Saturday, October 23, 2010
Grownd Hawg Day
Happy Saturday to ya, Peeps.
Just watched most of one of my favourite movies - Groundhog Day.
The only reason I'm blogging it is because something strange happened during the film. My Dad walked in. I was kind of happy to see him, after we shared an effort this morning moving a kitchen cupboard. A heavy kitchen cupboard. There was a moment of connection there this morning that was nice. So Dad comes home during Groundhog Day and I greet him and ask if he's seen it.
'Yeah' he offers without a shred of joy.
'How many times?' I ask with requisite intended hilarity (and if you don't get it you either haven't seen the film, or shouldn't be reading this blog).
The tone with which this is delivered gives me the impression father is not amused.
How can you not like Groundhog Day? And if you don't, what is it about it you don't like?
It works on so many levels. And it works brilliantly on each of those levels.
Bill Murray plays a TV journalist who is a complete and utter jerk. However, over the course of what could be years of the same, endlessly repeating day, turns into a character worthy of the requited love of the female lead (admirably portrayed by Andie McDowell).
There are so many lessons in this movie, and it is handled so delicately and hilariously, that it is well within my top 20 movies of all time. So much so that I now realise that I try to live my life as close to the 'reformed' central character as is humanly possible.
Yet my old man hates it. I scoured the screenplay for any moments of overt antisemitism (you should have heard him unleash on some pathetic Irish comic last night as he switched the television off) yet could find none. He was unforthcoming, so I remain bewildered at the reason my Dad hates Groundhog Day.
Meh. If you hate Groundhog Day, comment below and let me know why. Give me a window to peer in to the soul of my grumpy old father.