GROUNDHOG DAY: The True Excitement of a Large Squirrel Predicting the Weather

Groundhog Day (1993) – Directed by Harold Ramis – Starring Bill Murray, Andie MacDowell, Chris Elliott, Stephen Tobolowsky, and Brian Doyle-Murray.

The pleasant irony of GROUNDHOG DAY is that rewatching the same movie over and over again never gets old, unlike reliving the same day over and over again gets old for Phil Connors inside the movie. GROUNDHOG DAY is one of the best Bill Murray vehicles we’ve got, and one of the most rewatchable movies around. Every time I watch it I get sucked right back in to the story. It’s one of those movies where knowing all the lines somehow makes watching it even better.

Phil Connors is a perfect Bill Murray vehicle. He’s a Pittsburgh weatherman, successful but not extraordinarily so, which allows him to have an ego but not to big time very many people. Despite being a weatherman for a major city’s nightly newscast, most people don’t seem to know who he is or aren’t overly impressed by it. He gets to be successful enough to think he’s a bigger deal than he is, which is perfect for Murray’s caustic attitude.

The true genius of GROUNDHOG DAY is that it takes the dour feeling of the mundane, everyday existence that many people feel and exacerbates it through science fiction. There’s a scene in the film where Connors, feeling trapped by having to live the same day over and over again, laments his case to two working class Joes in a bowling alley. He asks them to imagine how awful life would be if every day of their life played out exactly the same; for Connors, of course, success allows him to have a life full of different experiences and to feel good about himself, but these two regular guys already feel like every day is the same day. It’s telling that we see them in the morning at the diner and then later at the bowling alley, their lives marked by what seems like routine – not only do they have to wake up every day to perform the same job, the inference is that they’re regulars in their off-work hours, too.

Connors is forced to live Groundhog Day over and over again, and director Harold Ramis does an outstanding job of using the repetitive nature of the days for both comedy and drama. While GROUNDHOG never becomes maudlin, it doesn’t shy away from the shifting moods Connors experiences during his seemingly eternal damnation. Ramis uses the quick advancement of days (concentrating on a singular scene or moment) to help build momentum, and intercuts this with elongated scenes that are most important to Phil.

The mood is always kept relatively light, with Phil in a state of not-so-quiet desperation. His shifting moods echo those of the rest of us who might feel like we’re trapped in the grind – there are moments or periods of time when you feel really good because you find something new in the routine to occupy your thoughts and others when you feel incredibly low because whatever highs you might have are always temporary in the face of the similarity of your days.

GROUNDHOG is also a rather clever film in terms of playing stereotypes versus individual personalities. Everyone in this film is marked as a type until Phil gets to know them. Over the course of the film, both seen by us and taking place off-camera, Phil gets to know seemingly everyone in town.

Which brings up the question – why does the calendar eventually roll over into a new day for Phil? The easy answer, of course, is that it’s because he’s proven himself to be a good guy who wins true love with his new producer, Rita (Andie MacDowell). His final day in town sees him as a selfless individual who runs around helping everyone, but why do we think this is anything more than Phil’s latest phase? He’s used this eternal repetition to get laid, to to get rich, to kill himself … he’s been happy, depressed, deranged … why is Selfless Phil any different? Why are we to think this isn’t just another phase? And why does the film reward Selfless Phil?

Well, it’s because the film wants to enforce the idea that being selfless is the right way to live. If you do that, after all, everyone likes you and Andie MacDowell wants to date you. But what if it was something else?

The film doggedly doesn’t tell us who or what is responsible for life being stuck, as Phil (and thus the movie) is more concerned with what is happening instead of why. Phil does see a shrink about what’s going on, but the shrink is completely useless. He never goes to visit a holy man or scholar to attempt to discover what’s going on. He simply deals with the physical reality of what’s happening, meaning that some mornings he runs from Ned (Stephen Tobolowsky), some mornings he talks to Ned, and some mornings he punches Ned in the face. (Every time I see Tobolowsky, wherever it is, I instantly hear Murray saying, “Ned? Ned Ryerson?” and then see him clocking Ned in the face.) On the final Groundhog Day, it’s revealed that Phil has bought all sorts of life insurance from Ned, which leads me to my supposition that GROUNDHOG DAY is a much darker movie than the tone of the film indicates.

What if Phil’s life doesn’t become unstuck because he’s selfless? What if Phil’s life becomes unstuck because the town has finally gotten everything out of him it ever could?

On that final day, we see Phil selflessly giving himself to the townsfolk. He saves a boy from falling out of a tree, saves a man from choking, buys insurance from Ned, and crafts a Groundhog Day report of such eloquence that all other news cameras have turned to him. At the night’s celebratory party, seemingly everyone wants to thank Phil for something he’s done for them. He’s gotten to know just about everyone and become a positive force in their lives. What else is there for him to do?

I’d like to suggest that a second possibility for how to read the ending of the film is much more sinister than Phil simply becoming selfless. Perhaps the town of Punxsutawney has been holding Phil here against his will until he has served the town’s interests. What does Phil say to Rita at the end of the movie as they walk out of the bed and breakfast?

“Let’s live here.”

Knowing that Phil has been assimilated into the town, Punxsutawney lets time move forward again. It no longer needs to keep Phil trapped because Phil has succumbed to Stockholm Syndrome and embraced the town he once shunned. Phil has convinced himself he now wants to never leave, after perhaps multiple lifetimes of not being able to leave. The skills Phil learns – playing the piano, learning foreign languages, becoming familiar with great literary works – suggests a far longer period of time in Punxsutawney than the film shows us as definitely having happened.

This interpretation makes GROUNDHOG DAY a bleaker, but more powerful film. Where The Matrix indicates that your life is someone else’s construct that you’ve been unknowingly hoodwinked into believing, GROUNDHOG DAY argues that it’s your own willingness to buy into the grander narrative that “saves” you. Unlike The Matrix, GROUNDHOG DAY also allows both interpretations to be equally true. Phil really could be rewarded for becoming selfless, but it’s telling to me that all of his selfless acts benefit the same people: the citizens of Punxsutawney. We don’t see Phil correcting his past sins or connecting with people he’s once wronged (except for Needlenose Ned), but rather becoming a servant to a bunch of people he doesn’t know, in a place he doesn’t like coming.

I love GROUNDHOG DAY. It is, without question, one of my all-time favorite movies. I love the idea that, given enough time, we can all become good people who are willing to help others.

But there’s this stray tickle in the back of my brain that says there’s a darker side to the idyllic quaintness of that groundhog and the town he calls home. And if that’s the case, then GROUNDHOG DAY just might be the single greatest horror movie ever committed to film.

GHOSTBUSTERS: Generally, You Don’t See That Behavior Out of a Major Appliance

Ghostbusters (1984) – Directed by Ivan Reitman – Starring Bill Murray, Dan Ackroyd, Sigourney Weaver, Harold Ramis, Rick Moranis, Ernie Hudson, Annie Potts, Jennifer Runyon, and William Atherton.

Has there ever been a better movie sleazeball than William Atherton? Atherton’s Walter Peck serves as the only human villain in GHOSTBUSTERS, an officious agent of the Environmental Protection Agency who wants to shut the Ghostbusters down because his mother didn’t love him enough. Peck plays a small but important role in GHOSTBUSTERS, transitioning us from the first spectral bad guys (the old lady in the library and Slimer, most notably) to the latter demons (Gozer, Zuul, the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man). Peck also gives Peter Venkman (Bill Murray) someone to verbally combat, because as cool as Slimer may be, he’s not much for conversation. Atherton provides as good an annoying slimebag here as he will in Die Hard a few years later, establishing himself as one of the ultimate “that guys,” and earning himself a spot in the movie I’d make if someone let me make a movie.

I bring Atherton up first in this reaction to GHOSTBUSTERS because it helps to enforce how important secondary casting decisions are in a movie like GHOSTBUSTERS, a high-concept comedy about a group of fired professors who open a ghost catching business in New York City. Along with Annie Potts, Rick Moranis, and Ernie Hudson, it’s four of the film’s smaller roles that keep the story’s infrastructure strong and grounded.

First, let’s be clear about one thing – this is Bill Murray’s movie from start to finish. The movie might be called GHOSTBUSTERS, and Dan Ackroyd (as Raymond Stantz) and Harold Ramis (as Egon Spengler) might get to wear the outfits and fire the fancy energy guns, but this film puts Bill Murray in the center and lets everyone and everything revolve around him. Neither Ackroyd or Ramis are very good here (Ackroyd’s style of humor always feels more suited to the broader style of TV sitcoms than motion pictures), but they don’t need to be, and they wisely create their characters to be supportive of the story: Stantz is the earnest true believer and Spangler is the awkward brains, yet both feel like real characters because they’re alternately thrilled, confused, scared, brilliant, and clueless.

It’s a wise move to put Murray in the center, of course, because Murray is the film’s best actor, and his sense of humor best sets the tone for the film’s comedy. Venkman opens the film by rigging a science experiment so a geek gets electro-shocked and a beauty (Jennifer Runyon) doesn’t. Venkman really isn’t interested in the science; he’s just interested in scoring with a hot student. Ray interrupts him, tells him there’s been some paranormal activity and Venkman wants to pass, but when the hottie agrees to come back to his office later on (“At 8?” she suggests. “I was just going to say that,” charms Venkman), he goes with Ray and Egon to the public library, where an old lady ghost is waiting for them downstairs.

When the old lady ghost gets all spooky demon face, the three men run screaming from the building. It’s a fantastic bit, with our three heroes being revealed as honest cowards. They return to their lab at Columbia in time to get fired, so Venkman convinces them to go into business together and after spending all their money without getting a client, Dana Barrett (Sigourney Weaver) walks into their converted firehouse. Dana had some paranormal activity in her apartment a few days earlier and has finally worked up the coverage to visit the Ghostbusters (whose cheesy ad she’d seen on TV right before her store-bought eggs started cooking themselves on her counter).

Weaver provides another perfect foil for Murray (or perhaps Murray is just that good that he can play off anyone), her serious questions matching perfectly with his cartoonish science. “What does that even do?” she asks as Venkman walks around her apartment spraying something. “It’s technical,” Venkman answers back. Just like with the student earlier, Venkman is less interested in the science as he is in making the moves on the attractive woman, but where the student bought his act, Dana is cooler towards him because she can see through his routine.

Venkman doesn’t find any demons in Dana’s refrigerator, but soon after this failed investigation, things start to pick up. The Sedgewick Hotel has a ghost problem and they bring the boys in to catch a green, gelatinous eat monster they name Slimer. Along with the giant Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man at the end, the Sedgewick Hotel sequence is the film’s signature moment as the team faces a ridiculous ghost that’s as funny to us as it is scary to them. After tearing up the 12th floor, they finally trap Slimer in the ball room where they nearly destroy the place in capturing him. Director Ivan Reitman does an excellent job building a great scene that both stands on its own and explains how their equipment works, and when the hotel manager refuses to pay the $5,000 bill, the guys let him know they can free the ghost, so then the manager agrees and the busting business is off and running.

Complete with a montage! Featuring newspaper and magazine covers! And Ray Parker’s theme song!

You said it, Ray, bustin’ makes me feel good, too. Although, to be fair, neither Ray nor I did any kind of ghost busting. Which makes me wonder why Ghost Hunters has never had Ray Parker on. Well okay, probably no one under the age of 35 knows who Ray Parker is, but why not Ackroyd? He’s into all this paranormal stuff. Make it happen, SyFy.

There’s a big paranormal outbreak in the city so they have to hire a fourth hand (Ernie Hudson) to help them out. Apparently, the role was originally written for Eddie Murphy (just as the Venkman role was written for John Belushi and the Louis Tully role was written for John Candy instead of Rick Moranis) and intended to be much bigger, but when Murphy wasn’t available they downsized the role … almost to the point where they shouldn’t have bothered. Still, Hudson makes good in the scenes he is in, as a working class guy who knows he’s in over his head but is happy to be picking up a steady paycheck.

Though he does want his own lawyer. At least until the Mayor calls.

After Peck uses his legal power to shut down the Ghostbusters’ containment unit, all of the trapped ghosts go free. Peck has them arrested, but then the mayor comes and gets them out in order to ask for their help, which leads to the final scene against the Stay-Puft Giant. The team’s final victory occurs when they cross the streams of their weapons and shut the doorway to the other dimension. It’s a bit of a letdown, really, since the big victory happens when they fire their guns into a doorway instead of into the Stay-Puft Giant, but marshmallow still gets blown all over the building and the team (except for Venkman, who manages to not get creamed and get the girl).

GHOSTBUSTERS is a fantastic movie, always amusing and with a fine narrative. Reitman does a bang-up job balancing the story with the laughs, and the science with the action. He deftly blends in the Gozer/Zuul subplot with Dana and Louis to keep things moving, and balances the ghost/human bad guys with Peck and the ghost of the moment. There are a million movies that take place in New York City, but Reitman does a fantastic job making you feel like this movie has to take place there because the city feels like a supporting character.

While GHOSTBUSTERS doesn’t make me laugh harder than any other comedy ever, long-time readers of the Anxiety will know that I place a lot of value on a movie’s story over it’s belly laughs; GHOSTBUSTERS is always entertaining and never sacrifices story just to be funny, which is what more comedies should aim to achieve. The end result is one of the signature performances by one of film’s best actors and one of the most enjoyable films ever made.

Now here’s a little something to get stuck in your head for the rest of they day: