Palm Springs debuted on Hulu in July of 2020, in a time with little competition, because we weren’t allowed to go to movie theaters. But more surprising, even in normal times this might be my favorite movie of the year.

(Though Da 5 Bloods is also a huge achievement and definitely a must-see. Seriously, don’t skip it because it’s an hour longer and “serious” or you think it feels like homework — it’s a powerful, beautiful film.)

Why Palm Springs works so well is even more interesting. At first glance, it’s just a rehash of the Groundhog Day formula, but with a more modern sense of humor and a more straightforward romantic comedy setup. And since Groundhog Day is basically a perfect movie, of course its spiritual successor also works. But what does it do to deserve so much credit? Three huge, crucial story changes:

ONE: EDITING

This is the nerdiest structural critique, but also the bravest choice the movie makes. The original Groundhog Day runs about 1 hour 40 minutes, but takes the first full 18 minutes setting up the character and his predicament before Phil wakes up in his first time loop. We then spend the middle of the movie watching him figure out the “rules” of this world, and experiment with different ways to get out. Only after all that does he commit to a path of personal growth.

Palm Springs skips over the entire first two sections of Groundhog Day, dropping us in with a character already deep into his endlessly repeating purgatory. Nyles is past his ‘figuring out how it all works’ phase, so the movie kicks off with his general acceptance of being stuck, and what that means for him on both a practical and existential level.

He’s making the best of what his life has become, built some simple rules for how not to be an awful person in that world, but he’s lost any sense of meaning or purpose beyond that. This way, we get to spend the whole movie on his journey of emotional growth, when we get to the second big change that makes all the difference in the world.

TWO: COMPANIONSHIP

The biggest game-changer in this script is the introduction of other characters into the same repeating loop. Not only does this unlock a lot more potential for fun that the movie makes great use of, it opens up totally new emotional territory to explore. In a lot of ways, this is actually Sarah’s movie, with Nyles playing the mentor/companion as she goes through phases of denial, negotiation, and acceptance before coming out the other side and forcing both of them to grow and change.

Now, this isn’t a story of a man getting one day just right so he can earn redemption, which has always had a sort of creepy stalker implication in Groundhog Day, since our protagonist’s whole goal is to effectively trick the woman he desires into loving him back.

Instead, Palm Springs is a story about what it means to share a life with someone, even if that life, like most lives, is going to be a lot of the same thing over and over again. And the ability to make peace with that is beautiful in a whole new way from the original.

THREE: SETTING

The least consequential, but this update allows for whole new shades to the idea of getting stuck on repeat. A destination wedding in Palm Springs sounds pretty fun. In normal circumstances, this would be something you look forward to, and almost certainly post to your Instagram to make people jealous. It’s lounging and drinking and catered food with a picturesque backdrop. Who wouldn’t want more days like that?

But again, the movie both exposes how empty all that ultimately is, and pushes its characters to go beyond what we’re supposed to want out of life to find something deeper than the gram-worthy lifestyle that only looks good on the surface. Even the most idyllic, indulgent days lose their luster eventually, and at a certain point you want something more.

So even though Palm Springs pays great homage to its inspiration, with a few key changes it delivers a fresh, funny, and affecting look at how we spend our days and who we want to spend them with — which brings us back to questions we can ask ourselves about our own lives.

If you could choose one day of your life to live on loop,
which day would you choose, and why?

Where would you be, which people would you be with,
and why would you choose them?

How long could you spend living that same day, and
what would be the biggest reason that you wanted out?

In 2019, Sally Rooney’s coming-of-age relationship novel, Normal People, easily made my top books of the year list. But at the time I only wrote a few sentences about why I found it so page-turning and powerful. Now only a year later, Lenny Abrahamson’s adaptation has debuted on Hulu, bringing a whole new audience to the story of Connell and Marianne.

Reading descriptions of either the book or the series, it’s not hard to imagine people jumping to the conclusion that this is a work of teen melodrama, and not for them. I should know: after seeing the trailers, I almost skipped the show DESPITE loving the book, because the marketing didn’t feel enough like the story I’d read and loved. On the surface, the series appeared exactly like the sort of schmaltzy romance the book did such a good job dissecting.

I’m pleased to report that the show, like the book, achieves something much more special. Something more complex and with greater depth than a will-they-or-won’t-they courtship drama. Though pretty quickly in, you find out they definitely will, then won’t, then will again, a lot, on and off for years. Which is more to the point of the project.

Sure, there’s a bit of that youthful tendency for the characters to think every setback is earth-shattering, or to make basic relationship mistakes that frustrate the more mature among us to no end. ( SWEET DANGLING CHAIN, CONNELL, JUST TELL HER WHAT YOU REALLY WANT.) But both the show and the book capture the unique intensity of first loves with such sensitivity, and then interrogates what t means to us so skillfully, that it becomes much more than a question of whether two characters get their happily ever after. Because as most of us know: they won’t. That’s not how life works. Rarely does a first great love become a lifelong one, even if at the time it feels like losing it means the end of the world.

What makes Normal People so smart and so powerful is that it’s not really about whether two people end up together. It’s more interested in how certain people — whether loves, or friends, or family (or that one asshole you’re not sure why anyone keeps inviting to parties, JAMIE) — these people leave their marks on us. They unlock something we’ve felt we had inside ourselves just waiting to be discovered, and they shape the people we eventually become.

It’s specifically not a love story for the ages, because these are Normal People. Normal People feel weird and misunderstood until finally someone sees us. Normal People fall in love for the first time (even if it’s not always romantic love), and they feel changed, even if that love doesn’t last, because it’s normal to screw it up. And in most cases, Normal People move on… past the loves and friendships lost, and toward an uncertain future, as best as they know how.

Who are the people that changed you the most, or set you on the course to who you are today?

What parts of who you are now would you attribute to those past relationships?

How might you be different if you’d never had those people in your life?

**note: most of these are intended to have a long “discussable shelf-life,” which I believe to be equally true here — but this one takes on added importance at this moment in particular.**

**additional note: because of this moment in time (and the time it’s afforded us), I’ve also started experimenting with a video format. Similar content either way. Please be kind, it’s early days yet.**

In this coronavirus-plagued spring of 2020, we find ourselves stuck at home with our roommates, family or partners in a way we never have before.  Meanwhile the media (from news outlets to advertisers) have all-too-eagerly tried to frame this moment as a heartwarming opportunity — to spend that time growing closer, if we use it right.

This reminded me of an episode from John Greene’s podcast, The Anthropocene Reviewed, where late last year, while discussing the merits and uses of the iPhone’s Notes app, he quotes something he had once jotted down in his phone: a the poet Donald Hall’s much more artful take on how we spend time with loved ones. Less a maximization strategy, than a reckoning with the reality of relationships.

“We did not spend our days gazing into each other’s eyes. We did that gazing when we made love or when one of us was in trouble, but most of the time our gazes met and entwined as they looked at a third thing. Third things are essential to marriages, objects or practices or habits or arts or institutions or games or human beings that provide a site of joint rapture or contentment. Each member of a couple is separate; the two come together in double attention.”

So in this time of being together, alone, for longer-than-usual stretches, it seemed like a good time to reflect on those Third Things, and decide which ones are better at deepening our relationships vs merely filling time.

What are the Third Things in your relationships?

Which are best at bringing you together,
and what makes them better than others?

How is our reliance on Third Things a positive
or negative reality of how we connect to each other?

The battle of the sexes is over; they are clearly smarter than men.

A quick, if loaded, topic as we approach the election: FiveThirtyEight posted data (above) showing that if only women vote, Clinton wins in a landslide. If only men vote, Trump becomes president. And this Atlantic piece shares data that the old truth that households, particularly married couples, tend to vote together is becoming less and less true.

How important is it for you to agree politically with your significant other?

What degree of difference is acceptable, or even beneficial? Where do you draw the line?

Is the trend of politically diverse households good or bad for society?

Charts: the most time-honored way for nerds to make major life decisions.

The chart above, and the accompanying post on Wait But Why, is one of the most level-headed and human examinations of how we make “The Marriage Decision” I’ve seen in a long time. In particular, it emphasizes that perfection is nonexistent, and that long-term happiness is a matter of plotting the right elements of a relationship in the right places on that chart up there. And also acknowledging:

The key with [deal-breakers] is that there are very few. These aren’t wants—these are needs. Your wants are important, but remember, the only people even eligible for the deal-breaker test are those who have already passed the gut test—plenty of your wants have already been taken care of in step 1 of our system.

Knowing your deal-breakers can help you know the right relationship when you see it, but it can also go a long way for anyone already in a relationship, because it lends insight into one of the trickiest aspects of a relationship: compromise. A great way to be unhappy is to refuse to compromise on things you wish were true about your relationship that aren’t. But another great way to be unhappy is to be too willing to compromise on your deal-breakers. That’s why this is so important—deal-breakers not only help Deciders and single people figure out what should be unacceptable in a relationship, they also remind already-Decided people that most of the problems in their relationship are probably non-deal-breakers that it’s okay to chill out about. Because so many relationship problems boil down to one or both members treating non-deal-breakers like deal-breakers—or vice versa.

Though some might see this sort of examination as cold (the piece addresses that too), I find it to be something much more positive and constructive. Not so much cold as… calm. Accepting. Honest. So whether you’re in a relationship, already married, or looking for someone, it’s probably valuable to take honest stock of what goes where.

What are your real, honest, totally inflexible deal-breakers?

Which aspects are actually just nice to have (or not have to deal with) that you are more able to compromise on?

What else would go in this chart with your current (or ideal) relationship?

**note: this may not be a good one to do off-the-cuff over beers with your current significant other without at least some prior consideration. It’s your funeral.**