In hindsight, their most classic collaborations now seem like a training ground for “Groundhog Day,” as Murray chased a gopher in “Caddyshack” (1980) to prepare for Punxsutawney Phil, and learned from Ernie Hudson’s advice in “Ghostbusters” (1984): “If someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” In “Groundhog Day,” Murray tells Rita with a straight face, “I’m a god, not the God. I don’t think.”
Only Murray possesses the proper combo of smartass and sweetheart to pull this off. The fact that he has only been nominated once for an Oscar (“Lost in Translation”) — and never won — is one of the absolute travesties of movie history, exposing the ridiculous bias the Academy has against comedy.
Meanwhile, Andie MacDowell is the perfect female counterpart to Murray. More than just a love interest, she is the moral compass of the movie. MacDowell was at the top of her game, appearing during a stretch of three Golden Globe nominations: Steven Soderbergh’s “Sex, Lies and Videotape” (1989), Peter Weir’s “Green Card” (1990) and Mike Newell’s “Four Weddings and a Funeral” (1994).
As for the rest of the supporting cast, Chris Elliott shines as the loser sidekick, foreshadowing his itchy stalker in “There’s Something About Mary” (1998). Brian Doyle-Murray (Bill’s brother) continues such solid support as “Christmas Vacation” (1989). And stealing the show is Stephen Tobolowsky, who cements Ned Ryerson in our pop culture with the trademark: “Watch that first step, it’s a doozy.”
Script
Ryerson’s “doozy” may be the film’s most famous line, but it isn’t the only potent quotable. The script, co-written by Ramis and Danny Rubin, sparkles with deadpan gold — “Too early for flapjacks?” — and ironic plays on words — “What if there is no tomorrow? There wasn’t one today!”
Thankfully, the script never tries to over-explain its wild premise, allowing us to suspend our disbelief without ruining the magic (i.e. “Signs”). Is it a coincidence that Phil shares the groundhog’s name, or is it a cosmic ripple in the universe? Less is more in such a premise, one which only a brilliant mind could concoct. “Groundhog Day” has deservedly become the envy of every innovative screenwriter since its release, voted by the Writers Guild of America as the No. 27 Greatest Screenplay of All Time, just behind “Double Indemnity” (1944), “The Wizard of Oz” (1939), “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” (2004), “Gone With the Wind” (1939) and “The Shawshank Redemption” (1994).
Dialogue and premise aside, the script’s biggest strength is the fully realized character arc of the protagonist. At first, Phil is miserably selfish, grumbling about stepping in the same puddles, agitated at hearing the same rendition of “The Pennsylvania Polka” and venting with increasingly sarcastic on-air reports. Rita tells him he’s egocentric, saying straight to his face, “It’s your defining quality.”
The next stage of his arc reveals Phil’s manipulation of others, as he tries to take advantage of his unique situation. He learns everything about a stranger named Nancy so that he can seduce her the next day. He works out the exact timing of a bank error so he can steal a bag full of money, counting down the exact seconds (“10, 9, 8, car, 6, 5, quarters”). And he goes on a drunk driving rampage, taunting police officers because he knows there is no consequence for his actions.
This reckless behavior gives way to Phil’s next stage of development — the suicidal phase. Fed up with the repetition, he tries to end it all. In a montage reminiscent of “Harold and Maude” (1971), Phil tries every way to kill himself — electrocution in a bathtub, getting hit by a truck, falling from a bell tower (a reference to Hitchcock’s “Vertigo”?), and finally going on a suicide mission over a cliff and taking the groundhog with him. Each time, he wakes back up to Sonny and Cher.
The turning point of Phil’s arc comes when he explains his curse to Rita, who provides new perspective: “I don’t know, Phil, maybe it’s not a curse. Just depends how you look at it.” From this point, Phil begins to look at his recurring Groundhog Day as a gift, rather than curse. He starts using this gift to help others with good deeds, changing a flat tire for a group of old women, performing the Heimlich on a choking man, catching a boy falling from a tree and trying to save a homeless man’s life by buying him soup. “Sometimes people just die,” a nurse says, to which Phil replies: “Not today.”
He also uses his gift to positively alter his own life, teaching himself to carve ice sculptures, recite poetry and play a mean piano. He not only changes the way he treats others, but the way he treats himself. As the old adage goes, before we can love others, we must first learn to love ourselves.
The hero’s transformation is both heart-warming and inspiring, morphing “Groundhog Day” into a romantic comedy as much as it is a fantasy. When the credits roll to “Almost Like Being in Love,” viewers find new hope in the film’s message — to not take a single day for granted and to get the most out of a seemingly ordinary day. Do something spontaneous and out of the ordinary. Be productive. Do a good deed. Make others feel good about themselves. “Groundhog Day” reminds us that even in the midst of the most arduous of routines, one needs to make time for life. A lifetime consists of all these daily routines added up, but what one does in those days constitutes the substance of that life.
Direction
The line between Ramis the writer and Ramis the director becomes inevitably blurred, as many visual elements are woven into the script, yet require a keen director’s touch.
Most innovative is his use of the “start over” device, as Phil tries to get a read on the proper pick-up lines to use on Rita at the bar. Upon each failed attempt, Ramis starts the scene over, instructing MacDowell to play it the same exact way, only now Murray and the audience know something that she doesn’t. Such inside information makes for juicy viewing, sold with jarring edits rooted in the jump-cuts of the French New Wave. Fittingly, Murray and Rita discuss French poetry in this scene:
Ramis also nails the technique of the comedic montage, having Rita slap Phil after repeated advances:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVkLSUi8ZhA
Best of all, Ramis revolutionizes the notion of the “familiar image” with various leitmotifs — repeated elements throughout the film. This applies both to visual elements (falling numbers on the analog alarm clock) and audio elements (“I Got You Babe” on the radio). Combined with the aforementioned technique of comedic montage, it’s a recipe for hilarity:
Legacy
The test of a movie’s true pop-culture legacy is its instant recognition in random everyday life.
If someone slips on a curb, you can bet someone will crack, “Watch that first step, it’s a doozy.”
If the temps are low, you can bet someone will say, “Don’t forget your booties, ’cause it’s cold outside.”
And if someone plays “I Got You Babe,” you can bet everyone in the room will think of Bill Murray smashing that alarm clock. Hell, you could even make that your morning ringtone.
It’s these everyday references — in a movie that celebrates the beauty of the everyday — that make “Groundhog Day” a movie for the ages. Funny flicks have long struggled in listology land, with even the most celebrated of comedies struggling on IMDB: “Animal House” (7.6), “Blazing Saddles” (7.8), “Ghostbusters” (7.8), “Beverly Hills Cop” (7.3), “Airplane!” (7.8), “Dumb and Dumber” (7.3), “Austin Powers” (7.0), “The 40 Year Old Virgin” (7.2), “Wedding Crashers” (7.0) and “The Hangover” (7.8).
This has almost become expected, due to differing funny bones among individual viewers, let alone different generations. But “Groundhog Day” brilliantly breaks the mold with an stellar 8.1, earning a spot on the IMDB Top 250, somewhere between “Rocky” (1976) and “The King’s Speech” (2010).
If you doubt the film’s continued influence, pop in Rachel McAdams’ “About Time” (2013) or Tom Cruise’s “Edge of Tomorrow” (2014). The latter’s tagline — “Live. Die. Repeat.” — explains the very essence of “Groundhog Day.” We all live. We all die. But our work lives on in repeat.
Ramis may have lived and died, but we’ll watch his brilliance over and over on repeat.
At least every Feb. 2.
