It was a fleeting glance that seemed to last an eternity.
At the 2014 Academy Awards, Bill Murray — less than one week removed from the death of his former friend and collaborator Harold Ramis — was presenting the Oscar for Best Cinematography. After reading the list of nominees, Murray said, “Oh, we forgot one. Harold Ramis for Caddyshack, Ghostbusters, and Groundhog Day.”
Murray then peered directly into the camera, and his smile straightened. His eyes welled up, and for one brief second, the normally reserved and collected actor’s face crumpled into a look of sorrow.
It was a fitting tribute to Ramis, who had been Murray’s collaborator on six films including Caddyshack, Meatballs, Ghostbusters, and Groundhog Day. The tandem had broken box office records for comedies and helped usher in an anti-establishment aesthetic still going strong today.
But something happened in 1993 between Ramis and Murray, and the pair would not speak to each other — save a few pleasantries at events — for almost 21 years. And when they did finally speak, it was with the shadow of death looming over them.
The Chicago Connection
Harold Ramis was born in Chicago, and he would spend most of his life there. A naturally gifted writer, Ramis’ first foray into the printed word would be with the Chicago Daily News in the mid-60s. He then transitioned into comedy writing, editing the “Party Jokes” section of Playboy magazine. In 1969 Ramis was accepted into the Second City, an improvisational sketch comedy troupe that would birth the careers of such comedy luminaries as John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, and Bill Murray. Ramis was essentially typecast.
I played a lot of weasels, a lot of cowards; sweating cowards was my thing. I used to play like hippies and, like, counterculture guys, and [John] Belushi kind of took that over, so I moved into the coward role. … The other thing I would always play was the character called “specs” or “the professor.” I’d play the brainy guy, which I ended up doing, of course, in Ghostbusters.
Ramis would leave the theater briefly after an LSD trip led to a revelation that he didn’t belong on the stage. When he returned in 1972, John Belushi had taken his place, and Ramis would settle into a “straight-man” role that would pervade the rest of his acting career.