Groundhog Day may be the most entertaining musical ever, in which the score was almost entirely irrelevant, except as a mood setter that happens to utilize lyrics as well as music. I’ll explain that a little later.
He plays Phil Connors, cynical but popular weatherman, who is sent to cover Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney Pennsylvania, this year as he does every second day of February, every year. Feeling he’s above it all, he doesn’t much care if the groundhog sees his shadow or not; nor does he feel any connection to the good ol’ simple, unsophisticated folk of the town. Rude to them, dismissive of his coworkers, he wants nothing more than to file the story and get the hell out. And indeed, he does at least file the story. As to getting out, snowstorm conditions make traveling impossible, so he has to spend the night there…again. And when he wakes up the next morning, it isn’t the next morning. It’s the same morning. The morning of February 2. And he will keep reliving and reliving the day, the only variations in the routine determined by how he chooses to react to the same old situations and stimuli. We in the audience, of course, know that the universe is tacitly giving Phil a lesson in humanism, and that until he sufficiently nurtures and masters his own, within this repeated loop, he will never break free. But he doesn’t know it. And the fun is in watching him come to grips with his fate. And become selfless, not because there’s an endgame, since he doesn’t know there is one, but because that’s the only thing left to do, to make survival bearable.