I’ve been seeing shows for too many years to be talking about hicks worshipping magical beavers. Yet here we are.

In 2017 few things have given much in the way of hope and distraction. Save for one extraordinary show on Broadway, Groundhog Day.

A quick skim of the show list in any Playbill reveals one thing — adaptations and revivals are dominating the stages. Among the return of Miss Saigon, Hello, Dolly, and the short-lived, but brilliant revival of Falsettos, newcomer Dear Evan Hansen dominates theater-talk.

With a jam-packed Broadway season approaching, long-running shows like Jersey Boys are saying farewell while newcomers are taking their final bows somewhat prematurely. One casualty of 2017 is Groundhog Day. From the minds of Danny Rubin and Tim Minchin, Groundhog Day is the musical adaptation of Rubin’s 1993 film by the same name.

It’s dark in a way that I almost cannot describe because the hope and love and harmony allows the show to achieve perfect balance. Groundhog Day is not a first or second act show. It’s a journey that lifts you up as quickly as it brings you down all the while asking: what are you putting off to tomorrow, that could be done today?

is funny, dry, and nothing without it’s incredible regular cast and superhero-like swings.

Barrett Doss’ Rita Hanson is judge and jury for this story. As Phil spirals through his existential crisis and the citizens of Punx, PA create the heightened environment of this oddball holiday, Rita roots the show in reality. She calls Phil out on his bullshit, gets let down, but ultimately makes the case that one must push past themselves and embrace life. Even if that means taking a moment to shake hands with the folks who believe groundhogs predict the weather.

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The original incarnation of Phil Connors has one distinct advantage — he’s Bill Murray. No matter how hard he tries, Bill Murray is not going to stir up enough trouble in 104 minutes for you to hate him. Andy Karl, on the other hand, has to turn you off completely before earning back your affection in the two and half hours you spend with him.

#BillMurray @groundhogdaybwy #speechless ???? ?@bruglikas

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And he does. Somehow, some way, Karl toes the line of prick just long enough to believe that there is no hope of his redemption.

The extra hour the musical tacks on to the original feature film helps. In that hour something happens on stage that cannot happen on screen. For all the jump cuts the film had to its advantage in the editing bay only in the musical do you gain a more fully realized Phil Connors.

In the moments where the musical could lean heavily on the familiar — “Watch that first step, it’s a doozy!” — it opts for turning (literally) around the theme of repetition. It’s baked into every element of the show, both subtly and overtly.

And while some effects, such as Phil Connors repeatedly stepping into a puddle did not lend itself to an easy theatrical trick, it left Rubin, Minchin, and director Matthew Warchus open to add in moments (like a spin on a tilt-a-whirl) to pull out more story.

In the extended act one closer, “One Day,” Phil tries and fails multiple times to bed Rita. Her refusal is the straw that breaks the camel’s back and pushes him to, as he says, “embrace the darkness.”

Enter Tim Minchin’s brilliant score. Groundhog Day is a piece of musical theater that rewards the listener with repetition. Coincidence? I’d like to believe it isn’t.

Minchin twists the same words and phrases to mean two or even three things within the same turn of phrase. Take this portion of Rita’s “One Day” for example:

In that fairytale world all the girls end up happy ever after.
Wooing their knights in shining armour.
But some nights down the track
You can bet they’ll be trapped
Spending nights ‘n shining armour.

If anything is played for a gag, there is a reason. Not a single moment in this show is done just for the sake of doing it.

As it turns out, adjustments can be made, including removing leapfrogs from the action-packed musical number, “Philanthropy.” The infamous number that landed Andy Karl with a torn ACL three days before opening night. Unfortunately, even that accident lends itself beautifully to the show — no matter how well you plan for life, it finds a way of sweeping you off your feet.

As this cast works their magic, the audience can sway the show into new territory.

In the five performances of Groundhog Day that I have seen, the story has not changed, but each incarnation has grown and affected me in different ways. At one performance a rousing cheer at the close of the incredibly-staged car chase, “Nobody Cares,” cranked the energy on stage to a nine with Andy Karl throwing everything he had into Phil’s tour about town in “Philandering.”

And in another when the curtain went up in act two and Nancy’s breakout song “Playing Nancy” concluded, the energy from her moment carried through “Hope,” pushing Karl with a new energy through the final notes of the song. It was a moment to witness.

But for all the fun and games that Karl brings to the forefront of the weatherman clad in confidence, he maintains an aura of pain and frustration. As Phil slips into madness, plows through acceptance, then crashes and spirals in grief and denial, something unexpected happens — you begin to root for Phil to be the better person. He earns that response.

In those fleeting moments of self-examination, Phil acknowledges his own shortcomings and begins to look out instead of in.

There is a moment in which Phil laments about all the things he will never have again due to his purgatory in Punx, PA. Among them are a birthday, a raise, a beard. But at no point do we get a sense of this man having any connections outside of his professional life. There is no talk of missing family, friends, or even his own bed. The despair and utter loss in that scene is palpable.

In the midst of this heightened world where people walk around with groundhogs sewn to their hats standing outside in the middle of a blizzard to wave flags and cheer on a marmoset, the emotional realness of the show hits hard when it needs to.

“Seeing You,” the number performed at the Tony Awards this year, is the pot of gold at the end of this wacky rainbow. You feel Phil Connors exhale as he literally takes a moment to soak in life.

Groundhog Day is the most rewarding musical I’ve seen in several years. It is smart, moving, and above all, full of hope.

Unfortunately, the show will spin around Gobbler’s Knob for the final time on September 17. If you’re in or around the New York City area in the next two weeks, I cannot recommend this show enough.

For tickets to Groundhog Day visit Ticketmaster.com, or enter the lottery at Luckyseat.