Groundhog Days

I have a confession to make. I love watching films in the daytime. This began whilst I was a student; that escape from the bright and busy world into a darkened cinema to immerse myself in a story on the silver screen. And it has continued ever since. Indeed, it even intensified when I moved to Northern Ireland, for my office was a short walk from the front door of the Queen’s Film Theatre and I would regularly pop in. Under lockdown, I have been able to indulge myself as often as I wish, albeit on a smaller screen. Yesterday I saw a film that I hadn’t seen for decades and I was struck by the intriguing metaphor that it offered for these strange times. The film was Groundhog Day.

I expect you know the story. Egocentric and narcissistic TV weatherman, Phil (played by Bill Murray), is compelled to relive the same day over and over again in a small American town that he is desperate to escape from. The camera closes in repeatedly on the radio alarm-clock in his hotel room, which turns to 6 AM, and he wakes to the tune of ‘I Got You Babe’ by Sonny & Cher as the same day begins again. And despite whatever he does in each of these repeated days, every day begins and unfolds in exactly the same way. At first he is unbelieving; then he becomes exasperated. Later he exploits the situation by binge-eating and drinking, anti-social behaviour, seducing beautiful strangers and robbing a bank. After all of these excesses he ends up in despair. But even repeatedly committing suicide makes no difference. At 6 AM the radio alarm comes on and he wakes to the same day again.

Is this not somewhat like life under lockdown? I am stuck at home, like most others, and I have built up a routine that helps get me through the day. The outside world is threatening, with an unseen enemy, the coronavirus, that we fear we cannot escape from. Every day at 5 PM we are told what the deaths from the virus have been for that day. And the next day will be much the same. We have no idea when this lockdown will end, it could even intensify. Many people feel trapped. Our strategies for coping may include binge-eating and drinking or anti-social behaviour. We may develop depression. We may engage in self-harm. But, unlike the film, these actions will indeed have consequences for ourselves and for others.

Groundhog Day is a highly moral fable, for it is only when Phil actually changes and genuinely becomes a better person that he is able to escape the confines of his repeated reality and win the love of the fair maiden, Rita (played by Andie McDowell). Films are, of course, adult fairy-tales, and trade in archetypes that we know from reading the stories of Aesop or the Brothers Grimm as children.

But how does this moral fable translate to the coronavirus crisis? Well, there are plenty of unreconstructed Phil’s who have stockpiled guns and built electric fences around their homesteads. But, at the same time, there are many others who have gone out of their way to help people that are in need. For example, the many small community groups which have sprung up to help the old and vulnerable who are now stuck in their own homes; doing, amongst many other things, the shopping for the vulnerable and delivering it to their front door. The nub being that when we are less egocentric and more altruistic, when we reach out to help others, we actually end up helping ourselves too. Because giving something beyond ourselves does not just make a difference to the recipient, it also leaves the giver with a sense of purpose and of self-worth. In the end, these are qualities that the lockdown, by its very nature, seeks to take away from us.