On Being a Jackass
Infernal Repetition in Groundhog Day and My Now-Private Journal Entry from the other day*
The problem with infernal repetition, really, is its occulting of the actual causes of the repetition. In my case, the feeling of being put-upon by the universe occults the facts of my location in time and space (writing a dissertation). As you know, Bob, writing a dissertation has all sorts of isolating effects: not meeting other people b/c I'm spending all my time with my nose in front of a screen or in a book/article or the slope on which is propped a stare into the middle distance. Not having the time for the work a relationship requires. And finally not having the spare emotional bandwidth to actually fall in love with someone - I *already* have a relationship (I am obsessed with the diss, nous avons un amour fou).
Bitching about being single AGAIN in the form of a personals ad (i.e. there's another frame of meaning around the achey-breaky heartfeltiness, which is LULZ) goes some distance toward acknowledging that occulting, but not all the way. Which is, as you will see, partly because I'm still a jackass.
Now Harold Raimis, he's a very smart fellow, because the film literalizes that occulting. Here's my summary of the plot: some inexplicable thing has stopped time and repeated one single day forever because Phil is a jackass. When Phil stops being a jackass, time starts up again. That inexplicable thing that causes the repetition IS that Phil is a jackass. (Message/Moral of the Story: STOP BEING A JACKASS.)
Some terrible bits of the infernal remain. One, it never happens that the perfect conditions for emotional change obtain (which is what the film is trying to say it's depicting: here's the magical bubble where Phil can learn to stop being a jackass). It's never the case that ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING remains the same, except for maybe bodhisattvas. The infernal repetition is that such a thing DOESN'T EXIST.
But also (Two), it never happens that it's inexplicable that someone is a jackass. There is no essence, no internal wall against influence and environment. Thus Phil has long had the opportunity to act as his own influence or to acknowledge the influence of others. To some extent, it's Phil's fault that Phil remains a jackass.
It's kind of genius to have a romantic comedy include these bits of the infernal, because in both of these cases a person, well, I can walk away from the film both experiencing a profound enjoyment that my being put upon has been represented so humorously and kindly in film, and having the sneaking suspicion that I am a jackass and it's my own fault. It ain't purely comedy anymore - tragic flaws ftw. Not a date movie. It's for people who have long known each other. I wouldn't want to feel that jackassitude in front of someone I neither know nor (yet) trust.
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*Nothing worth seeing, except the title: GROUNDHOG DAY, THE PERSONALS AD: AGING SLACKER ASTOUNDED THAT THE WORLD CONTINUES SEEKS SAME
The problem with infernal repetition, really, is its occulting of the actual causes of the repetition. In my case, the feeling of being put-upon by the universe occults the facts of my location in time and space (writing a dissertation). As you know, Bob, writing a dissertation has all sorts of isolating effects: not meeting other people b/c I'm spending all my time with my nose in front of a screen or in a book/article or the slope on which is propped a stare into the middle distance. Not having the time for the work a relationship requires. And finally not having the spare emotional bandwidth to actually fall in love with someone - I *already* have a relationship (I am obsessed with the diss, nous avons un amour fou).
Bitching about being single AGAIN in the form of a personals ad (i.e. there's another frame of meaning around the achey-breaky heartfeltiness, which is LULZ) goes some distance toward acknowledging that occulting, but not all the way. Which is, as you will see, partly because I'm still a jackass.
Now Harold Raimis, he's a very smart fellow, because the film literalizes that occulting. Here's my summary of the plot: some inexplicable thing has stopped time and repeated one single day forever because Phil is a jackass. When Phil stops being a jackass, time starts up again. That inexplicable thing that causes the repetition IS that Phil is a jackass. (Message/Moral of the Story: STOP BEING A JACKASS.)
Some terrible bits of the infernal remain. One, it never happens that the perfect conditions for emotional change obtain (which is what the film is trying to say it's depicting: here's the magical bubble where Phil can learn to stop being a jackass). It's never the case that ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING remains the same, except for maybe bodhisattvas. The infernal repetition is that such a thing DOESN'T EXIST.
But also (Two), it never happens that it's inexplicable that someone is a jackass. There is no essence, no internal wall against influence and environment. Thus Phil has long had the opportunity to act as his own influence or to acknowledge the influence of others. To some extent, it's Phil's fault that Phil remains a jackass.
It's kind of genius to have a romantic comedy include these bits of the infernal, because in both of these cases a person, well, I can walk away from the film both experiencing a profound enjoyment that my being put upon has been represented so humorously and kindly in film, and having the sneaking suspicion that I am a jackass and it's my own fault. It ain't purely comedy anymore - tragic flaws ftw. Not a date movie. It's for people who have long known each other. I wouldn't want to feel that jackassitude in front of someone I neither know nor (yet) trust.
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*Nothing worth seeing, except the title: GROUNDHOG DAY, THE PERSONALS AD: AGING SLACKER ASTOUNDED THAT THE WORLD CONTINUES SEEKS SAME