The sound of my morning alarm would wake me
up and then, as usual, it'd all be downhill from there. Being unemployed was
possibly the worst period of my life with each day following the same shitty
cycle as the last. Beyond the ritualistic combination of wanking and crying,
the only other thing to do was apply for jobs with each failed attempt being
like a kitchen knife to the horcrux. I'd send off cover letters, re-write c.v.’s,
attend various open days and phone people up but it all felt like it was to no
avail. Applying for jobs feels about as productive as using a sharpened turd to
write the word 'help' on some bog roll before flushing it into the sewers and
hoping for the existence of The Poop Fairy. Being employed isn't exactly peaches
either but at least you now have some sense of self-worth and a few extra
pennies to help block out the banality of our pointless fucking lives. When
you're unemployed, not only can you not afford to go out but nor can you afford
the suicidal cocktail of hardcore drugs that are essential to remaining sane
when trapped between four bastard walls. At least in a job you've got your time
off to look forward to but if you don't have any work to begin with then the
days just merge into one depressing, limbo-like half-life. The only true way to
acknowledge the passing of time is to carefully measure the increasing
collection of piss samples that are kept brewing in a jar on the window-sill.
Not having a job really is shit. Not having a job really is the closest you can
get to Groundhog Day.
As if it was all planned in advance, this
neatly brings me to the film we'll be discussing in this blog... shock,
motherfucking-horror, it's only bloody Groundhog Day!!! For any
philistines who've yet to see this movie I'll summarise the plot, although
seriously you need to just drop everything and watch it now because it's just
that damn good. Bill Murray plays Phil Connors, a Weatherman who some might
consider a little self-obsessed and who others might simply dismiss as being a
bastard. He's not the only Phil though as by coincidence he shares his name
with a small Groundhog that's used by the locals of Punxsutawney in
Pennsylvania to predict the weather. Every February 2nd, people
gather around the overinflated rat with tradition suggesting that if the furry
fucker sees its shadow then there'll be six more weeks of winter. Because
nothing boosts a person’s confidence like seeing an under-qualified rodent
bluff its way through your career, Phil the Weatherman is sent to report a news
story on it. He gets through the day, goes to bed and wakes up the next morning
to mysteriously find out that he's about to live the exact same thing all over
again. This happens over and over and over with Phil unexpectedly trapped in
some weird time loop that forces him to continually relive the same twenty-four
hours which were sadly quite shit to begin with. What a kick in the bollocks!
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| If there isn't at least one thing in this image that appeals to you, then we have nothing in common. |
However, Murray isn't the films sole asset
with its ambiguous, relatively broad set-up possibly being its second greatest
weapon. There's a theory floating about out there suggesting that our favourite
films are those in which our personal baggage is most effectively reflected
back at us. An example of this might be seen in Room 237 which is a
documentary looking at The Shining and the various theories that some
unhinged fans have decided that it is actually about. One person thought it was
about the genocide of the Native Americans, another thought it was a re-telling
of the Minotaur story and another thought it was Kubrick's way of admitting he
faked the moon landings. None of them are wrong in their readings however each
theory really tells more about those specific people than the film itself and
it turns out they're all demented fuck-nuggets. Groundhog Day is open
enough that almost anybody can relate to it because, let’s face it, who doesn't
have an aspect of their life that they feel is going nowhere. As I mentioned
earlier, it's unemployment that I was most reminded of whilst watching it but I
reckon it could honestly be applied to pretty much anything. Do you have a partner
with whom you feel things are getting a bit samey as they roll away from you
with yet another headache? As you secretly try and toss yourself off without
waking them up for the hundredth time in a row, you might think to yourself,
“for fucks sake this is just like Groundhog Day”. You could even be somebody a
bit more out of the normal like a serial killer for example... I'm sure when
somebody has strangled a good few prostitutes, things must eventually get a bit
repetitive for them and let’s face it, they probably only started their spree
in the first place as a response to their own dull lives.
So not only does this film have the comic
genius of Bill Murray at the centre of it but it also has a story that's
relatable to every kind of person, whether it is a rejected lover or a woman-hating
fuckhead. Even the Buddhists bone off it with the films central message of
selflessness and rebirth being fairly close to their own message of
spirituality. I guess the film is saying that if things have started to get a bit
dull then you need to investigate your inner-self rather than just relying on a
change in external forces. To be honest, I kind of agree. So is this film a
masterpiece? Well it's certainly one of my all time favourites and one that I
very much love but sadly I don't think it's quite flawless. If it's ninety-nine
percent perfect then I think that one percent anomaly would look something like
the grinning face of Andie MacDowell. For a start, the fact that she's even in
the film is annoying because to me she's that woman whose spent the last two
decades trying to flog me cosmetic products in crap adverts for shampoo and
anti-wrinkle cream. It takes her no less than thirty seconds to get on my tits
in them as it is and so a full on feature film with her is taking the absolute
piss.
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| News just in! Andie McDowell is shit! |
I guess it's another testament to the film
that even though I struggle with its romantic subplot, I still love it. I
watched it again recently due to the sad death of director Harold Ramis although
if it's any consolation it seems fairly definite that his film will long be
remembered after we've all also kicked the bucket. I mean, how many films can
claim that their title has become a short hand for something in the way that Groundhog
Day now refers to being stuck in a rut. Well I guess Forrest Gump has
become a handy insult for disabled people and “It was like Deliverance” usually
refers to when you thought you were going to get gay-raped... But those
probably aren't things that the makers tend to brag about. Groundhog Day is
just great with a fun concept, a brilliant central performance and apparently a
universally praised moral at the centre of it. Being unemployed was like having
a bag of ice rest on my balls in that it was dull, uncomfortable and I just
wanted it to be over but if there's anything I don't think I'll ever get bored
of it is, ironically, this film. Groundhog Day is an institution and
something that everybody should see. Feel good films can sometimes be a bit
annoying for somebody like me but I think I can certainly get on bored with one
in which a man repeatedly succeeds in killing himself only to wake up alive the
next morning and exclaim, “Ah nuts”. Fuck you world, and thanks for reading.
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