— THE GROUNDHOG SEES SPOILERS (though if you haven't already seen it, do yourself a big favor, crawl out from under that rock, and correct that oversight) —
After watching this exemplary product of the Murray-Ramis factory last night, I got to thinking, and I came to the conclusion that Bill Murray's character, Phil Connors, not only becomes a much better person by the end of the film (hardly a tough job, though, considering how he starts out), but in fact becomes, literally, the best person, a feat only possible thanks to the cosmic phenomenon trapping him for most of the story.
Once Phil finds himself cursed to relive February 2 over and over and over and over again, he passes through a number of psychological and emotional phases: he doesn't believe it; upon accepting it, he takes advantage of it for personal gain (robbing the armored car, seducing Nancy, etc.); growing bored of this, he acts dangerously and destructively; later, despair overtakes him, and he commits suicide countless times in hopes of escape, but never ceases waking up at 6 a.m. to Sonny and Cher on the radio. After having gotten everything he possibly could for himself out of this phenomenon, he starts using it for others. At first, of course, this manifests itself rather selfishly as well, in his attempts to win Rita's heart by learning everything he can about her to become her ideal man. (It's also possible that he senses that she might somehow be the key to lifting his curse.) Over time, he learns to say all the right things and make all the right moves, but even after getting her to fall for him his life is always still reset back to the previous morning.
Eventually, Phil begins using his virtually infinite knowledge of that February 2 genuinely to help and better the good people of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. He assists those in need and strives to brighten their day. Not only does he do this, but he does it knowing that any good he does will be undone, forgotten, and in need of doing once again the next time he wakes up: the boy will fall out of the tree again, the old women in the car will need their tire changed again, he'll have to buy all those insurance policies from Ned Ryerson again, he'll have to deliver his touching speech for the newscast again (while never coming across like he's saying it for the umpteenth time), his brother will need to be saved from choking again, the homeless man will need a good last meal and a warm place to die again. He knows what he's done—and how many times he's had to do it—but as far as the rest of the world is concerned, it's like it never happened.
It's estimated that Phil spends years, decades, possibly even millennia, reliving that same day, with nothing he does ever letting him see another day or letting any of this actions have any consequence for more than a matter of hours. After that long without change, and without any sign that will anything ever will change, I can't help but feel that Phil eventually just gave up trying to get out of his Groundhog Day time loop and accepted that he would live on eternally, stuck on the same day in the same town with the same people, without end. Nevertheless, despite the unimaginable frustration of knowing nothing he did, no matter how good, how selfless, would have any consequence, he continues to do good. The good he does is good in the purest sense: done not to benefit himself, or even to benefit others, but entirely and absolutely for its own sake, because it's good.
Of course, this level of benevolence is possible only because, unlike the rest of us, Phil's actions have been stripped of all but a few hours' consequence. Eventually, his life becomes a working embodiment of that ideal of many of the Indian philosophies, of acting without any desire or expectation, without any thought of outcome. Thus, he has achieved naturally, thanks to his unique circumstances, what the greatest sages could achieve only through the greatest effort and determination, the extinction of all desire and the willingness to do good—and moreover, to do it endlessly—with no consideration other than the good itself. When he finally wakes up beside Rita at the end, he hasn't just reached February 3; he's reached nirvana.
