by Frank Calvillo
Box Office Alternative Column
Box Office Alternative is a weekly look into additional/optional choices to the big-budget spectacle opening up at your local movie theater every Friday. Oftentimes, titles will consist of little-known or underappreciated work from the same actor/writer/director/producer of said new release, while at other times, the selection for the week just happens to touch upon the same subject in a unique way. Above all, this is a place to revisit and/or discover forgotten cinematic gems of all kinds.
Melissa McCarthy proves the idea of the movie star is still alive with her latest comedy The Boss, which will almost certainly prove another box office hit on her rapidly-growing resume.
The Boss looks like the kind of comedy which remains firmly in tune with the actress’s brand of humor, ensuring that she remains safely nestled within the confines of her wheelhouse, from which she’s seldom ventured out of. One of the rare times she has, however, saw her giving what was her best work so far, as a struggling divorced mother opposite Bill Murray in the comedy St. Vincent.
The film follows a sarcastic, alcoholic war veteran named Vinny (Murray), who lives an existence filled with boozing, gambling and sleeping with a prostitute named Daka (Naomi Watts) who is also carrying his child. When recently-divorced nurse Maggie (McCarthy) and her 9-year-old son Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher) move in next door to Vinny, an unexpected friendship develops between the young boy and the caustic grouch, who becomes his after school babysitter and takes him under his wing, much to the surprise of everyone.
The key to what makes St. Vincent work as well as it does, is an assortment of well-written characters. This is a film so incredibly rich in characterization. Oliver represents pretty much every awkward kid on the first day of school, who feels incredibly odd and alone. The fact that he’s a bit of an old soul, though, is the reason he is able to relate to Vinny as well as he does. Meanwhile, Maggie is heartbreaking in her sacrifices and nobility. It’s incredibly moving watching her juggle the kind of life many women in society are attempting every day. Like them, Maggie is simply trying to do the best she can with what she’s got.
Yet no character comes off richer than Vinny. Here is a man who is at the lowest point in his life when we first meet him and has resigned himself to the fact that the only thing he’s got to look forward to is death. He is rude, crass, inconsiderate, callous and sarcastic. Vinny expects nothing from the world, and the world expects nothing from him. However, Vinny is funny, and he knows he’s funny. It’s his humor that serves as a tool and defense against everything working against him in life.
With such a fantastic screenplay that offers all characters their own moments to shine, St. Vincent is never short on the comedy thanks to its hilarious dialogue. “Come on coward. Try to sell me something,” Vinny instinctively says upon answering the phone. “You need to defend yourself, or you get mowed down,” Vinny says to Oliver who has just been beaten up, to which the latter states: “I’m small if you haven’t noticed.” “Yeah, so was Hitler,” Vinny retorts. “That’s a horrible comparison,” Oliver proclaims. When a noticeably upset Maggie arrives to pick up Oliver after being served court papers, Vinny asks what’s wrong. “My ex wants custody,” says Maggie. “There goes my job security,” says Vinny in a totally deadpan manner, causing Maggie to laugh and say: “Thanks you asshole.” Vinnie takes a pause before replying: “That could have gone either way.” St. Vincent is definitely sentimental, but its hilarious screenplay keeps it from entering into full on saccharine territory. This is especially true with Vinny as evidenced by the ending where he is asked by Maggie to say grace at the dinner table. Vinny and company bow their heads, preparing to pray before Vinny states: “No, I’d better not.”
The three leads of St. Vincent all do work which is positively Oscar-worthy. Watts shows a different side to herself in a role requiring her to be both funny and feisty, which she admirably succeeds at. McCarthy meanwhile is so real and genuine in all of her scenes, that it’s hard to believe this is the woman whose broad comedy anchored The Heat. If only she could find more roles which would let her be this refreshingly real. The scene between Maggie, Oliver’s teacher (Chris O’Dowd) and the school’s principal, in which she finally unloads all the struggles of her life, is her finest moment in the film.
Murray has his character down. Vinny is not another one of those grumpy roles he usually gets, but rather an extension of it, with more depth and pathos to it than many of his previous roles have afforded him. He’s incredibly well-matched with the skilled Lieberher, making for a great, if unconventional, cinematic duo.
St. Vincent was well-reviewed by critics upon release, garnering Golden Globe nominations for Murray, and the film itself. Watts and McCarthy likewise saw themselves praised by way of nominations for various awards. The film also turned a bit of a profit, when it became one of the year’s sleeper hits at the box office. However, all the buzz and hype failed to carry St. Vincent to Oscar glory or made it the widespread hit it definitely had the potential to be.
For me, the most striking thing about St. Vincent is that Vinny was so obviously someone who gave the world plenty of reasons not to love him, and yet someone disregarded all of them and chose to love him anyways. How beautifully human that is. The ultimate point of the film, however, is the question of what is it exactly that makes a saint? Naturally there are plenty of conventional answers which quickly come to mind. However, as St. Vincent so perfectly shows, a saint defies any form of conventionality and instead is defined by the life-changing and long-lasting impact they make on another person’s life, regardless of how “saintly” they may or may not come off.
