The storyline of Theodore Melfi’s debut feature Saint Vincent is far from original, and deliberately so. Vincent (Bill Murray) is a grumpy old man, a cynical war veteran who’s into drinking, gambling, and whoring. His new neighbour, Maggie (Melissa McCarthy), has just divorced her cheating husband, has a new job that barely allows her to make ends meet, and knows nobody who can take care of her son Oliver (Jaden Lieberher) after school.
So she hires Vincent to baby-sit him, even if the irritable, surly man doesn’t seem to be the most appropriate person to be around a young boy. But bear in mind this is a safe, feel-good movie so halfway through the story Vincent and Oliver become kind of friends, even if begrudgingly on the old man’s part. There’s also Daka (Naomi Watts), a pregnant stripper and prostitute who satisfies Vincent’s occasional sexual sparks. Later on, she will take care of him when his health fails him. And there are also some surprises around the block, but only a few: this is the kind of movie that ends tied up neatly with a bow
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So what’s to praise about this story of a cranky old man who finds love and redemption thanks to a kid’s love? Unquestionably, the performances. Of course you know Bill Murray is a monumental actor, so it shouldn’t comes as a surprise how gracefully he fills in the shoes of Vincent. Yet he outdoes himself with unexpected nuances, some striking moments, and more than a handful of perfect gags. Melissa McCarthy is delicately persuasive and occasionally extraordinary in a modest sort of way, whereas Naomi Watts does a great job to flesh up her somewhat underwritten character. As for Jaden Lieberher, he won’t disappoint you as the slightly smartass, independent kid in need of a father and a mentor — and with much love for his mother.
Also, during the first two thirds there’s enough sarcasm and wit in the dialogue and many of the gags, to make you think that Saint Vincent may not be such a feel-good movie after all. Some incisive remarks and observations speak of a darker underlying scenario that may actually mimic the real America, with its real problems and petty stories. But throughout the last third of the film, the moderate pessimism and gloom gives way to hope and bliss, to care and forgiveness, and to the acknowledgment of sainthood in an otherwise very unholy old man. It’s time to celebrate life for good.
Hadn’t it delved into sentimentalism and sugarcoating, Saint Vincent could have been a slightly different film singing a different song, from beginning to end.
