☆ ☆
St. Vincent (2014) – T. Melfi
I'm choking on
sentimentality here. I watched this for Bill Murray and only for Bill Murray.
Aside from the distracting accent, I think he basically gave an honest or true
portrayal here, as a general misanthrope who is nevertheless a pretty good guy
under the surface. Naomi Watts also fares well, able to submerge herself into
the role of a blunt Russian hooker who "works" for him (although
she's pretty much just working a cliché). But, man, someone spoiled the movie
around them. Perhaps it is the soundtrack with its cloying gently prodding
piano and soft-rock, urging us to feel the moments. Or is it just the
middlebrow American saccharine tone (with a bit of a religious undertone) that
bugs me? There's no edge, no edge. This is a movie about a misanthrope but he's
a fake, the whole thing is a sham, an act. I should have realized when the kid
showed up and Bill Murray became his baby-sitter (but it isn't a kids' movie
with all that swearing, is it? Who is it for?) that this was going to take a
turn for the worse. Someone keeps writing these neutered films that try to show
us characters with "heart" but they lose reality along the way.
Bleah.
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