Every year my wife goes on a business trip, and every year I'm stuck home with the kid(s). This year, while she was living it up (my words) in North Carolina, I was the sole caretaker of not one, but two mobile children (last year Violet was an adorable lump of goo). Anyway, about an hour into our first night alone, I slipped down the stairs. I caught myself, but instantly had a vision of laying at the bottom of our wooden stairs, compound fracture in each limb. Instantly, I grabbed my son and had the talk.
If something were to happen to Daddy, kiddo, call 9-1-1. And if you can't reach my phone, or if it's dead (it's always dead), go next door, okay? Our neighbor will help you.
I mean, I assume she would. Right?
While my neighbor Cindy is a quiet older woman I really don't know too much about, I still feel I could trust her a lot more than Bill Murray's character in St. Vincent. Cindy's not going to take my son to a bar. Or to the track. And she's certainly not paying a pregnant Russian woman for sex.
If you missed the trailer, Vincent is your typical movie a-hole neighbor. He's always rude, he's often drunk, and barely qualifies as a functioning member of society. And after some movers smash up his car, he's pissed. And it just so happens that the family moving in next door will come to rely on him very heavily. Yes, Vincent the selfish bastard, will have to watch her neighbor's kid, as Single Mom's gotta work late. Again.
As familiar as the whole thing sounds (at at times, feels), I can't say I didn't enjoy it. Despite most of the plot feeling rather formulaic, St. Vincent still works. Sure, the ending almost lovingly hugs the life out of the film, but the stellar cast ultimately saves the day.
Murray does a bang up job playing Vince as a (possibly) misunderstood scumbag, and Melissa McCarthy dials it back a bit as the overwhelmed single mom, Maggie. But the star of the show, without a doubt, is newcomer Jaeden Lieberher as young Oliver. This kid is the best.
On the other end of the spectrum of being the best, are the Yays and Boos. After this one they're really intrigued with the process sainthood. They thought watching Martyrs qualified them, but I told them it's a little more complicated than that.
Look, if you ever need anything, like a cup of sugar, someone to get your mail for you, feed your dog or whatever, don't hesitate to ask. Someone else.
If something were to happen to Daddy, kiddo, call 9-1-1. And if you can't reach my phone, or if it's dead (it's always dead), go next door, okay? Our neighbor will help you.
I mean, I assume she would. Right?
If you missed the trailer, Vincent is your typical movie a-hole neighbor. He's always rude, he's often drunk, and barely qualifies as a functioning member of society. And after some movers smash up his car, he's pissed. And it just so happens that the family moving in next door will come to rely on him very heavily. Yes, Vincent the selfish bastard, will have to watch her neighbor's kid, as Single Mom's gotta work late. Again.
As familiar as the whole thing sounds (at at times, feels), I can't say I didn't enjoy it. Despite most of the plot feeling rather formulaic, St. Vincent still works. Sure, the ending almost lovingly hugs the life out of the film, but the stellar cast ultimately saves the day.
Murray does a bang up job playing Vince as a (possibly) misunderstood scumbag, and Melissa McCarthy dials it back a bit as the overwhelmed single mom, Maggie. But the star of the show, without a doubt, is newcomer Jaeden Lieberher as young Oliver. This kid is the best.
On the other end of the spectrum of being the best, are the Yays and Boos. After this one they're really intrigued with the process sainthood. They thought watching Martyrs qualified them, but I told them it's a little more complicated than that.
 |
| Check out what pure joy looks like. |
Yaaaaaaaay!
- Feel free to contradict me, but Chris O'Dowd is pretty much always a Yay. Even in a small role as the world's most laid back Catholic school teacher.
- Sir. While I don't really like being called it, I sure do like hearing it. (Oliver is so polite)
- Even though you knew it was going to happen at some point, the moment Vincent Oliver's tormentor's was awesome. Ride this [snap].
- The little side story with Vince's wife broke my heart. It almost made up for the giant dick that Vince was the other 23 hours a day. Almost.
- McCarthy has a scene in this one that's so good, it almost makes me forgive her for Tammy [review]. Almost.
- The post-track scene! Makes me want to go to the OTB. Just kidding (that place terrifies me).
- Shelter from the Storm: first-ballot inductee into the Soundtrack Hall of Fame.
- And finally, let me put my hands together for Bill Murray. If you look at this guy's body of work, it's pretty damn impressive. Vincent might not replace Peter Venkman as my personal favorite, but it's up there.
Boooo!
- Naomi Watts. I actually ended up liking her character (especially some of her lines), but I'm booing the insane level of quirk. Stripper, I'm good with. Russian stripper, I'm okay with. Pregnant Russian Stripper? Not good, okay?
- Vincent does some pretty terrible things. Like, all the time. But his activities at the bank are deplorable.
- I haven't felt that bad about the contents of a box since Se7en.
- And finally, even though it eventually won me over, the ending is pretty ridiculous. The only way Oliver's presentation could have been more emotional, is if everyone in the audience had received a wounded puppy when they took their seats. The only way.
Look, if you ever need anything, like a cup of sugar, someone to get your mail for you, feed your dog or whatever, don't hesitate to ask. Someone else.