Groundhog Day and the Meaning of Life

Nearly every Groundhog Day, I make it my business to watch Harold Ramis's immortal 1990s romantic comedy classic of the same name. And every time I see the film, I enjoy it a little bit more.

For the unfortunate few who have not yet had the pleasure, the movie weaves the epic tale of Pittsburgh weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray, at his sardonic best) who is ready to sleepwalk through his annual trip to Punxsutawny, Pennsylvania for the town's hokey Groundhog Day festivities. After going through the motions, a snowstorm traps him, his producer Rita (the angelic and ageless Andie Macdowell) and his cameraman (character actor Chris Elliott). The following morning, Phil realizes that he is not only stuck in Punxsutawny, but stuck in the same 24-hour period that he just lived through.

The movie kicks into high gear when Phil starts exploring the options associated with eternally reliving the same day. At first he lives recklessly and exorbitantly--eating whatever he wants, stealing money, breaking laws, killing himself repeatedly, using his situation to creatively pick up women and attempting to manipulatively win Rita's affection.

After that lifestyle drives him to the brink of insanity and despair, however, we watch as sarcastic self-centered Phil begins to melt into sarcastic redeemed Phil. Those cyclical 24 hours--seemingly devoid of consequence by nature of his situation--felt even more inconsequential when spent on self-fulfillment and momentary thrill-seeking.

When Phil begins to use his endless string of days to better himself and the lives of those around him, the gray Punxsutawny winter begins to feel a bit warmer. Phil learns to play piano, read French poetry and carve ice sculptures. Better still, he spends his day(s) running around town on do-gooder "errands" that end up saving lives, flat tires and marriages.

Phil's fundamental attitude on life has shifted and--as in any romantic comedy worth its salt--this helps him win the woman of his dreams. To me, at least, this doesn't come across as unrealistic. While Rita correctly wrote Phil off as a jerk on February 1, he is a refreshingly changed man on February 2.

When I've watched this movie in the past, I've always taken it at face value: Phil had all the time in the world to improve himself and finally broke the spell when he learned to spend his life putting others before himself. In learning to do that, he got what he wanted all along.

But after this viewing I realized two things:
1. Groundhog Day is a sheer masterpiece and my vote for best romantic comedy of the 1990s. Sorry, Tom Hanks.

2. Phil isn't the only one with lots of time to improve himself. We may not be forced to repeat the same 24-hour period, but a lot of us live as if we are. The calendar moves forward, but our perspective remains unchanged.

How many days will you spend being annoyed by encounters with Ned Ryerson? How much time will you waste trying to convince that girl she's the one for you? How many Groundhog Days must pass before you realize that most of your all-encompassing concerns, needs and worries are about as important as whether or not Punxsutawny Phil sees his shadow?

I'm asking myself these questions right now. And it's time to start using my time a bit more wisely. This could be the end of a very long day.

A Scrooge-Like Perspective on 3D Movies

After stuffing ourselves with the traditional Thanksgiving dinner, my family has developed the tradition of dragging ourselves out of our food coma and heading to our local cinema to see the newest Christmas movie release. This has worked out well some years (The Polar Express was fantastic in IMAX) and not so well in other years (avoid Christmas with the Kranks at all costs). When Hollywood doesn't provide us with any halfway decent-looking options, we just stay home and watch Elf. (Instant classic. There's no denying it.)

This year we went to see Disney's A Christmas Carol in Disney Digital 3D. Yes, that is the full title. Trust me. When I called for showtimes, Fandango told me to "try again later" and hung up on me three times before I got the title right.

Before I give my take on the movie, I should probably come clean: I pretty much hate 3D movies. I didn't always hate them, but it's gotten to the point where 3D movies are being released almost every week and it's simply unnecessary. We saw trailers for four upcoming animated movies and three of them will be in 3D. WHY?! Is this the 1980s? 3D movie technology hasn't improved much since then and you're still relying on the quality of a cheap pair of used glasses to give you an effective movie-going experience. A good film will transport me to another world in two dimensions. Wearing glasses actually hinders the immersion effect.

So I knew we wouldn't be seeing Disney's A Christmas Carol in Disney Digital 3D in Disney Digital 3D. Fortunately, Disney released the movie shortly after Halloween, so it's not exactly the king of the cineplex anymore and it was easy to find a non-3D showtime.

Overall, the movie itself is definitely worth seeing. While he's no Michael Caine (The Muppet Christmas Carol is my vote for all-time best), Jim Carrey makes a pretty good Scrooge and the motion capture animation is both eye-catching and effective. Unfortunately, the 3D manages to disrupt my viewing of the movie even though I didn't see it in 3D. This is because rather than making a good movie and enhancing certain visual elements with 3D effects, director Robert Zemeckis goes out of his way to include cheap 3D tricks that are sometimes laughable and always unnecessary.

Does anyone remember the chapter in Dickens' immortal classic where Ebenezer Scrooge is being chased by a ghostly horse-drawn carriage, shrinks down to the size of a mouse and runs around the streets of London screaming? Me neither. In fact, it seems like Scrooge spends half the movie flying through the air. Now I'm all for artistic interpretation, but not when it's done solely so I can have 3D icicles flying in my face.

When a movie is crafted so specifically to be viewed in 3D that some scenes look ridiculous in 2D, that's a clear sign that you're serving the wrong master. Nevertheless, it is a decent Christmas movie and will get you in the holiday spirit, despite any three-dimensional shortcomings.

And at least Vince Vaughn isn't involved. After Fred Claus and Four Christmases, the biggest item on my Christmas wish list is a moratorium on his involvement in future Christmas flicks.

Celebrity Redemption Through Comedy

It's incredible how easy it is for celebrities to reinvent themselves after they do something stupid that alienates their fans and the general public. And it appears that Jimmy Kimmel is more than willing to help scandal-smeared stars rehab their image with an effective dose of self-parodying comedy. Fortunately for us, the result actually is pretty hilarious.

First Jimmy Kimmel helps us forget all about Tom Cruise's crazy scientology documentary.


Then it gets even better. Remember when Mel Gibson got drunk and went on an anti-Semitic tirade? Nope! And you won't either, after you watch this inspired movie trailer.


This is truly funny stuff, but these videos also help you (and the celebrities) forgive and forget their troubles. If only it were that easy for the rest of us...

What's So Wonderful About It's A Wonderful Life?

Answer: Everything.

I'm not exactly sure when it was that I realized It's A Wonderful Life is my all-time favorite movie (Christmas or not). For a long time I thought it was too difficult to make such a distinction and--to be completely honest--Casablanca jockeys for the spot when it's not the Christmas season.

But there's really no contest.

I saw the film three times in the past few weeks and also attended a wonderful (tee hee!) 1940s-style radio play adaptation performed by the American Theater Company. I have the movie memorized to the point that I was talking along with it on the Christmas Eve TV broadcast and annoying my family with my fun new habit of quoting IAWL movie lines at appropriate times in daily life and conversation. On top of all that, I would gladly watch it again right now. There is no such thing as getting sick of this movie and I swear I don't need a CAT scan.

So why do I love it so much? Well, let me first state my firm belief that despite having a happy ending and being directed by Frank Capra, the movie is not a sickeningly sweet piece of "Capracorn" as so many critics have claimed. The first half hour alone deals with issues of alcoholism, child abuse, death and financial insecurity. What is "feel-good" about any of those topics?

I would argue that IAWL is actually a very realistic portrayal of the ups and downs of human life. Although it's just a bit over two hours long, the film seems a lot longer. Thanks to excellent pacing, the ensemble cast and the astounding acting of Jimmy Stewart, I feel like I'm getting to know every aspect of George Bailey and the inhabitants of Bedford Falls. This obviously makes the ending even more effective, but not overly schmaltzy. I seem to tear up earlier and earlier every time I watch the movie and it's because the plot is so engaging and the characters are so true-to-life--not because Frank Capra tied everything up into a happy bow in the final scene.

As the movie rolls on, you can feel George's frustration building and Potter's greed simmering. You can appreciate Clarence's innocence and Mary's love for her husband. When George enters his Clarence-induced alternate reality, I always find myself mentally expounding on the less obvious impact that George's life has had on the denizens of Bedford Falls/Pottersville. For example, cabdriver Ernie Bishop mentions that he is separated from his wife and kid. One can infer that George's work through the Building and Loan to help Ernie buy a house might have saved his marriage. Few other movies get me thinking this much.

And I'm not alone. Well aware of my affinity for the flick, several friends sent me a good New York Times article that sardonically reexamines several aspects of the film and raises a few valid-if-nit-picking points, but ultimately concludes that it is still a fantastic cinematic experience.

I'd actually love to hear from the haters. What are the grounds for disliking this movie? I defy anyone with half a heart to watch it and not get choked up when Harry Bailey raises a toast in the final scene and says, "To my big brother George, the richest man in town."

We are all George Bailey and the movie lets us empathize with his emotional baggage, even if Mr. Gower didn't buy us a big suitcase to keep it in. Maybe that's why the ending is too sweet for some people. Whatever they're going through, they can't see anyone raising the toast for them and they're still stuck on the bridge in the snow, waiting for salvation from Clarence. Well, for me, the movie serves as an annual reminder to get off my metaphorical bridge and appreciate the little things I couldn't see before that make life so wonderful. It's a pretty great way to start the new year.

New Site Discovery: Covering the Mouse

For me, the world of RSS feeds is a vicious cycle of unread information. I'm always finding new sites that I immediately subscribe to, but every time I log into my Google Reader, I'm taunted by the bold blue 1,000+, indicating that I have an impossible amount of catching up to do.

Nevertheless, I have found another cool Web site and I thought I would share it. This one comes from my brother, my family's avowed Disney fanatic.

The site is called Covering the Mouse and it features a new cover version of a Disney musical classic on an almost daily basis, so it's great feed reading material. The best part is that you can hear the entire song, and--if you know where to look in the site's source code--you can grab the file for future enjoyment.

Not all of the tracks are fantastic and some of them--like any cover version of a popular song--are only worth hearing to satisfy your morbid curiosity or because the recordings are so rare. Covering the Mouse is definitely worth a look though, and I found a few gems while trolling the site last night:

Chim-Chim-Cher-ee
from Mary Poppins
Performed by Louis Armstrong

Under the Sea
from The Little Mermaid
Performed by The Suburban Legends

Grim Grinning Ghosts
from The Haunted Mansion
Performed by Barenaked Ladies

The Nerds Are Running Hollywood

Examine the all-time top grossing films in the U.S. What do you notice?

13 of the current top 20 are either superhero, sci-fi or fantasy-related flicks. With the exception of the animated features and The Passion of the Christ, the most lucrative US films list is also a running list of every nerd's favorite movies. Coincidence?

This article posits that keeping the nerds happy is a surefire way for Hollywood studios to achieve box office gold:

Hollywood always wants to know if it's on the right track. Book adaptations and genre films are attractive propositions because studios know the in-built fan base will see the film and galvanise wider attendance. But the comic-book fans are a savvy crowd and, if Hollywood gets it wrong, poor early word can spread like wildfire. Ever since the cult website Ain't It Cool News damned 1997's Batman & Robin with negative advance reviews, there's been a potency to the musings of netizens. After all, who wants to fork out $250m in production and marketing costs only for a film to end up in the bargain bucket at the local video shop?

This summer is no exception to the rule of nerd domination with The Dark Knight, Iron Man and Indiana Jones rounding out the top three highest-grossing summer blockbusters.

The moral of the story: A movie that satisfies the nerds will most often satisfy the masses. Or maybe there are just a whole lot of nerds out there.

Darth Vader: From Super Villain to Comedic Powerhouse

This past weekend, I watched the original Star Wars movie for the first time in quite a while and came to a startling realization: Darth Vader has been completely neutered by pop culture.

Once a menacing and dangerous super villain who probably had fearful kids hiding their faces in 1970s movie theaters, the respiration-challenged cyborg has since become a perpetual punchline for the sardonic humorists who currently inhabit the main stage of American comedy. Not that I'm complaining or anything.


Darth's downfall is so all-encompassing that even a simple Google search yields a joke on the fifth result: Follow Darth Vader on Twitter! You would think there are enough Star Wars nerds out there with enough Internet savvy to have legitimate sites about Darth Vader's mythology and lineage show up in the top results on Google. Apparently not...

While I still love watching the original Star Wars trilogy, I must admit that the viewing experience has been somewhat altered by the new persona being grafted on to the trilogy's main villain through the power of video editing and a wicked sense of humor. It's just not easy to forget an interpretation like this:



At least Chad doesn't have to deal with this kind of humiliation.

The Internet, Hollywood Style

Last weekend, Chicago Tribune Internet critic Steve Johnson wrote an entertaining piece about the place of Internet technology at the movies. Johnson states that movies such as The Net (1995) have frequently relied on the Internet's vast and mysterious nature as a compelling (and convenient) plot device.

If [filmmakers are] smart, they understand that the murky technology that makes the Net function will let them get away with outlandish plotting. Few audience members will know enough, in the heat of a chase scene, to dispute the likelihood of Harrison Ford in "Firewall" rapidly downloading a bank's records database to an iPod. (Where is the pop-up message saying he first needs to update iTunes? What will happen to his daughter's playlists?)

His point is well-taken. It's a good thing Ford had the foresight to switch the iPod to hard drive mode, too.

In the interests of full disclosure, I used to be one of those people who bought whatever technology Hollywood was selling. When I first saw The Net, I didn't have access to a computer and had no clue what the Internet was all about. I do remember thinking that the movie seemed really cool and extremely realistic. Look what the bad guys did to her with computers! (always plural)

Back in the day, I was blown away by the mere presence of computer technology in a movie's plot line. The cinematic representation of "hacking into a system" or "downloading files" was enough to provoke a dizzy spell. When I saw Sneakers in 1992, I wanted a computer so badly that I went home and "hacked" my way into my Mom's electric typewriter, with a cardboard box for a monitor. I think I downloaded a lot of secret files that day, too. I was one heckuva tech-savvy spy.

By the time I saw Firewall in 2006, I was a bit more discerning. Although the film wasn't bad overall, the technology was often used as a laughable deus ex machina, as Johnson described above. Perhaps more upsetting than the unrealistic use of technology, however, was the disturbing appearance of Harrison Ford's expanding gut, which inconveniently pops out of the bottom of his shirt during a key fight scene. At least he was doing his own stunts, right? (Fortunately, he seems to have shed the paunch for the upcoming Indy flick.)

But back to the point. I would predict that a day will come when Web technology is so well-known and accessible that filmmakers won't be able to employ it as a plot device unless they adhere to the confines of technological reality. But I know that's not true. After all, everyone's been driving cars for quite some time now and Jason Bourne still didn't have to stop at any red lights.

Incidentally, I really miss that typewriter sometimes.

Indiana Jones and the Much-Anticipated Trailer

It's here! It's here!



Nothing spices up a Sunday night like finding out that the trailer for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull has finally been released! My little brother went to see The Spiderwick Chronicles on Friday and casually mentioned today that he had seen the trailer for the fourth Indiana Jones movie. Ho hum.

WHAT?! Foolish youth! He clearly didn't realize how long some of us have been waiting for legitimate cinematic proof that we are not dreaming and Indy really will be back on the big screen in three months. Well, now we have the trailer and it's just as glorious as I had hoped it would be. As I watched, I couldn't help but grin like an eight-year-old when I saw the fedora on the ground and heard the familiar strains of John Williams' epic soundtrack. It's pretty clear that this sequel isn't likely to disappoint. (Though I do hope they get the "Indy's an old man now" jokes out of the way early on in the film. I think there were three in the trailer alone...)

Since Indy's last appearance 19 years ago, the pop culture world has changed significantly and entire online communities live for the prompt dissemination of a mere rumor about the upcoming film, let alone a full-length trailer. To be more specific, Indy IV would be a success with no marketing campaign whatsoever. This article addresses that notion, citing the fact that the trailer went viral instantaneously after its Valentine's Day debut. (And what a great V-Day gift for single nerds! Spielberg sure knows his audience!)

But should this type of fan-driven advertising and exposure really be a surprise anymore? The proliferation and easy accessibility of online media has (d)evolved to the point where nearly seven million people will watch Charlie bite his brother's finger. It's a pretty safe bet that at least a few million would scan the Internet for the known quantity of Indiana Jones cracking his whip and stopping international do-badders with a witty one-liner and an elbow to the face.

OK, enough of this. Can I buy my ticket yet?

Once Serious, Now Hilarious

Although I had previously heard of Mystery Science Theater 3000, it wasn't until last week that I actually saw some clips of the show on YouTube and I am now thoroughly addicted. If you're like me and somehow completely missed it, this wickedly clever show ran on the Sci-Fi Channel for a decade with the premise of lampooning awful 1950s science fiction B-movies. The show's silhouetted hosts provide a hilarious running commentary while screening a film, mocking the characters and plot (or lack thereof).

MST3K also gives this treatment to self-righteous "instructional" videos from the same era. My current favorite revolves around the issue of cheating on a math test.

This approach to B-movie mockery reminds me of Svengoolie, whom I grew up watching on various local Chicago TV channels for the past couple decades. His show has a much more homemade feel to it, but he's just as clever. According to Wikipedia, the actor behind Svengoolie--Rich Koz--went to high school in Park Ridge and graduated from Northwestern! I always knew there was a reason I liked him...

On a somewhat related note, I recently discovered that the Internet Archive, in addition to being able to show you how ugly Web sites looked back in 1998, also has a vast collection of public domain multimedia. You can find the unaltered versions of all the PSA-type films that MST3K pokes fun at. It's amazing to me that these films were once created and screened in complete seriousness. Fortunately, the Internet Archive also allows you to download all of these films (Public domain, baby!) and people have subsequently uploaded their artistic mashup creations.

But sometimes no mashup or MST3K commentary is needed to make a video laughable. Such is the case with the following PSA, which was intended to be a commercial promoting awareness about the spread of venereal disease. Apparently someone thought that a bouncy theme song paired with a montage of shiny, happy 1970s people having fun would be a good way to hammer home the consequences of contracting a sexually transmitted disease. I apologize in advance if this song haunts your dreams tonight.

One more sleep 'til Christmas

There's nothing quite like Christmas Eve.

No matter how old I get, the night is always filled with a sense of anticipation and excitement that I simply don't feel at any other time of the year. Unlike previous years, when the excitement was fueled by a greedy pining for the stack of gifts I'd be plowing into the next morning, my Christmas Eve excitement is tempered with a sense of contentment. The month-long preparations have culminated in this night--the Christmas lights burn brightly outside, Bing Crosby gives musical voice to our White Christmas longings, It's A Wonderful Life is playing in the background and the whole family gathers around a Christmas Eve spread of shrimp, pierogies and other wondrous dishes. Cliche? Perhaps. Cheesy? A little (especially the pierogies!). But these have been the trappings of December 24th for as long as I can remember and I intend to one day follow the same formula for my own children.

Christmas Eve is also special because it's the one night of the year that my family actually engages in an ethnic tradition--the Polish use of oplatky Christmas wafers. (We pronounce oplatky as "oh-pwa-tech", but I'm not sure if that's completely accurate.) Churches distribute these wafers in the weeks leading up to Christmas. On Christmas Eve, each family member takes a wafer:

The father serves the wafer to each family member starting with the wife. He asks her forgiveness for any hurt he may have caused and invites reconciliation with a kiss. He proceeds to the rest of the family expressing his love and wishes for their well-being. The family often shares their oplatky with one another in the same manner.

We're not that formal about it--no one cares if Dad goes first--but we do spend a moment with each member of our family and say the things that we don't normally take the time to tell each other. It's a tradition that probably wouldn't fly in a lot of households and I'm grateful that my immediate family is close enough that we can continue to do this every year.

Wherever you are, I hope you are spending Christmas with the people you love, enjoying a fantastic Christmas dinner and (of course) watching It's A Wonderful Life tonight at 7 p.m. (CST) on NBC! :-)

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Which Scrooge is the Best Scrooge?

As an avid fan of all things Christmas, I consider myself to be fairly well-versed in the various incarnations of Dickens' immortal A Christmas Carol. As a child, it was my family's tradition (along with hundreds of other Chicago-area families) to see it performed onstage at the Goodman Theater. My Mom almost always managed to get front row seats, making the experience that much more enthralling and forever burning much of the Dickensian dialogue into my brain, which I can now unleash at will.

But the Goodman rendition is just one Scrooge among many. IMDB states that the old humbug has been portrayed in 68 movies from 1910 to 2009, when Jim Carrey will crawl out of whatever cave he's been hiding in and do the honors for a new Disney version. Bill Murray, Scrooge McDuck, Alistair Sim, and The Fonz are just a few of the disparate and desperate actors who have previously taken a turn.

A few years ago, Kelsey Grammer starred in a made-for-TV musical version, based on the Alan Menken musical that used to run at Madison Square Garden every year. The music is pretty good, but the supporting cast is composed almost entirely of current and former stars of NBC TV shows. Frasier Crane as Scrooge is just a bit too distracting for me and Jason Alexander as Marley makes it even worse. I half-expected Niles to show up as Scrooge's nephew ("Care for some sherry, Scrooge?") or for Jerry Seinfeld to cameo as Tiny Tim ("What's the deal with these crutches?"). I didn't mind the presence of Jennifer Love Hewitt so much, but that's beside the point.

Yes, nearly every version of A Christmas Carol has some shortcomings, but perfection has been reached once--by the Muppets. That's right. The greatest interpretation of Dickens' work is The Muppet Christmas Carol. I still remember seeing this one at the movie theater way back in 1992 and I've seen it almost every year since. To put it simply, Michael Caine is The Man. Even if he wasn't surrounded by Muppets, he would still be the best Ebenezer Scrooge ever to grace the silver screen. He's completely believable as a "tight-fisted hand at the grind stone" at the beginning of the movie and you can practically see his heart melting as he journeys to his past, present and future. Caine's Cockney accent alone is worth the price of admission, but his ability to act convincingly and affectingly alongside Kermit and Gonzo borders on Oscar-worthy.

And unlike A Very Frasier Christmas Carol, the supporting cast in this version only adds to the experience. It's Bunsen Honeydew! (as a charity collector) It's Statler and Waldorf! (as the Marley Brothers) It's Fozzie! (as--wait for it--Fezziwig) Best of all, it's hilarious in the classic Muppet style, while still surprisingly true to the literary language of Dickens' original text.

Jacob Marley: Why do you doubt your senses?

Ebenezer Scrooge: Because a little thing can effect them. A slight disorder of the stomach can make them cheat. You may be a bit of undigested beef, a blob of mustard, a crumb of cheese. Yes. There's more of gravy than of grave about you.

Robert Marley: More of gravy than of grave?

Jacob Marley: What a terrible pun. Where'd you get those jokes?

Robert Marley: Leave comedy to the bears, Ebenezer.

The true testament to this film's success, however, lies in the fact that it makes me weep like an old woman. To be honest, it seems that this is a common problem for me when I watch Christmas movies. It used to just be a few tears at the end of It's A Wonderful Life, but now my usually stoic sensibilities evaporate far too easily and last weekend I found myself once again choking up at the sight of a coughing cloth frog on crutches.

But don't take my word for it, go out and rent it (or order it on NetFlix, you crazy kids with your crazy technology). You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll sing along:

No Movie Is A Failure That Spawns Parodies

It goes without saying that It's A Wonderful Life is the greatest Christmas movie ever made. Some (myself included) might even argue that it's one of the greatest films of all time.

I might someday devote an entire post to explaining IAWL's undeniable appeal, but for now I'm going to focus on a fringe benefit of the movie's popularity: parodies. Any film that receives such a heralded place in popular culture must also endure comedic scrutiny. Join me now on a Yuletide YouTube tour of some creative tributes to my favorite Christmas flick.

SNL's IAWL Lost Ending
This one plays every year on the SNL Christmas special and it's my favorite. The skit is a who's who of awesome 1990s SNL cast members with Phil Hartman characteristically stealing the scene as Uncle Billy and an intro by William Shatner. I think this version of the ending ties things up nicely.



Behind the Scenes of IAWL
This fairly funny Flash animation offers a look back at the making of the movie.



IAWL: Stick Figure Theatre
One of the movie's best moments as you've never seen it before--performed by stick figures! The looseleaf background adds a lot.



IAWL in 30 seconds (and re-enacted by bunnies)
I can't embed this one, but click here to see exactly what the title promises.


IAWL: The Music Video?
I came across this 1980s musical gem last year. While not a parody per se, Fishbone gets major props for tersely summarizing the movie with lyrics such as "Got thrown out the bar/Then I wrecked my car/Got socked in the jaw/Cursed out by my Mama." You kind of just have to watch this one.



IAWL: The Original
If you want to watch the movie, it looks like the entire film is free for your viewing pleasure on Google Video right now. Just press play! Hee haw!

"Either he's dead or my watch has stopped."

With the hubbub surrounding the 30th anniversary of Elvis Presley's death last week, there has been little mention of the 30th anniversary of the death of another legendary entertainer--Julius Henry Marx.

Groucho Marx was one of the greatest--if not the greatest--comedians of all time and his influence continues to be seen in today's best comedic efforts. I dare say (and others dare say along with me) that there would be no Woody Allen, Jerry Seinfeld or Family Guy if not for the comedy of Groucho Marx and the Marx Brothers. I wrote a paper in college to that effect and, trust me, the similarities between Groucho and "modern" comedians are endless and obvious.

If you've never had the pleasure of viewing a Marx Brothers movie, you really need to fix that. Overall, the movies themselves are not Oscar-worthy. With paper-thin plots and a few annoyingly dated operatic musical numbers, these movies serve as complete vehicles for Groucho and his brothers' unique blend of sharp wit and outlandish physical comedy. The cream of the Marxist crop is the stretch of flicks from 1929's The Cocoanuts to 1937's A Day at the Races. Monkey Business, Duck Soup and A Night at the Opera are the standout gems.

I first saw these movies when I was 10 years old and I remember being overwhelmed by the cinematic mayhem. The films are a constant stream of one-liners and non-stop gags, so if you don't get one of the jokes, just wait three seconds for the next one. Groucho was my immediate favorite of the troupe and I admired his quick wit to no end. There's a big difference between being funny and being witty. Witty is much harder to do well.

A couple summers ago, I read a biography of Groucho that outlined his career and troubled personal life. It's a strange and recurring irony that the world's greatest artistic talents are often some of the world's most insecure and depressed individuals. They can bring laughter to so many others, but it's never enough to satisfy themselves.

The bio was also an interesting read because Hollywood was such a different place in Groucho's heyday. The Marx Brothers continued to make mediocre movies well past their prime, just because they needed to pay the bills. They were superstars, but that didn't have the same financial connotations that it does today. Fortunately for us, it doesn't really matter. Just pop in the DVD and laugh it up. Or just Google him and read some of his inspired quotes. This stuff is timeless.

"A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five."