Is the start of this movie really a full minute of time-lapse cloudscapes and oompah music? Yes it is.
Is the start of this movie really a full minute of time-lapse cloudscapes and oompah music? Yes it is.
We meet Phil Connors midway through his presentation of the daily weather and he tells us that the place he would most like to be is, "Probably right here: Elko, Nevada". On a superficial level this is funny because it's the warmest place in the country and Phil's about to get stuck in his own personal frozen hellhole. On a deeper level, in Phil's very first line he tells us what he will have learnt after thousands of re-lived days in his Punxsutawney purgatory, i.e. that there is no place he would rather be than "right here", which as any good Buddhist will tell you, is the only place anyone should ever be.
Altoona, PA is 55 miles SE of Punxsutawney, PA.
We know Phil has a playful side from his irreverent forecast; we also learn he's slightly bitter by the way he says "Four, Nan.". (Yep, apparrently he calls her "Nan"; is this short for Nancy?)
Larry's joke is pretty bad—what does it even mean? Is he suggesting that the Home Shopping Network is bad? Or that it's the best place Phil could ever hope to work? Or both?
Phil gives a tiny little eye-raise the first time he sets eyes on Rita.
We've had the oompah music, now it's time for some 80s island music.
We're treated to a flyover of Pittsburgh, PA, as we zoom in on Phil, Rita and Larry's van as they travel the 80 miles NE to Punxsutawney.
Where are these houses? They're beautiful. (Apparently no-one knows where they are.)
I like blood sausage.
From oompah to island music to Sonny & Cher. Sublime.
Groundhog Day #1. Since this is the day Phil will live over and over again, and we assume that he does so because he's entered some kind of time loop, then it's not unreasonable to assume that one (or the totality) of his actions this day is what causes him to enter the loop. (The next 5:59 alarm-clock scene starts at 18:17.)
There are a few references in the film to Phil Connors having the same name as Phil the Groundhog, with hilarious ensuing comedy. This time there may be a genuine reason for us to question which Phil the DJs are talking about when they ask their listeners whether they think "Phil is going to come out and see his shadow"–is it Groundhog Phil in a literal sense, or weatherman Phil in a more metaphorical sense, i.e. will he see his own dark side and the errors of his ways up until that point.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #1: Phil being a smart alec to a total stranger.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #2: Phil gives the ol' eyebrow wiggle to a passing waitress.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #3: Phil being haughty and mean to Mrs. Lancaster.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #4: Feigning not carrying any cash to an elderly beggar. Tut, tut.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #5: Phil makes zero effort to remember an old classmate, one that asked his sister to the prom no less. Would a little graciousness have gone amiss here?
Instant karma: to what extent does stepping in a puddle of slush erase the day's dick moves?
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #6: Insulting the locals.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #7: Casually hitting on a colleague he barely knows.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #8: Arch cynicism.
Love how the dignitary holding the "Blizzard" sign upside down coolly turns it the right way up when someone in the crowd points out his error.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #9: Honking Larry's horn.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #10: A slapstick bonk on the head from a snow shovel.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #11: Insulting the barman.
Time Loop Trigger Possibility #12: Making a joke—albeit a funny one—at someone else's expense.
I've used one of these showers and Phil's panicked fumbling is not just Hollywood cliché.
Groundhog Day #2.
The eerie noise tells us that something's up, even though Phil's suggestion that they're broadcasting yesterday's tape is perfectly reasonable, not to mention surprisingly lucid for someone who only woke up eighteen seconds earlier.
"Porkchop"!
"Do you ever have déjà vu, Mrs. Lancaster?" "I don't think so, but I could check with the kitchen." Great line.
It's only Groundhog Day #2 and already Phil has the idea of snapping a pencil to test whether it's still snapped the morning after. Smart.
Groundhog Day #3.
It is my life's ambition to find myself in a scenario where I can quote this line to an arresting traffic officer.
Groundhog Day #4. Phil has just realised the beauty of the time loop he finds himself in, i.e. seeing his predicament like a glass-half-full kind of guy would.
The glass-half-full version of Phil is little different to the glass-half-empty version: he uses his freedom from consequences to be more of an arsehole to other people, without any of that irksome guilt holding him back. Case #1: smooching Mrs. Lancaster on the lips.
Phil no longer feels ashamed about not giving the homeless guy any money; he just arrogantly brushes off his request and saunters on.
Why feign tolerance of annoying highschool classmates when you can just smack them in the mouth and grin with self-satisfaction?
Phil could have used his knowledge of the treacherous kerbside ice pool to prevent others from stepping into it; instead, he takes wry pleasure from seeing some other poor schmuck that isn't him getting his foot wet.
The Art of Restraint.
Phil wastes no time in using his eternity of repeating days to get into the local ex-cheerleader's knickers.
Groundhog Day #5, in which Nancy proves as simple as she looks.
Groundhog Day #6. Presumably; either Phil had done some of his pre-robbery reconnaissance on the previous five days and so knows the exact timing of all events leading up to the cash collection by the Keystone Cop security guards by day 6, or there's a couple of days not shown out of artistic expedience.
The security service is actually called Keystone Armored Car Service.
I confess to having used this "one adult and one, err…" joke in real life.
Groundhog Day #7. Phil turns his attentions and efforts to wooing Rita.
Seeing Phil slightly embarrassed for slightly too long at being recognised by a member of the public is endearing.
There's no evidence this isn't slightly later in the same day, so I'm sticking with Day #7.
Groundhog Day #8. In which Phil discovers his distaste of sweet vermouth on the rocks, with a twist.
Groundhog Day #9. In which Rita reveals her distaste for white chocolate and Phil reveals his contempt for 19th-century French poetry.
Groundhog Day #10. In which Phil quotes the famous 19th-century French poet Jacques Brel: "La fille qui j'aimerai/Sera comme un bon vin/Qui se bonifiera/Un peu chaque matin".
Great duck.
Groundhog Day #11.
Groundhog Day #12.
Groundhog Day #13.
Groundhog Day #14.
Groundhog Day #15.
Groundhog Day #16.
Groundhog Day #17.
Groundhog Day #18. On the last walk home alone, after the last slap to the face, after his last attempt to trick Rita into fucking him, Phil is suddenly resigned to the fact that the woman he wants will never be his, and he feels like his guts have been ripped out and thrown on the snowy sidewalk. Probably.
Groundhog Day #19. Phil looks… depressed.
The giant slow-mo flipping alarm clock digits mark Groundhog Day #20. Phil has pretty much lost the will to live, which is cruel, because he can't die. Still, he can impress old folks watching Jeopardy with his knowledge of lakes and rivers.
Assuming Phil hadn't lept out of bed for a spot of early-morning whiskey and Jeopardy with the elderly hotel guests, we're now at Groundhog Day #21, and Phil has not only turned cynical and jaded, but his affection for Rita—such as it was—has turned into a bitter hatred.
Groundhog Day #22, in which Phil summons just enough energy to tip the alarm clock onto the floor.
Groundhog Day #23. Phil moves on to a full-on alarm clock fist smash.
Phil's wrestling moves on helpless alarm clocks are improving with each passing day—Groundhog Day #24 marks his first use of the alarm-clock body slam.
Still on Groundhog Day #24 (presumably), Phil decides that killing alarm clocks isn't enough, so he's going to kill both himself and the groundhog instead.
I love the overacting by the top-hatted dignitary, inviting the sedan to chase Phil's pick-up with a theatrical go-ahead finger-swoosh.
Larry's suggestion that Phil's kidnapping of Phil is indicative of a penchant for bestiality says more about Larry's possible attraction to animals than it does about Phil's, I find.
Bill Murray driving a pick-up with a groundhog on his lap is my enduring image of the film Groundhog Day.
So that's what an exploding groundhog squeal sounds like.
Groundhog Day #25. Phil realises that not even death can end his time loop. He either slams his head back in to the pillow and despair and goes back to sleep for the rest of the day, or he decides to walk downstairs to pick up the toaster from the dining room to take to the bath to toast himself with. Since the latter is possible and the day count is getting a little ridiculous, let's just say it's the same day.
Groundhog Day #26. Another suicide attempt, this time by walking in front of a truck. Can it be considered a successful attempt if he's immediately resurrected though?
Groundhog Day #27, and suicide #3—a leap from a tall building.
Groundhog Day #28, in which Phil confides to Rita that he is a god.
"Is this what you do with eternity?", a line read and immortalised by Nicky Wire in the Manic Street Preachers' song Groundhog Days.
"I've killed myself so many times I don't even exist any more.", a line read and immortalised by Nicky Wire in the Manic Street Preachers' song Groundhog Days.
Groundhog Day #28, and Phil has a sparkle in his eye again.
Standing at the window, Phil decides that, henceforth, his sole and ultimate purpose in life is to wake up on February 3rd with Rita in his arms, somehow. Or at least make the objective of his eternity positive and not nihilistic.
In previous encounters with the homeless man, Phil either pretended he didn't see him or wished he couldn't; now he not only sees him, but acknowledges him, and even gives him a wodge of cash—Phil's first selfless act.
Selfless act #2—bringing high-sugar snacks to his colleagues.
The selflessness continues as Phil assists and involves his colleagues in planning the morning's shoot.
Mozart's Piano Sonata #16, better known as the demo tune on the Yamaha PSR-16, which keyboard my brother (another Phil, appropriately) and I owned but only ever turned on to play the said demo at maximum speed, in what was possibly our finest childhood musical accomplishment.
Phil seems momentarily distracted, taken in by a moment of still beauty as he reads… a book, in his own company, seemingly just for the pleasure of reading. Or is it the Mozart tune in the background inspiring him to take piano lessons?
The piano student pushed out the door to make time and space for Phil holds a sad, dejected face for a really long time, to the point that I now think that's just her normal face.
Groundhog Day #29. Ciao!
The count starts to get a little tricky around here. Does Phil take piano lessons in the morning, then ice sculpt in the afternoon? How many "days" did it take Phil to master the art of ice sculpture, exactly?
It's unlikely Phil takes piano lessons, then ice sculpts, then goes back for more piano lessons, so let's call this Groundhog Day #30. Phil is playing Rachmaninoff's Eighteenth Variation from Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini, the recurring theme in another time-travel movie, Somewhere in Time, in which Christopher Reeve plays a character (called Richard) who hypnotises himself into a slumber to go back in time to meet and fall in love with the younger version of the old lady whom he had just met, and who gave him a watch to take back in time with him to give to her younger self, erm, again.
Phil only bumps into Ned Ryerson in the morning, so this must now be Groundhog Day #31. Phil appears to caring and friendly towards Ned at first, until his smile as Ned runs off tells us he was just fucking with him for a cheap laugh. Better than a punch in the face though, so progress.
Groundhog Day #31, in which the homeless man still dies, even after copious amounts of greasy food and questionable CPR.
Groundhog Day #32, and Phil has gotten literary as he quotes Chekhov in his weather report.
My good friend Alejandro does this gag where he leaves (or pretends to leave) a tip in a tray or on the counter or wherever after a meal or a drink and then hovers his hand over it as if to pick it up just long enough to draw your attention to it but then pulls his hand away, all innocent like, as soon as you turn your head, then repeats that same gesture a couple more times, then laughs, then picks up the money anyway and leaves. I would swear he got the idea from this scene if it wasn't for the fact he's never seen a single movie filmed before 2003.
Rita actually witnesses Larry's low-key rejection and is just like, "Yep, that's Larry alright."
The Gibson Les Paul Custom in alpine white, axe of choice of James Dean Bradfield.
The big reveal here is that Debbie was having second thoughts about marrying Fred not because of anything he's done, but because she gets jealous any time he pecks the cheek of a total stranger.
Did someone say Dismemberment Plan?
The clock ticks over to 06:00 on the 3rd of February and there is a wan sunlight coming through the windows. Sunrise in Punxsutawney, PA, on February 3rd is approximately 07:24.
Every day of our lives can be played out in an infinite variety of ways, much like Phil had an infinite choice every 2nd of February.