These stories have been around for ages, sometimes accompanied by photographic or video evidence: Bill Murray showing up at random house parties, Bill Murray stealing someone's french fries while at a fast food restaurant, Bill Murray stepping into someone's engagement photos. It boils down to the sense that Bill Murray is a pretty cool guy. I'm not sure we needed an entire documentary about that, but it's interesting to pool the stories and hear the theories on why Bill Murray does what he does.
I used to watch Saturday Night Live with my parents. Looking back, I'm surprised I was allowed to, but I'm guessing my parents were banking on a lot of the jokes going over my head. Same with National Lampoon's Radio. But the one thing I picked out right quick when listening to National Lampoon's was Bill Murray's voice. It was very distinct to me. "There's a lobster loose!" I heard the car radio say, and I looked at my dad and said, "That sounds like Bill Murray." (It was.) Yet even though I grew up in the 80s, during Murray's hey day, I don't recall seeing many of his movies. I saw Ghostbusters, but it scared me. I didn't see Groundhog Day or Scrooged until much, much later. And it wasn't until the Wes Anderson movies that I really noticed Murray on the big screen.
Okay, that's my history with Murray's work. But what about this documentary? It goes to people and asks them to recount their I-met-Bill-Murray stories. And then hypothesizes on why Murray would do these things. For fun, maybe, or to stay in touch with the world and still feel like a person rather than a star. In the end, the film goes for the easy way out: "It doesn't really matter." Which kind of makes the movie feel like it doesn't matter either? I think maybe the filmmaker (Tommy Avallone) hoped Murray might actually turn up at some point for this, but he should have known better; it's worth much more to Murray to retain his mystique.
Still, I'll hazard my own explanation for Murray's behavior. It may be subconscious on his part, but I think he's somewhat aware that his legacy is more valuable in the small moments than the large ones. Think of it this way: there is the widely consumed media (movies, television), in which everyone has the same "Bill Murray experience." We all see those movies, and those are static, fixed. But in smaller, unexpected doses... In real life, in the moment... the experience is very different and far more valuable. He's leaving little memories of himself everywhere.
And making memories for himself too. So many people focus on what they get out of these brushes with stardom that they seldom consider it from the other side. Stars are people. They remember interesting encounters and fun nights out same as anyone.
These aren't the only possible reasons for Bill Murray to wander into people's houses or baseball games or whatever. In fact, there's surely no one reason so much as a confluence of them. But these are reasons I didn't hear mentioned in the film, so I wanted to pose them.
The truth is, I've met—worked with, even—a fair number of famous people, but I've never had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Murray, though I sure would like to. He reminds me of my dad, and when I looked up his birthday I understood why—he's only 10 days younger than my dad. They have a similar laid-back intensity, which is hard to understand if you haven't lived with it or dealt with it regularly. It's a weird mixture of gravitas and whimsy, an oddball humor married to an undercurrent of depression. It makes no sense, but there it is. I don't know that having near birthdays explains their similarities, but I'll pretend it does.
No one I know personally has had a run-in with Bill Murray. Maybe some day... Until then, I'll have to live vicariously. This movie is a pretty good place to start.
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