Make Time for Saint Vincent

Saint Vincent is the kind of movie that lingers on your mind long after the last frame has passed. It’s an extraordinary motion picture whose characters—especially Bill Murray’s Vincent--feel vibrant, alive, and authentic. That’s not to say that the first five minutes are easy to watch. My wife almost gave up on the film before it began, but I suggested she give it the benefit of the doubt, and I’m glad she did. The characterization requires a somewhat graphic approach at the start in order to properly set the stage for what the movie is all about. Your remote’s fast forward likely works just fine.

Vincent is not exactly anti-social, but…okay, maybe he is. When we first meet the main character, it’s hard to imagine him possessing any redeeming quality. When the new neighbors arrive, we feel sorry for them, and we wince when the child is left in the care of this irresponsible recluse. Yet, slowly, the tale unfolds, and we realize that what we’ve assumed is wrong.

In a word, I see this movie being as being about redemption, but this redemption is not conveyed in such a way that the audience feels emotionally manipulated. As I said, the characters feel real and their interactions come across as true. Towards the start of the movie, for instance, the young Oliver experiences the worst possible day at school. Everything imaginable goes wrong. It’s painful to watch, yet it feels so very much like what many of us experienced in childhood. (In my case, I dropped my orthodontic retainer into a particularly unsanitary location within the boy’s restroom. Use your imagination, and then be glad it wasn’t you who had to fish it out.)

The movie accomplishes a feat I’ve not often witnessed in a motion picture. It challenges our stereotypes in a fresh and powerful way. It introduces the cast then almost dares us to make a judgment, a presumption as to its lead character. If we take him at face value, we see an individual of little apparent value or worth, but this judgment is proven incredibly wrong in the end. It may seem a cliché to say every individual has worth and value, but there’s nothing cliché about the way this motion picture accomplishes its magic. It feels like truth or an awakening to the larger picture around us.

I’m reminded of C.S. Lewis’ wonderful words from Weight of Glory.

There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.

I’ve enjoyed watching Bill Murray’s films for most of my adult life, but this will probably go down as one of my favorites. While I’ve known that Bill Murray is a strong Catholic, this motion picture—and Bill Murray’s involvement--makes his faith more real and palpable to me. The Catholic school scenes, in particular, are spot on. The actor demonstrates a deep grasp of what it truly means to be human in all of its mystery. Through the story of one simple and misunderstood man, we see hope and grace abounding all around. The cast is wonderful, and the movie is one you wont forget.