I admire Bill Murray’s work. In my opinion, he consistently delivers compelling performances. Films such as Stripes, Groundhog Day and Lost in Translation rank among my all-time favorites. This context is important as you read this review, because if you’re not a Bill Murray fan, your assessment of St. Vincent may differ, as the film heavily relies on Murray’s established persona: the eccentric, aging curmudgeon with a knowing glint in his eye.
Vincent is portrayed as a bitter and cantankerous older man, seemingly disillusioned with life and people. This role appears tailor-made for Murray. He spends his days smoking, drinking, and frequenting bars, or tending to his neglected garden. The portrayal is often humorous, yet simultaneously evokes a sense of sadness. He regularly visits his wife, who suffers from dementia, at a nursing home to wash her clothes, highlighting his deep-seated loneliness and using bitterness as a shield against life’s hardships. One morning, following a particularly difficult night involving heavy drinking, a head injury, driving under the influence, and property damage, twelve-year-old Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher) moves in next door with his single mother (Melissa McCarthy).
Initially resistant, as is his nature, Vincent gradually finds himself drawn to Oliver. Oliver, lacking a strong paternal figure, and Vincent, devoid of joy, develop an unlikely friendship. Vincent teaches Oliver to defend himself, to drink (presumably in jest, given Oliver’s age), to gamble on horses, and even how to prepare homemade sushi. Bill Murray, alongside Jaeden Lieberher and Melissa McCarthy, finds capable counterparts to play off of, and McCarthy, showcasing a more subdued comedic approach, delivers a restrained yet effective performance. While her comedic talent occasionally shines through, she largely maintains a lower profile. Oliver and Vincent’s burgeoning friendship faces challenges; complications arise, stemming from Vincent’s complex personality and the effects of years of self-neglect on his health.
Naomi Watts’s role as Vincent’s “love” interest is also noteworthy; though “love” might be a generous description. Their relationship appears driven less by affection and more by circumstance. Watts portrays a stripper of unspecified origin who also works as a prostitute and is pregnant with Vincent’s child. This eclectic cast of characters, complemented by the talented young Jaeden Lieberher, generates considerable comedic moments. However, the film is not purely lighthearted; it incorporates elements of darkness to create a balanced narrative. Theodore Melfi, serving as both writer and director, skillfully navigates the delicate balance between humor and pathos, warmth and coldness, light and shadow. Vincent’s character can be genuinely mean-spirited and self-centered, raising the question of whether Oliver can elicit and sustain his better nature.
St. Vincent unfolds at a comfortable pace, simultaneously eliciting sadness, humor, and warmth. Bill Murray embodies not only a comical and eccentric curmudgeon but also a tormented individual burdened by inner demons. This duality translates effectively to the screen, making the film compelling viewing. In summary, St Vincent is recommended for those who enjoy character-driven comedies with darker undertones and, like myself, appreciate Bill Murray’s diverse range of performances. It is, simply, a very enjoyable film.
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