St. Vincent

Today I saw St. Vincent, starring Bill Murray and Melissa McCarthy.

Maggie (McCarthy) is a single mother enduring an ugly divorce, who is determined to provide a good life to her young son, Oliver (Jaeden Leiberher).

Vin (Murray) is the drunken next-door neighbor who they meet after their moving truck smashes into his tree, damaging his car and fence. Understandably, he's less than pleased.

Though they get off on the wrong foot, Vin soon becomes Oliver's babysitter by default and an odd, if not sweet, bond begins to form between the two after-school friends.

Though at first Vin seems like a very one-dimensional loser, we quickly learn there's more to him than meets the eye: He's unimaginably kind to the prostitute (played by Naomi Watts, sporting a Russian accent) he patronizes regularly; he makes sure his wife in the nursing home is treated with the best care possible and he treats his fluffy white cat, Felix, like royalty.

Children are typically good judges of character and Oliver is no exception. Though he deems Vin as "grouchy", there is something about him that he admits is redeeming.

The first half of the film is very much like About a Boy, with Vin playing hero to Oliver when he's bullied, etc., but then the second half takes a darker turn.

McCarthy's performance as a woman scorned is fantastic—it's actually nice to see her play it straight in this movie, instead of her usual comedic self. She's very raw and convincing as a woman trying to keep it together as her world is crumbling around her.

Murray is predictably phenomenal as well, playing both the dramatic and comedic parts with equal swagger. He's just a master, that's all.

And newcomer, Lieberher doesn't fall prey to the typical annoying kid acting traps. He is wise, but not mature and smart but not precocious. Delightful at any angle.

The only major flaw this film has is its formulaic script. Though there are a few small twists that you may not see coming, the end result is pretty obvious from the time the opening credits roll.

But sometimes, that's okay.

~~~

The Impossible

This morning I saw The Impossible, starring Naomi Watts and Tom Holland.

Maria (Watts) and her husband Henry (Ewan McGregor) are a happy couple on holiday with their three young sons, Lucas (Holland), Thomas (Samuel Joslin) and Simon (Oaklee Pendergast) in Thailand. The year is 2004.

After celebrating a joyful Christmas the day before, the family is relaxing by the pool when they hear a horrible noise. Without warning a 30-foot wall of water comes crashing into them, obliterating everything in sight.

Maria gasps her way to the surface and realizes that her son Lucas is alive and nearby. She swims to reach him and they spend the next several hours fighting for their lives; he only has minor injuries, but she has internal and external bleeding. To top it off, she's a doctor so she knows what bad shape she's in. Despite that, she tries to stay strong for Lucas, assuming she's all he has left.

Meanwhile, Henry, Thomas and Simon have all survived and are in better shape. Henry trusts kind strangers to watch the boys as he desperately searches for Lucas and Maria.

This true story of the Belon family, is one of the most intense, emotional films I've ever experienced.

Though I knew what ultimately happened going in, every last moment of this roller coaster was draining. If the characters were happy, my eyes glistened with tears of joy; if they felt pain, I absorbed their grief ten-fold. And the reenactment of the tsunami itself was better than any horror film I've seen. Simply harrowing.

Watts is so incredible as the drifting Maria, that you can almost feel the life leaving her as she lies weak in the hospital. The young Holland gives an Oscar-caliber performance, simultaneously exhibiting fear, sadness and strength.

Really, each and every cast member was phenomenal.

The Impossible will make you think about what you take for granted, how precious life is, and how kind the human spirit can be.

A wonderful, wonderful film.

Fair Game

Today I saw Fair Game, starring Naomi Watts and Sean Penn.

It will be the topic of Cinebanter #99, so tune in later this month for our review.

Eastern Promises

This morning I saw Eastern Promises, starring Naomi Watts and Viggo Mortensen.

My best advice to anyone heading out to see this: be prepared for the blood. I'm not a particular fan of gore, but for the story Cronenberg was telling, it was necessary.

A London midwife (Watts) loses a teenage mother on the operating table having known nothing about her and finds a diary the girl had written. In an effort to place the orphaned baby with the family of the deceased, she needs to have the diary translated from Russian to English. She firsts asks her uncle, but he refuses, so she goes to a restaurant that she found by way of a business card tucked into the girl's diary. There, she meets the proprietor who is perhaps too anxious to help her.

What transpires are frequent run-ins with the Russian mob and a flirtatious game of danger with the main family's "driver," who is played pitch-perfectly by Mortensen.

The film was well-paced and the story was easier to follow than many of Cronenberg's others, but without the delicious chemistry between Mortensen and Watts, it would have been just a series of violent chapters with little payoff in the end.

I liked A History of Violence better.