In the beginning of the movie after the confusion wears off and the caustic and self-centered Phil Connors realizes that he's doomed to keep reliving Groundhog Day, his first instinct is to live it up a little bit. He has some flings, he steals some money. The novelty of that soon wears off, and Phil winds up depressed. No one can understand the hell he's living, and he offs himself in many and varied ways - all to no avail. He always wakes up to the sound of Sonny and Cher at 6 a.m. on Groundhog Day in the same insipid B&B. Finally, Phil decides he will become a better man. If he's stuck repeating the same day ad infinitum, he wants to make something more of his life. I'm a sucker for redemption, and this part of the movie always gets me.
Even if you're not Phil Connors and living the same day over and over again, winter in Wisconsin can make anyone feel that they are. Invariably, when winter has really only just begun, I'm already feeling cooped up, ready to go out of my mind if I'm stuck inside one more day. After my dose of Groundhog, however, I'm trying to remind myself that I'm really not stuck. Undeniably during this time of year, it's more challenging to overcome inertia, but I have options. I may not take this winter and learn to play piano and carve Andie MacDowell's likeness in ice a la Phil Connors, but I can take the boys sledding, take a walk, make some popcorn and hot chocolate and watch a movie with my family.
At the end of the movie, Phil offers what will be his final commentary on Groundhog Day: "When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter."
I may never feel that warmly toward winter, but since I'm stuck in it, I want to try to make the best of it and recognize its beauty.
