8:48 came and went and no JThunder.
I guess he found happiness. 
Gosh, you’re an upbeat lady!
This one I’m not convinced. Those cop lights are still seen flashing through the rear window of the car Phil is driving even as he’s turning the wheel.
:o aw, shucks :o
Phil: You wanna throw up here, or you wanna throw up in the car?
Ralph: I think… both.
He can kill all the people he wants, it’s not going to matter. Those cops will be fine in the morning.
No way! NO WAY! Wrestlemania!!!
Maybe not. I’ve often wondered if maybe each day, each scenario, continues on in its own little universe. That it doesn’t REALLY get reset, but rather each new day is a new offshoot, and so you have all of these parallel universes, 10,000 or 100,000 of them, however many days we’re talking. So in one universe, Phil really will be imprisoned for a lengthy spell, in another he really has killed himself etc. It’s simply that a new Phil wakes up at the beginning of a new offshoot while retaining the memories of each one.
Here’s another one I’ve considered: The blizzard does not arrive until later in the morning, after the groundhog shoot and getting a little breakfast in the cafe and Larry getting the truck ready. They don’t seem to be closing the highway until just about the time they get there. It seems like if Phil really wanted to spend the day somewhere else, he could, the moment he woke up, jump into his clothes and haul out of there. Hop a bus or pay someone to drive him back to Pittsburgh before the storm broke. Sure, he’d wake up in Punxatawney again, but he’d get a good part of the day and evening back home or elsewhere. Unless there was some physical law that was just going to keep him there no matter what.
Again, a minor quibble and something I think about after watching this film so many times. At least once a year. Maybe I’ve watched it too often. 
Good evening. Tonight on ‘It’s the Mind’, we examine the phenomenon of déjà vu. That strange feeling we sometimes get that we’ve lived through something before, that what is happening now has already happened.
This is one of my favorite movies, and I’ve seen it a few times. I’ve thought of what you said, and I agree. I think the creative team decided to to ignore that tack because it would soak up time they could use in a more funny manner. If I want to fanboy-solve it, I say that he tried that, but something even more boring and frustrating happened on his trip. It also prevented him from learning anything about the place he was going to return to, so it was a waste of time.
Has anyone else noticed that the co-writer/originator of the (very much changed) script has almost no other IMDB credits? I wonder if he’s teaching creative writing at a high school now.
Also: you know you’ve really succeeded when football announcers use your movie as a shorthand reference for a situation: “Johnson must be beginning to think it’s Groundhog Day with all these short hook patterns into his zone.”
It has certainly become enshrined in pop culture: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Groundhog_Day_(film)#Legacy
“So, did you turn pro with that bellybutton thing, Ned, or…”
That hunted and confused look on Phil when he finds the restored pencil on the morning of the third day is classic acting.
“Well, it’s Groundhog Day… again…”
Just that little pause, and the almost-panicky look in his eyes as he stares into the camera, is another good example. Murray just nails this part.
No, I don’t buy that. When he eventually does get quite good but is still going to her for lessons, she says: “Not bad, Mr. Connors. You say this is your first lesson?” “Yes, but my parents were piano movers.” He obviously sticks to the story that he’s a beginner. And at the groundhog dinner, she gives him a little private “I’m so proud” before she takes the stage herself. I think she really believed she taught him everything in a day.
I remember when President Clinton had Arafat and the Israeli premier for talks in the US. Every day ended up frustratingly the same, with no progress, and Clinton reportedly made a crack that it was starting to feel like “Groundhog Day.” Arafat had never heard of the movie and did not know what he meant. So Clinton tried explaining it, but Arafat just could not understand the joke. That was in the news, as told by Clinton’s aides.
We just watched it again tonight, and I think I may have discovered the catalyst. I can’t believe I’ve not noticed this before. Ned Ryerson, who, like all insurance agents, must be evil, hexes him for not throwing some insurance business his way. When he tells Phil, “Watch out for that first step. It’s a doozy,” he gives a witchly cackle and points at him. Obviously a hidden meaning in that message and a hex in that point. Then at the groundhog dinner, it’s revealed Phil has purchased all sorts of insurance, and Ned visibly lays on hands, taking the spell off. Voila! The next day is February 3.
I love the little things Murray does. Like “blinks” with his hands when he steps in front of the vehicle in a suicide bid. Or when he doesn’t just stand there at the door of the piano teacher, but rather looks in the door window, checks the mailbox.
“Well, it’s Groundhog Day… again…”
You want a prediction about the weather, you’re asking the wrong Phil. I’ll give you a winter prediction: It’s gonna be cold, it’s gonna be grey, and it’s gonna last you for the rest of your life. Sort of like living in West Texas.
Good evening. Tonight on ‘It’s the Mind’, we examine the phenomenon of déjà vu. That strange feeling we sometimes get that we’ve lived through something before, that what is happening now has already happened.
Siam Siam, I believe you have it wrong. The real catalyst is the bartender. Think about it. This guy has had to spend his entire life as the only black man in whitebred, lovely but hickish Punxatawney. Then this arrogant jerk of a ‘weather’ man comes in and insults his town and his bar skills. He does the only thing he could do, sentence Phil to a lifetime stuck in Punxatawney.
Over the years he continues to see Phil as a sleazeball, using his bar and a pack of lies to pickup women. However he cannot speak to Phil for fear that he won’t say the same thing the same way. Phil is left to his own devices to change.
By the end of the movie, Phil loves Punxstawney. He has truley made a transformation. He’s a better person and loves everyone in town. Not only that, but Phil has livened up his bar with some decent jazz piano instead of the interminable dross of Polka that had been playing. Realizing Phil has learned his lesson, he let’s him go. Sealing the deal is that he now has his next victim, a man who was using his bar and a pack of lies to pickup a woman, a man who pretended to leave a big tip to impress her only to pull all but a dollar back. That man was Larry the camera-man.
I’m not sure how the bartender did it, though. He probably slipped something into Phil’s first drink (Can I get one of these with some booze in it.) then again when he was on stage at the party.
There are a couple of other black folks on the town square during the celebrations, too, FWIW.