Thanks to a “holiday” enforced by that miserable flu/cold that’s going around, the hubbub of Christmas done; there’s not much to do but stay horizontal and medicate; a perfect opportunity to check out some recent and not so recent movies. My marathon yesterday included Hunger Games: Catching Fire, John Wick and then, randomly, St. Vincent.
I’d never heard of the film but love Bill Murray so was delighted to discover it. In St. Vincent, Murray plays a character that’s typical for him: flawed, complicated, contradictory. Half grinch/half saint, half failure/half miracle worker, Vincent exemplifies a growing demographic: aging, isolated, unemployable men, unbelieving that they are still capable making a real difference in the world, yet exceptionally attuned (perhaps by virtue of their precariousness) to compassionate understanding, acts of kindness and true Christian love. Not too surprisingly perhaps, the story came out of the real-life experiences of author-director Theordore Melfi.
There’s an army of such people out there (and not just older, and not just men). Who will organize them?