Groundhog Day, and Its Timey-Wimey Meditation on Looking Up, Down and All Around

By Kevin Renick

“What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?”
— Phil Connors (Bill Murray) in GROUNDHOG DAY
“That about sums it up for me.”
— Bar patron

I love time travel movies. It’s a fixation of mine, honestly. And it’s a broad genre that can include time portals (a la certain Star Trek episodes and The Time Travelers), temporal rifts of one sort or another, actual time travel like in the Back to the Future saga, time-warping odysseys such as The Butterfly Effect and A Sound of Thunder (both flawed movies but containing some ingenious ideas) and countless others. The short-lived 60s sci-fi show The Time Tunnel was something I loved as a kid, and many of its most innovative ideas got deeply lodged in my developing psyche. I was simply spellbound by the idea that TIME could somehow be changed, that we could undo or redo something that happened and get a better outcome. Or risk something even worse coming about. A good shrink could have a field day with me on that particular theme. TV shows such as the prematurely canceled Timeless and the long-running Doctor Who had plenty to say about the malleability – and riskiness of messing with time and destiny. But I’m here to write about a time LOOP movie, perhaps the best one ever made. And that’s Groundhog Day, the Bill Murray film that has become a genuine classic and a favorite of Buddhists and other philosophy-minded folks around the world. In the months and years following the release of this wildly inventive film, many essays appeared about why it was so impactful, and why audiences kept coming back to it. My friend Mark, a guitarist in my band, makes a family tradition of watching the movie every year on, yes, Groundhog Day. I myself have seen the movie more times than any other film; it’s a personal record. I’ve lost count, but I think it's up to 40 or so viewings by now. And I still love it. Why? What is there about this existential but largely comedic outing that stays with the contemplative viewer?

I can speak to that a bit, but let me start with the basics. There are a couple of thematic elements that drew me in to this popular movie right away. One is the notion of being STUCK in some circumstance. I find that compelling as a plot device. What does a person do when they’re stuck, and cannot get out of a certain reality? How do they proceed to act and make the best of it? Bill Murray plays self-centered weatherman Phil Connors in the film, making a trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania with his crew to cover the groundhog ritual, an annual event he has no interest in. He’s tired of his job, has disdain for his cameraman Larry (Chris Elliott), and even though he harbors a quiet crush on lead reporter Rita (Andie MacDowell), the trip is something he just wants to get over with. He has ambitions that are stymied for the time being (“For your information, Hairdo, a major network is interested in me,” he says condescendingly to a colleague early on). But Phil is about to get STUCK in a big way. When he wakes up in his B & B the morning after covering the event, it is Groundhog Day again. Yesterday never happened. It’s unfathomable to Phil, he’s freaked out, and he tries pitifully to explain to an uncomprehending Rita that “something strange” has happened. Every single detail is the same: the coffee the restaurant matron offers him, the people walking by on the street, the folks gathered at “Gobblers Knob” singing old polka songs, and Rita and Larry setting up equipment for the segment, just as they'd done before. It all happens again...and again. Phil keeps waking up in the same place, having to react to the same people and situations. Everyone else is the same, doing what's expected. Only Phil is aware of an inexplicable phenomenon taking place. He's stuck but good!

So yeah, that’s one of the compelling notions. Another grander theme is: What would you do if you COULD change an outcome? What if you could change your own behavior, affect the behavior of OTHERS, and make something different happen? How might you take advantage of such a thing? Would the results be good or bad? One of the terrific things about the script, co-written by director Harold Ramis and his partner Danny Rubin, is that it explores so many possibilities. When poor Phil realizes that he’s doomed to repeat this same day over and over, his mind goes to work. Rita has previously seen and commented on how egocentric he is, and she certainly doesn't seem to be a romantic prospect, but what if Phil could begin to charm her? What if he started asking her friendly questions about her life when they have breakfast at the truly atmospheric diner that becomes one of the main settings in the movie? Could she change how she views him? And how could Phil attract the random beauty named "Nancy" that he observes by herself at the festival? After all, he’s got “time” to impress her, too!

As the movie develops, a remarkable transformation gradually takes place. The smarmy, socially judgmental Phil begins to get used to these regular folks (that he initially calls “hicks” to Rita) and then, seeing them over and over, he warms up to them. He also starts to see new possibilities in his existential trap. For example, why not take piano lessons from a teacher he encounters? Why not give some money to the fragile old man on a street corner looking for help — someone Phil initially recoils from? Why not have some fun with the obnoxious Ned Ryerson, (Stephen Tobolowsky who gives Murray a chance to display some major league comic riffage), an old classmate who’s now an aggressive insurance salesman, buddying up to Phil a bit too enthusiastically? Why not...indeed?

At the heart of Groundhog Day is a philosophical, sometimes melancholy portrait of someone who has to CHANGE. He can't change the reality of where and WHEN he is, apparently. But can he change how he deals with it? And can he, um, start to feel differently about the people he must interact with? And maybe change some things for THEM? This becomes a wonderful, epic theme that resonates more and more as the movie progresses. Rita just might fall in love with the new Phil. If he doesn’t get it right the first time, he can try again! The diner patrons he sees over and over just might benefit from Phil's newly generous nature. And Larry just might be deeply touched by a different speech Phil gives at the groundhog festival quoting Chekhov, instead of a previous speech that the old, angry Phil dispensed with in a hurry by saying that people used to “pull the hog out and eat it.” The whole picture is about to change, with fresh opportunities galore. Ultimately the movie asks questions about what it takes to change ourselves. And that's a very, very personal thing to me. Because we ALL need to change! We are ALL stuck in one way or another, often going through the “same thing, over and over.” How do we get out?

Looking back at my own life, in the context of Groundhog Day, I realized I let myself be trapped in suburban malaise for years. I had ambition, but...most days were exactly the same. Until I started talking more openly and creatively with people in college, and met some of my very best friends. Until I stopped complaining about the “impossibility” of writing songs professionally and actually WROTE a bunch, then daringly gave one of them to a major film director in 2009. He not only USED the song in a film, but the experience changed my life dramatically. There are many other examples, including being too shy to ask a girl out and then finally DOING it. No doubt you have your own examples; everyone does. You get stuck, you’re tired of the same reality over and over, and then you change it. Maybe it’s a sudden impulse, maybe it’s an experiment, and maybe, shock of shocks, it’s a big thing you do for someone ELSE. Generosity is a profoundly important, and often unexplored aspect of character. I have a dear friend who made a couple of gestures during rough times in my life that made a huge difference to me. A real, tangible difference. I haven't forgotten that, and have told myself I would try to be kind and giving like that to whatever extent was possible. That choice is there to be made. And the movie shows this.

In Groundhog Day, Phil Connors realizes how kind Rita is and it starts to rub off on him. By seeing the same people again and again, he discovers that all people are interesting. They have stories. They have unique passions to share. They might have terrible troubles, and you could try to ease them. A poignant part of the film is how Phil ends up helping the fragile old man. There's a scene in which he takes the man for a meal and makes sure he eats enough to satisfy his hunger. But it's worth mentioning that the poor guy still ends up dying, and this was commented on in one of the Buddhist essays I read about the film. Your actions might not change the ultimate outcome for the person you are trying to help. You can't "play God" (a theme that does get attention in the movie). You have to release ultimate control. But what's important is that you show you CARE. You make an effort. You step outside of yourself. You "do for others." And Phil learns that, big time. There's another great scene where Phil helps a bunch of people in short succession, with an older woman stopping to thank him as "that nice young man from the motor club' (earlier he had changed a tire for her). And he performs the Heimlich maneuver on a choking friend, “Buster, the groundhog honcho.” Rita observes all of this and is astonished, asking, "What did you DO today?" "Oh, same old, same old," Phil replies casually.

When Phil demonstrates that he cares enough about others to pay attention and adjust his behavior, AND that he can be happy in the moment when he's having a pleasant evening with Rita, suddenly and mysteriously, the time loop stops. Rita and Phil wake up on a snowy February 3 together and the streets are empty outside the window. “Something's different,” Phil says. “Anything different is good!”

Indeed. With ANY trap, it’s up to us to make things different. WE are capable of influencing our attitude and our interactions, if not always the circumstances themselves. And there is wisdom and comfort in this. It’s a way of freeing ourselves from our own “existential time loops.”

In the movie, I love how the weather itself is an imposing, obstructive force at first (Phil and his crew are stranded by a blizzard), but it becomes beautiful and evocative later on. I adore the scene of local revelers dancing on Groundhog Day morning, and am charmed every single time when Phil brings coffee and pastries to Rita and Larry for setup, after watching him be abrasive and impatient earlier. I love seeing Phil and Rita dancing in the gazebo while snow falls around them. And I love ALL the diner scenes, especially the one where Phil tries to prove to a skeptical Rita that he's been reliving the same day over and over, by walking her around the diner's patrons and telling her personal information about many of them, things he couldn’t know unless he'd been doing this a LOT. The head waitress Doris just wants to visit Paris (“Boy, do I!” she exclaims). One guy collects toy soldiers. “Fred and Debbie are engaged, but Debbie is having doubts.” This scene leads to a later one where Phil has an impact by giving the young couple tickets to “Wrestlemania,” and it's implied that Phil also had a chat with Debbie to persuade her to go through w’th the wedding. Small-town folks get a good, sincere depiction here and I was fond of all of them, honestly. I’ve met people in this way, through casual conversations at diners or elsewhere. Just making someone laugh, or merely being KIND can raise the energy level of a situation. And of existence itself. Over and over again. Groundhog Day makes you like people more and encourages you to appreciate their quirks. That’s pretty awesome.

What would I do if I were forced to relive the same day over and over, like Bill Murray’s character? Well, it wouldn’t take me long to start getting to know the people around me. If I’m being honest, I'd probably look around and see if there was someone like “Nancy” to charm, although I doubt I'd make up a story about being a former classmate like Phil does. I would NOT try to kill myself to stop the repetition (Phil makes that attempt). I don’t think I’d be inclined to break the law, although that's hard to say unequivocally. But it hardly matters...a time loop is a fictional concept, and none of us are likely to experience one. But we should think about this movie when we feel stuck. And it’s worth thinking about when we can identify something in our own behavior that is holding us back. Or a risk we need to take that could make a difference. Or, most importantly, the difference we can make to someone else.

All of these things are explored with remarkable sensitivity and accompanied by a plethora of comic gems in Groundhog Day. The movie is widely quoted, Bill Murray gives one of his best and most far-reaching performances, it’s romantic, it’s a terrific “winter-set” film, and it makes the whole notion of noticing “what's around you and in front of you” something of great depth. Groundhog Day is ultimately a meditation on self-awareness, personal growth and what it means to be a good human being.

In Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut wrote a time travel story about a character coming “unstuck in time.” Phil Connors is a man who could be described as coming “unglued in a time trap.” And maybe “un-stuck on himself.” However you want to summarize it, Groundhog Day is, for my money, one of the most enriching, life-affirming, gently philosophical and atmospheric movies ever made. It’s become a cinematic touchstone, a cultural concept nearly everyone understands. You'll often read about someone making a comparison in a different milieu...” This is like Groundhog Day in the legislature,” or the like. This film started out as a Bill Murray vehicle with a unique comic premise. But it’s become something much more, for me personally and for numerous others I’ve met along the way who’ve formed a memorable connection to the film. And yes, you can watch it over and over and over again. There’s always something new to notice, learn and remember. Same with life…

Groundhog Day, and Its Timey-Wimey Meditation on Looking Up, Down and All Around

By Kevin Renick

Further reading:

Built by AP.