It is becoming clearer and clearer that Groundhog Day (1993), directed by Harold Ramis, is one of the masterpieces of 1990s Hollywood cinema. One of the first films to use a science-fiction premise as the basis for romantic comedy, it tells the story of a splenetic TV weatherman, Phil Connors (Bill Murray at his disreputable best), who finds himself indefinitely repeating one drab day in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. The film is a deeply ambivalent fable: before he finds redemption Phil must plumb the depths of suicidal despair--and even after he has survived this, there are no guarantees that he will live happily ever after.
Ryan Gilbey begins his account of Groundhog Day with the long and unlucky gestation of the script by Danny Rubin, who was interviewed for this book. Gilbey celebrates the inspired casting of Murray, Andie MacDowell, and less well-known actors such as Stephen Tobolowsky. In a subtle analysis, he unpacks the film's remarkable blend of humor and melancholy, revealing Groundhog Day to be a rare beast--a mainstream Hollywood comedy that grows richer with each repeat viewing.
Groundhog Day is here again – February 2nd – and unless your name is Phil Connors, and you are the luckless Pittsburgh weatherman who serves as protagonist of Harold Ramis’s 1993 film Groundhog Day, tomorrow should be February 3rd for you. Yet Ramis’s cinematic story of a man who is mysteriously condemned to repeat the same day, over and over, struck a chord with the moviegoing public, and unexpectedly became one of the biggest critical and commercial successes of the early 1990’s – and Ryan Gilbey conveys well his sense of the reasons for the film’s ongoing power and influence in his 2004 book Groundhog Day.
Gilbey, who writes regularly on film for British publications like The Guardian and The Independent, wrote Groundhog Day as an entry in the British Film Institute’s BFI Modern Classics series. The series’ editor, Rob White, states that “The series gathers together snapshots of our passion for and understanding of recent movies”; and aficionados of various films from the past 30 years, from Blade Runner (1982) to Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988), can find in this series a concise appreciation and analysis of a number of recent films.
In the case of Groundhog Day, Gilbey begins by providing insights into the creative genesis and production history of the film. For instance, screenwriter Danny Rubin, who co-wrote the film with director Ramis, explains why, while writing the film, he originally did not see Groundhog Day as an appropriate project for the film’s eventual star, Bill Murray:
I wanted it to feel whimsical, but real. I think in the end it felt a little less real than I expected….I wanted a Kevin Kline – someone like that. The studio wanted a big comedian in the centre role. I was sceptical. I like Bill Murray’s work, but I didn’t think he had the acting chops to make it work. Harold told me that [Bill] would be right for the part, and he was right. At that time Bill was starting to take on more meaty roles as an actor, and it came at a good time for him. (p. 26)
Gilbey then leads the reader on a detail-rich, scene-by-scene rhetorical analysis of Groundhog Day. We learn, among other things, how many times Phil Connors is shown repeating Groundhog Day in the Pennsylvania town of Punxsutawney that is home to the annual Groundhog Day ritual – and how much screen time each of these repetitions takes up. Gilbey also places a helpful emphasis on audience reaction to the events of the film.
In considering Phil Connors’s fourth repetition of Groundhog Day, for example, Gilbey reminds the reader of how, each time Phil leaves his hotel, he is accosted at a downtown Punxsutawney intersection by an obnoxious former high-school classmate, Ned Ryerson (“‘Needle-Nose Ned’? ‘Ned the Head’? C’mon, buddy! Case Western High! Ned Ryerson! I did the whistling-belly-button trick at the high-school talent show? Bing!”). On Phil Connors’s “Groundhog Day #4,” Gilbey suggests, the audience becomes complicit in Phil’s response to his annoying former schoolmate:
Then we hear that voice, that ingratiating voice. “Phil? Hey, Phil?” Phil looks elated. “Ned?” he calls out, and throws a punch that spins Ned around in a spectacular 180-degree pirouette, so that his gobsmacked, goggle-eyed face is now pointed toward the camera for the few glorious seconds before he hits the ground. It’s the moment we have been waiting for: a literal punchline that releases the anxiety hoarded by Phil, and by us, over the “previous” three days. To hear the euphoric response to that scene in a packed auditorium is to comprehend how tightly the film has got us coiled at this point. (p. 50)
At the heart of Groundhog Day is the emotional and spiritual redemption of Phil Connors. The rude and self-obsessed Pittsburgh weatherman, upon realizing that he is condemned to repeat Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney over and over and over, at first seeks out selfish pleasures (violence, consequence-free sex, robbery); then, in despair, he tries repeatedly but unsuccessfully to take his own life.
Eventually, Phil Connors comes to understand that focusing upon himself – whether in search of self-gratification or self-destruction – is not doing him any good. Rather, each of his repetitions of a single day gives him a chance to start making a positive difference in the lives of others; and the beginning of his transformation is signaled when he brings coffee and breakfast to his producer Rita (played by Andie MacDowell) and his cameraman Larry (played by Chris Elliott), greets them cheerfully, and makes a helpful suggestion for the crew’s filming of Punxsutawney’s Groundhog Day ritual.
PHIL [arriving at Gobbler's Knob with coffee and pastries]: Who wants coffee? Get it while it's hot.
RITA [surprised]: Thanks, Phil.
PHIL: Larry? Skim milk, two sugars.
LARRY [surprised]: Thanks, Phil.
PHIL: Pastry?
RITA: We're just setting up.
PHIL: Take your pick.
LARRY: Thanks. Raspberry! Great!
PHIL: I was just talking with Buster Green, the head groundhog honcho. He said if we set up over here, we might get a better shot. What do you think?
RITA [still surprised, but pleased]: Sounds good!
PHIL [to Larry]: What do you think?
LARRY [visibly pleased]: Let's go for it!
RITA [to Phil]: Good work!
PHIL: Maybe we'll get lucky. [to Larry] Let me help you with the heavy stuff. You got your coffee. I'll get it. - You know, we never talk. Do you have kids?
It is such a small thing - a few moments of ordinary kindness - and yet it lifts my heart every time I watch that film.
One kind deed leads to another, and another, and another; kind deeds, like cruel ones, can become a habit, a self-perpetuating continuum. One of the pleasures of reading a film-production study like Gilbey’s Groundhog Day consists in hearing about roads not taken, ideas left unexplored, scenes considered but not filmed. Viewers who remember the montage of Phil racing from point to point to help people – catching a boy who has fallen from a tree; fixing a flat tire for a group of older ladies whose car has broken down; saving the life of Buster Green, who is choking on a piece of food – may be interested to know that the original screenplay for Groundhog Day went even further in that regard:
Rubin’s first revision [of the film’s script] included even more examples of Phil’s good deeds – pumping the stomach of Janey, a lovesick girl who has attempted suicide; removing an old lady from the path of a truck – but the real ingenuity comes when he devises some short cuts to help maximise his limited hours. He places a rock in the road so that the lorry carrying the fish to the restaurant – the fish that Buster will later choke on – will not make its delivery. He tells Janey that the object of her affection has feelings for her. And he puts chewing gum on the pavement to delay the old woman on her way to the road. (p. 76)
In less than 90 pages, Gilbey conveys what makes Groundhog Day a uniquely cinematic experience, one that “could not be rendered in any other medium” (p. 88). Any fan of the film is likely to appreciate Gilbey’s thoughtful and thorough look at Groundhog Day, a film about repetition that invites and rewards repeat viewings.
Re-watching Groundhog Day has its ironic pleasures, as does reading about someone else re-watching it. Re-reading about the re-takes they did is like a hall of ironic mirrors which glitter like the basilisk stare of Bill Murray from his window on the 5,789th Groundhog Day and it's still a winter wonderland.
Groundhog Day is the best comedy of the last 30 years, I think. Only Being John Malkevich comes close. The suicides sequence is pure genius.
I admit that Andeeeee McDowell is beyond irritating, as she is in everything. Maybe she's the grit in this oyster which makes the pearl. Or maybe she's just smug and irritating, which, Lord knows, she is.
Once again the eyes of the nation have turned here to this tiny village in western Pennsylvania blah blah blah bah bah ba blah bah...
??? 2000s: this is one of my favorite films. this is why. i just read this again today, laughing in recollection. can i make this a six star rating? here in the northern hemisphere i think we should celebrate february 2. every year. and then again. this little bfi book is a great reminder of how sometimes the stars and planets align... and the hollywood dream factory earns its name. this book notes how each day phil connors lives is the same then different, each day cut into significant moments, then moves on rapidly once the audience catches on. for every moment of seriousness, of bleak reflection, there can only be one answer- car chase! and could anyone ever top bill murray in his best role? you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll guffaw, you'll do it all over again, and again, and again... every 2 february. book it.
By far the best in the BFI Film Classics series that I’ve read so far. It’s exactly what you want from a book about one of your favourite movies: the perfect cocktail of scene analysis, film theory, and historical context surrounding the film.
What Ryan Gilbey excels in doing is blending each aspect and never focusing on one for too long, adding his own voice and opinion where necessary. It treats both kinds of reader (those who’ve seen the movie and those who haven’t) with equal respect, and though Groundhog Day is one of my personal favourites, I could happily recommend this to someone who’s never seen Bill Murray painstakingly endure hundreds (or thousands? Millions?) of February 2nds.
What provided the most value for me, as someone who’s viewed this nearly as many times as Phil Connors has days in Punxsutawney, was the continued reference to Danny Rubin’s first draft of the script; Gilbey is keen to note how different the film could have been had director Harold Ramis not been so clinical in his edits. I’m itching to read that first draft now, as I’d be fascinated by what kind of movie Groundhog Day could have been.
Lastly, I simply can’t resist the urge to say - I could read this one day, after day, after day…
I had to read and watch Groundhog Day as part of my coursework. From Dickens, the picture borrows the idea of a decayed soul getting the chance to pick himself up, dust himself off and start all over again, though here it’s millions of chances, millions of starts.
Groundhog Day takes this to its maddening extreme, offering an unspecified string of once-upon-a-times.
Phil is abandoned without instruction or insight in his icy, isolated hell. The audience, similarly stranded, will know how he feels.
Now if the moon exerts a gravitational pull strong enough to cause the tides, then it may be theoretically possible for a Black Hole or a singularity of sufficient magnitude to actually bend time enough to cause it to fold back in on itself.
“Phil, if you could be anywhere in the world, where would you like to be?" And I said to them, “Probably right here.’” On ‘here’, his hand moves into view. He is gesturing at the middle of the vast blue void. The place where he would most like to be is in that void: the middle of nowhere, off the map. Be careful what you wish for, Phil. The camera pulls back to reveal that he is standing against a blue screen over which the satellite weather map is super-imposed. He is, literally, in limbo. His actions only make sense in context - on the television screen to the right of the frame, his abstract hand movements relate to the weather map, but in the real world there is no harmony between him and his mise en scene. In the real world, he looks like he’s flailing.
Cut to a radio alarm clock on a bedside table. It could be any radio alarm clock, any table. Any room - flowery wallpaper, a nondescript bed, a vase of plastic flowers. The time is 5.59. No - now it’s 6.00. The alarm kicks in. Sonny and Cher are nearing the end of their bubblegum love song ‘I Got You Babe’. We hear Sonny singing ‘Then put your little hand in mine / There ain’t no hill or mountain we can’t climb.’ The song had miraculously survived every draft of the script. Rubin says: I remembered it as a song that involved a lot of repetition of that phrase, ‘I got you babe’, as well as a false ending, after which the repetitions start up again. I don’t think we wound up even using that aspect of the song in the movie. But that’s how I came up with the song, and it continued to be a good idea as the script progressed. Plus, of course, it’s a love song with some ironic resonances with the love story of the movie. The camera pulls back slowly to the left. ‘I got you, babe ...’ And ‘got’ has other meanings too - understood, snared, bamboozled. He’s got you, babe. He s got you. The words sound sinister when they’re repeated, but then that s pop songs for you. Every breath you take, every move you make, I'll be watching you. Ready or not, here I come, you can’t hide, I’m gonna find you...
The film ends with the classic fairytale ending of 'The Frog Price'. The princess (Rita) kisses the frog (Phil) and the spell broke and he turned into a handsome prince and they got married and lived happily ever after.
Absolutely charming, thoughtful and wistful psalm to the film. I did not know the author but will look for more of his work. Cannot recommend highly enough. An essay to treasure and hold close to your heart.
Really fun book. It’s a quick read on the movie but it helps you think more deeply about it. Gilbey has a great style, he makes the reading engaging and fun. I thoroughly enjoyed this book.
exactly what I wanted it to be, though like the others does recount the plot a bit too much. but a big love letter to the movie with a few notes even I didn't know about.
February 2nd came and went; I can breathe a sigh of relief. It is February 3rd as I write this, and I am not in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, but rather a couple of hours away in State College. Moreover, I have every reason to believe that tomorrow will be February 4th for me. Anyone who has seen Harold Ramis's Groundhog Day (1993) will at once understand these references. In Groundhog Day, a book that is part of the British Film Institute Press's Modern Classics series, Ryan Gilbey provides a fine history of the film's production, including a detailed account of how screenwriter Danny Rubin's original script was significantly darker and grimmer than the final film; a perceptive close reading of the film from beginning to end; and an incisive analysis of the impact of Groundhog Day on popular culture. How often is repetition in any of our lives spoken of as a Groundhog Day moment? As we wake up at the same time, eat the same thing for breakfast, drive along the same route to the same job, perform the same tasks in our workplace, go to the same place for lunch, drive home at the end of the day along the same route, listening to the same radio station play the same songs...uh-oh. Perhaps there's a little bit of Groundhog Day in all our lives. Gilbey does an effective job of emphasizing the disquieting qualities of what may be, culturally speaking, one of the most influential films of the 1990's.
Un análisis cinematográfico en profuncidad de "El día de la marmota"( Groundhog Day), traducida al español como "Atrapado en el tiempo". A lo largo de las páginas de este libro vamos viendo la película narrada escena a escena mientras el autor nos cuenta muchas similitudes e influencias con otras películas y libros, al tiempo que nos revela detalles que pueden ser o no buscados por el director (las rayas del papel pintado del comedor son verticales, sugiriendo los barrotes de una celta, Phil Connors está "encerrado" en Punxsatawney). El libro está bien, salvo por la catastrófica maquetación, y se deja leer. En sus págians se citan decenas de libros y películas relacionados, de los cuales ya he elegido algunos. Muy interesante.
The movie is so so good minus the whole love interest part and it was nice to read it as a book with extra information about the backgrounds, it even has some stuff about the actors which I thought was pretty cool
Edit: obviously I didn’t read this full book or remember the movie well enough because I had no idea the answer was actually not in romantic intent but all the good deeds that led up to him winning her over. Gibley did an amazing analysis on this movie and I learned many things about symbolism in the movie and the significance of camera shots and scenes that didn’t make the final cut. This book was also helpful for figuring out how people react to time loops, which is what the book im currently writing is about (: thank you to my aunt Kendra for giving me this book.
After watching the movie a couple of years ago I decided to get the book, I wanted to know more about the moral aspects of Phil and how much time he spent trapped in Groundhog Day, I have to day I didn´t got left down.
I watch this film at least once a year. I’m sure there are people who think of this film – seen or unseen – as “just another Bill Murray/Harold Ramis comedy.” I really believe it is far more profound than you would think at a glance. I don’t know that the filmmakers’ intended all of that, but it’s there.
I am not crazy in my belief that’s there’s more here than meets the viewing eye. Do a search on “Groundhog Day” and add something like philosophy, Buddhism, Zen, etc. and you’ll get plenty of hits of others who feel the same way.
I wrote more on the film at https://paradelle.wordpress.com/2014/... but my review of the book is that it's three stars for the average reader who saw the film and possibly four stars for anyone with a passion for the film. I reviewed for the former.
I love talking about the film with friends, so the book is a rather one-sided conversation with some well-informed fans. That's enjoyable. Even if a few of them slip into lecture hall mode sometimes.