The scene comes about halfway through the movie, at the point where we’re not really sure whether Phil (Bill Murray) should get the girl or not.

He wines and dines Rita (Andie MacDowell), listening for all the right clues to make all the right moves. Of course, time itself helps the wooing process. Phil lives the same day over and over again, providing ample time to dissect little likes and dislikes.

Phil soon compiles a rough enough sketch to go in for the kill, the kiss … and more. The slap ends that attempt, but not before planting the seed of promise in Phil’s head – “This could happen.”

The following day (the new day, same as the old day), he attempts to dance the same steps and slay with the same words. His laughs are too fake, too staged. He knows one possibility, but not the possibility of subtle change. The slap comes sooner and harder.

“Groundhog Day” (1991) offers plenty of these moments, full of surface humor and philosophical undercurrents. They pay off in Murray’s everyman comedy – a comedic philosophy full of confidence and the knowledge that cynicism can create memorable laughs. And they pay off in meaning, creating the lasting images of a non-religious movie full of heartwarming spirituality.

The new special-edition DVD realizes this importance and almost gives the film the full treatment. Actually, the DVD (including a 25-minute feature and audio commentary by director Harold Ramis) does all it can for a comedy with greater intentions. The missing link? Murray never contributes to these sorts of things, preferring to create one of the oddest yet most endearing lives of any modern-day comedian. We’re stuck laughing at great off-the-cuff outtakes, the absence of anything else forcing us to settle for his timeless performance.

The story of a television weatherman’s redemption boils down quite simply due to two key aspects. One, the plot devices allow us to see each character with the comfort of knowing how he or she should act. And two, the movie never explains just what causes this temporal time loop in which Phil is trapped. The special features just ooze with glee from this dangling question.

But the simplicity belies the complicated nature of change, or at least as much change as a Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney, Penn., can allow. Phil’s change from a romantic leech to humanistic lover (all while chasing after his producer’s heart) arrives after many realistic developments. For pseudo-intellectuals looking for fodder, the movie asks, “What would you do with no tomorrow?” Odds are, Murray’s Phil tries it.

That’s a credit to screenwriters Ramis and Danny Rubin. The film doesn’t take its audience for granted, and reaches for a sophisticated sense of humor (at least for a film based in Pennsylvania and filmed in Woodstock, Ill.). One of the true DVD jaw-droppers, at least for fans of the film, comes in the revelation that the film originally began in the middle. The art-house technique would have introduced the omnipotent weatherman, then slowly explained his situation.

Although intriguing, the filmmakers knew the story didn’t need a gimmick. “Groundhog Day,” one day, will be looked at by film historians as a true example of comedy as art. That respect can’t come fast enough, although every airing of “I’ve Got You, Babe” by Sonny and Cher is a step in the right direction.