Murray slips easily into the role of liquor-breathed degenerate, Vincent, a
man with no money, no friends, a mountain of gambling debts, and no tolerance
for anybody. That is except for his pregnant Russian "girlfriend"
Daka (Naomi Watts), who also happens to be a prostitute with a chip on her
shoulder. Vincent hates people, people hate him, and that only makes the
arrival of his new neighbors a bigger problem. The first time he meets single
mother Maggie (Melissa McCarthy) and her young son Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher)
it's a showcase of his awful attitude. Think Clint Eastwood's character in Gran
Torino if he was meaner, drunker, and generally more "hey you kids get
offa my lawn"! 
With Maggie working long hours and Oliver attending an expensive Catholic
School (with Chris O'Dowd hilarious as his teacher, we needed more of him),
Vincent is called upon to be the kid's babysitter, despite ample evidence he'd
be terrible at the job. And of course he turns out to be a bad influence in the
way that somehow still makes him lovable. If you've seen Rushmore, The
Royal Tenenbaums, or this year's Bad Words, you'll see the montage
of Vincent and Oliver hanging out coming ten miles away. It's still enjoyable
to watch the old guy take Oliver gambling, to a bar, and to a strip club. The
kid breaks down those emotional barriers Vincent has put up to escape a
painful, and a little makeshift family begins to form. 
Standard issue stuff, right? First-time writer/director Ted Melfi infuses a
few personal details to a mostly clichéd story, and doesn't attempt to hide
this is meant to be a rousing, crowd charmer. Because of that there isn't a ton
of nuance to be found in many of these characters, but Melfi finds a way to
make them all unique in their own way. Murray has played the irresponsible man
child so many times in his career (stretching way back to Meatballs)
that this feels like a natural fit for him. He elevates what could have been
just another angry old man character, giving us a deeper look at Vincent as the
story unfolds to reveal some dark truths. Is it the Oscar-contending
performance many have pegged it to be? Maybe not, but it's not for lack of
trying by either Murray or Melfi, who take every opportunity to tug at the
heartstrings. Audiences are going to love Murray, though, and he's great when
paired up with Lieberher. It's also good to see McCarthy in a role that doesn't
require her to play, loud, abrasive, and clumsy. She doesn't get many laugh
lines here at all and it's actually a refreshing change to see her get away
from the usual bag of tricks. The same can't really be said for Watts, who puts
on an atrocious Russian accent and waddles around like...well, like a woman in
her third trimester. She just doesn't serve much of a purpose except as an
incubator for an inevitable heart-warming moment. St. Vincent often feels like a manufactured grab for awards recognition and maybe it was. That much is unavoidable, but so too is how good the film will make you feel, and sometimes sending the audience home with a smile is more than enough.
Rating: 3 out of 5
