the groundhog day project

(A note, in case you are just joining the Groundhog Day Project : the phase 2 description above suggests that I am watching one movie seven times, but for this month, I am not doing that. Unless you count slasher films as one long film split into weird little chapters… which isn’t that bad a way to think about it, I suppose. But, even then, it is not seven times but 33 times this month .) Saul Bass opening titles—always a good thing. A specific date and time as we come into the window to find Marion Crane and her lover. The Final Girl was not a thing yet, but this movie lets us know first thing that this seeming lead character is not a virgin. There’s no hint of a killer and already some moral grey areas. The film, with its Saul Bass opening credits, it’s black and white (when color was an option, mind you), and the question of respectability (and morality) in the relationship on display, seems like a setup for a film noir more than the horror films that would borrow tropes from i...

A note on life of late as the movie begins (the movie being Peeping Tom ): Actually, let me interrupt before I even get not going—opening shot with the backlot-looking city was awesome. I’d forgotten, also, this was a British film. Considering where I’m going with this blog this month, I rather like the immediate use of the first-person POV through the camera... But, I wasn’t talking about the film yet. Or where I’m going with this blog this month, either. On life: It’s Monday and that’s going to be a particularly busy day for me for the next 10 weeks (i.e. fall quarter). Up by 6:30AM, left the house at 7:00, taught class 8:00 to 9:40 and 9:50 to 11:30... The replay of the murder we’ve just witnessed being filmed over the opening credits is awesome, by the way. This is the first film I’ll be watching for this blog (it’s own entry, I mean) that I wasn’t 100% sure I’d actually seen before. It looks familiar, but also... not . The overall visual quality here is fascinating me, the ...

Groundhog Day is not a romantic comedy. And, it’s not just me who thinks so. Dowd and Pallotta (2000)—you know, my go to academic quality romantic comedy source—specifically excluded it from their coding. They explain: Our principle genre-relevant rule is that romance must be central to the story depicted in the film and not a secondary aspect... If the film is a mixed-genre effort—and adventure story, for example, in which two of the characters become romantically attached, such as was the case with Romancing the Stone [—I must interrupt this extended quotation to say that I love the movie Romancing the Stone and actually have it on the potential list of movies to watch for this blog at some point. Perhaps an adventure month, do a little Romancing the Stone , some Raiders of the Lost Ark and some... ah, there’s the rub. There aren’t a lot of adventure movies anymore. Maybe High Road to China , although I barely remember that from when I was a kid and maybe it doesn’t qualify....

Some stray observations: On the HOTEL sign outside Vivian’s building, only the H and O are lit up. This seems both too on-the-nose and over-the-top. Kit’s and Vivian’s motto is “We say who, we say when, we say how much.” Later when Vivian is mad at Edward, she forgets that last part. She says, “I say who. I say when.” And then, she repeats, “I say who.” Despite the opening line of the film, that it is “all about money,” it’s no longer about money. She doesn’t even take the money, though she does demand it, when she leaves then. And, ultimately, after she has been paid and is back home, she gives some—not sure how much—of the money to Kit. I’ve written about the major differences between $3,000 and Pretty Woman before, but not a lot of the details. For example, this was Lawton’s second produced screenplay. It reads, especially early on, like someone’s first time writing a screenplay; there’s bit too much exposition setting the scene. Looking at the script again right now, I thou...

When Harry Met Sally... , Moonstruck , The Mirror Has Two Faces , Pretty Woman —each one involves men and women, regardless of when in the process they have sex, getting to know each other by talking, by exchanging information. I’ve already written about Altman and Taylor’s social penetration theory ... (Sidenote: maybe the stated theme (per yesterday ‘s discussion, is Philip’s line, “You’re gonna get lost in the dark.” Vivian lives in the dark. She wakes up in the evening, works all night, and that’s before we deal with the metaphorical darkness inherent in her job. And, Edward, he works in the darkness of corporate raiding, making a living off the suffering of others. And, I’ve said before, they are both lost before the events of the film.) Anyway, where was I? I think it’s nice that even the hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold setup revolves not around the sex but around conversation and other, non-sexual interaction. Edward and Vivian definitely get into Altman and Taylor’s exploratory ...

“You know what they say—it’s all about money.” That’s the opening line of Pretty Woman . And, arguably, the whole point to the existence of this movie—and I don’t mean from the perspective of the writer, the director, the stars, any of the filmmakers, really—is to make money. That’s why we get the unrealistic ending, because that will draw the biggest audience. Yeah, that’s me being cynical again. But, so what? I’m about to be nice to this movie for a change. See, I don’t think the movie itself is telling us that “it’s all about money.” Even though Dyer (2010) suggests “In the first few pages of your screenplay, one of the characters should state the story’s theme out loud.” I think the movie ultimately rejects the idea that it’s all about money. Money loses out to love, even though money is the means to that end. Vivian wouldn’t be there if not for Edward’s $3,000. She wouldn’t have the whole Cinderella thing going on if not for more of his money. She is romanced as much by the clot...

Pretty Woman begins with a magic trick. And, not long after, there’s an amusing bit on the street—tourists taking pictures of a dead body. There is more here than lazy romance. And the movie does paint a picture of a city (or cities, rather) divided on class/money lines... as I’ve already said, but with a more negative tone, the picture presents us a world that creates people like Edward and Vivian. (Sidenote: There are a lot of horses in Edward’s penthouse, statutes, paintings. Combine those with the polo match (not a part of the original script), not to mention Vivian’s dream about a being saved by a knight on horseback, and the running motif seems like it might mean something. But, the most obvious meaning—linking horses to the whole class thing—doesn’t really add anything new to the film.) Both Richard Gere and Julia Roberts are charming here. Hector Elizondo does a great job with very little material, and handful of lines but mostly just a few looks—disapproving at first, th...

Cinderella ‘s kind of a horrible story, too. The idea that love can be found in one dance, that the prince can rescue the girl from a bad situation... except, love can feel like a rescue, I suppose. And, it’s loss can feel like... whatever the opposite is. I saw The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them today and it’s a sad story that invokes the shadow left when love (and romance) are gone. It’s an awesome film, a tragic film with the vaguest sense of hope in the end. Comparatively, Pretty Woman is a slight little thing, hardly worth another thousand negative words... Instead, I offer this. There’s a simple reason that we buy into the “romance” on display in Pretty Woman . Money and the things it can buy are important to us in this country, in the whole of the Western World, to be sure. Where other romantic comedies focus in on the other items on Dowd and Pallotta’s (2000) “norms,” Pretty Woman recognizes that all love is a transaction. Recall my discussion of social penetration ...

I want to like this movie. I mean, I’m not a fan of modern capitalism, and, as I said yesterday it’s almost a critique of a system that creates sharks like Edward and whores like Vivian. (And, that’s too nice to Edward. In $3,000 , Kross asks Edward, “You want me to recommend to the Board that my company be raped by a man like you?” (p. 63). It’s almost a critique. But, instead of jumping into the plotline, it skirts along the top of it into a fairy tale. Vivian is no longer a seasoned prostitute with a crack problem barely looking after the more vulnerable Kit. Instead, she’s new to the oldest profession, and judging by a brief shot of some photos in her apartment at the beginning of the film, she’s doing this because of a guy; I’m guessing her broke up with her since she’s either ripped or scratched his face out of the photos we see. It’s a cheap way of making her a little less dirty. The more expensive way, so to speak, was to cut the opening scene from Lawton’s original in wh...

Now, let’s get out of New York. And, be a little less light and happy. The kind of movie that starts with two prostitutes buying some crack on the streets of Hollywood... unless Disney gets their hands on the script and twists it around and around until not only does the lead female—still a prostitute, mind you—no longer has a drug problem and the rich guy picking her up is just asking for directions, not prowling for a replacement girlfriend for the week. What used to be a rather despicable guy picking up a hooker who lists her likes as “hot baths and white rocks,” becomes a meet-cute instead. It’s a little sad. You’d know the movie as Pretty Woman . The original script by Jonathan Lawton was called $3,000 . $3,000 has a fairly straightforward plot, making a serious effort toward a critique of 1980s American capitalism. Pretty Woman drains so much of the darker... I would say realism, but $3,000 is just slight enough that it’s hard to suggest it has real depth. But, whatever...

If Americans can be divorced for ‘incompatibility of temper’, I cannot conceive why they are not all divorced. I have known many happy marriages, but never a compatible one. The whole aim of marriage is to fight through and survive the instant when incompatibility becomes unquestionable. For a man and a woman, as such, are incompatible. – G. K. Chesterton In his review of The Mirror Has Two Faces , Roger Ebert writes, “It's rare to find a film that deals intelligently with issues of sex and love, instead of just assuming that everyone on the screen and in the audience shares the same popular culture assumptions.” While he may be correct on the first point, I think he’s wrong on the second. I think The Mirror Has Two Faces operates on the very same assumptions that most any romantic comedy does: that we all want romance, that men and women are supposed to couple and copulate and consummate marriage. Plus, remember (as I’ve already referenced them a couple times) Dowd and Pallott...

I want to get into talking about Deborah Tannen’s Genderlect Styles , but it’s hard to map it onto The Mirror Has Two Faces . Gregory is hardly the stereotypical male that Tannen talks about, nor really is Rose the stereotypical female that Tannen talks about. Tannen’s male wants status—meaning he wants the score that comes from having bedded a woman. Gregory is far from that, wanting anything but the score. Tannen’s female wants connection, but Rose gets the connection and wants more... Arguably. The question is—and this may just be a reiteration of my attempt to define the successful relationship the other day —does a connection include or preclude sex? Personally, I think it’s inclusive, and The Mirror Has Two Faces seems to support that idea even if Gregory and Rose have still not consummated their relationship at the end of the film. When Harry Met Sally... comes to the same conclusion (including the sex) thought it approaches it from a more stereotypical direction; that i...

“In coming up...” A Freudian slip about six minutes into the film. Candy has sat down at the library presentation Greg’s giving about his book. Gregory is flustered by her presence and, more specifically, her legs. He quickly corrects his wording to “In summing up” but the damage is done. A movie that deliberately avoids actual sex, The Mirror Has Two Faces is understandably full of references to sex, suggestive language... double entendre and innuendo. Like, after Claire’s wedding, Rose tells Doris, “I’d like it if someone knew me...” And she pauses just long enough, for me, that I think biblically, before she gets more literal. (Sidenote: I just wondered aloud if Gregory just picked Rose because she taught at the same school he does. And, I also asked where he put his ad. And, Saer says from nearby, “Stop Groundhog Day ing this.”) Gregory invites Rose up to his apartment. Not, of course, for sex. “Not unless you’re planning to use it on something else other than his neck.” Do...

The Mirror Has Two Faces includes numerous mirrors. Shocker, I know. The first mirror: Rose’s opening scene. She pulls a Sno Ball out of the drawer, takes a big bite, and in the mirror we see her with a facial mask on. Very cinematically feminine, snacking on junkfood stashed secretly—reminds me of Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson in The Closer , though that came later—while readying for a date. But , then there’s a baseball right by her hand, the Sno Ball juxtaposed with the baseball, two sides of her character framed within the mirror. And, she has to then choose between those two things a moment later, and she chooses to cancel her date (feigning illness) to watch the baseball game. It’s not a literal mirror, but when Candy leaves Gregory’s apartment, he asks if he can call her. Her response: “What for?” When Rose leaves him (the second time), he also asks if he can call her ? Her response: “What for?” Another mirror: before Claire’s wedding, Rose in the pink bridesmaid dress, ...