Sarah & Bill Esper
A little over a year ago, the acting world lost a legend. The incomparable William Esper, eminent acting teacher and Meisner disciple, passed away at the age of 86. He was my teacher. He was also an inspiration to thousands of artists, and our community was left reeling.
In the tearful days that followed, I yearned for relief, desperate for any snippet of Bill’s wisdom in which to make things clear. As fate would have it, wisdom and relief would arrive on the anniversary of Sanford Meisner’s death – Feb. 2nd – in the unexpected form of a Bill Murray comedy.
Feb. 2nd is Groundhog Day. And on this cold winter day, small towns in Canada and the U.S. have the bizarre tradition of entrusting a rodent with meteorological predictions. (Seriously, look it up.) Consequently, it’s become tradition for TV stations to play the classic 1993 film, “Groundhog Day” in homage to the event.
I’ve always liked this film. Sure, the story of a TV weatherman inexplicably reliving the same day over and over again is bitingly funny, but it’s also filled with tenderness; the comedy grounded in truth. Phil Connors, (Murray) is a character imbued with pathos: the highs and lows he experiences while trapped in Punxutawney purgatory are nothing short of captivating. Throw in the complicated task of winning the lovely Rita (Andie MacDowell) on a 24-hour deadline, and it’s damn-near perfect.
As I watched the film, temporarily numbing my pain, my curiosity piqued… how many days exactly does Phil re-live?
I went searching for someone who had crunched the numbers, done the dirty work – and came across an article written by cinefile, Simon Gallagher. Gallagher gave himself the daunting task of calculating precisely how many days Phil Connors endures in Groundhog Day. After many repeated viewings (no doubt stuck in a Groundhog Day of his own making), he arrived at a number: 12,395 days. That’s 33 YEARS and 350 days. Puts kind of a tragic spin on the quirky comedy, doesn’t it?
Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day” | Columbia Pictures
Gallagher came to this meticulous total by adding up every day we see Phil endure, plus any day he specifically mentions, but we don’t see. He then deduced how long it would take Phil to learn the skills he displays by his final Groundhog Day, basing his reasoning on author Malcolm Gladwell’s “10,000 Hour Rule” from his book, “Outliers: The Story of Success.” In Outliers, Gladwell contends it takes roughly 10,000 hours of dedicated practice to achieve mastery in a field.
Little, Brown and Company | 2008
There have been other studies which don’t account for this standard of perfection, and those totals often come in around 10 years. Surely, there’s room for conjecture, but as director Harold Ramis remarked to Heeb Magazine, “It takes at least 10 years to get good at anything, and, allotting for the down time and misguided years he spent, it had to be more like 30 or 40 years.”
With this added layer of anguish to the film, I was suddenly able to view it in a new light: it became a master class in humanity, an impeccable example of what happens when we try to force an outcome vs. when we prepare, then give up, give in, give way.
“It takes at least 10 years to get good at anything, and, allotting for the downtime and misguided years he spent, it had to be more like 30 or 40 years.”
-Harold Ramis, director of Groundhog Day
Phil tries to manufacture moments of intimacy with Rita – and she sees right through it. What worked yesterday, doesn’t work today. She knows something is off as he recites his lines and goes through the motions of wooing her… this time it lacks spontaneity, and therefore authenticity. He’s trying too hard.
It’s not until Phil takes the time – really takes the time – to master his craft (whether it be ice sculpting, speaking french, or throwing cards into a hat) that he can truly let go. He becomes a better reporter, his research deepening his ability to tell stories. Quoting Chekhov, he enraptures his audience; allowing himself to be vulnerable, Rita opens her heart.
After nearly 34 years of RE-living Feb. 2nd, Phil is finally able to LIVE on Feb. 2nd. He realizes the past doesn’t matter. The future doesn’t matter. All that matters is THIS moment. And in this moment, he’s present, and happy. And the curse is lifted.
In a time of deep, personal sadness, my mentor spoke to me through this silly, heartfelt movie. Reminding me to be curious, and to craft. To demand a standard of perfection in all I do. To listen. To always work moment to moment. And when in doubt, REPEAT, REPEAT, REPEAT!
Quote pinned to the bulletin board at William Esper Studio.