Groundhog Day

365 Films

Entry #30

Groundhog Day (1993)

Directed by: Harold Ramis

I saw Groundhog Day when it opened in theaters on Februrary 12^th, 1993.  Christ, that was over twenty years ago…shudder.  I remember finding it mildly diverting, yes as a nine-year-old I talked like that.  But I specifically recall not falling head over heels for it.  This is no fault of the film because I doubt Harold Ramis and Bill Murray were thinking of the nine year old Delaware demographic as their target audience.  Years went by and I started to notice this strange cult growing around the film and since I had no ill will towards it, my curiosity was piqued.  I started to hear rumblings about the film possessing a sub-textual religious theme and that it was considered to be one of the most profound romantic comedies ever made.  In revisiting the film for this blog (that’s right sometimes, I cheat, I’m pretty sure you can tell which entries are which), I have come to the conclusion that those cinephiles are absolutely right.  I’m not sure what this means exactly but I would place Groundhog Day on a shortlist of flawless movies.  There is not an ounce of fat or a wasted joke on this thing.  It hums with comedic precision until it reaches the genuinely earned pathos of the ending.  The most genius aspect of the film has to belong to its timelessness.  Ramis, on the director’s commentary for the DVD notes that they went out of their way to specifically avoid any 90’s specific references.  It’s a masterful touch.  The film is twenty years old and, with the exception of Bill Murray’s hair, looks like it came out yesterday.  Another reason why I am always beholden to the legacy of Groundhog Day is because this introduced the world to sad-sack Bill Murray.  The Bill Murray that paved the way for his remarkable run of performances with Wes Anderson, Sofia Coppola, and Jim Jarmusch.  And while it would be unfair to suggest that Murray had never stretched himself in a role prior to Groundhog Day, this was his most successful attempt at exposing the vulnerability that lay beneath the smart-ass exterior.  Said vulnerability is now his stock and trade but Phil Connors is the birth and perhaps most satisfying iteration of it.  What ultimately makes this film so special is not just the collective brilliance of the performances (seriously, everybody is perfect in this movie), or the free-wheeling brilliance of a screenplay that seems to effortlessly make itself up as it goes along.  What makes the film special is that it presents a thoroughly convincing case for leaving a selfless, examined, and morally sound life without ever resorting to preaching or self-righteousness.  It’s nightmarish to consider the garish turns this film could have taken (see any movie with Robin Williams post Good Will Hunting) and cause for celebration that it makes these points with such a delicate touch.   It makes perfect sense that when asked about his previously stated desire to make a Groundhog Day musical, Stephen Sondheim responded thusly: "to make a musical of Groundhog Day would be to gild the lily. It cannot be improved." Amen.