Theodore Melfi‘s St. Vincent (formerly St. Vincent de Van Nuys) is an emotonally engaging, nicely-crafted, perfectly agreeable dysfunctional family dramedy set in…where is it, Sheepshead Bay? And good old Bill Murray‘s performance as Vincent, a retired, lazy-ass, less-than-hygenic boozer with a good heart, is a juicy role and roughly on par with his performances in Rushmore and Lost in Translation. The film is good enough to not stand in the way of a possible Oscar nomination for Murray, but it isn’t quite substantial enough on its own terms to be nominated itself. But I enjoyed it. It never lifted me out of the my chair but it’s nice, it’s fine…nothing to complain about. And it’s very agreeable to see Melissa McCarthy give a steady, focused, mid-tempo performance that doesn’t involve acting like a lower-middle-class slob. It’s basically a louche-goofball-babysitting drama, and the 12 year-old kid (Jaeden Liberher) who more or less costars with Murray is on-target also. Smart and mature, stands his ground, doesn’t “kid” it up too much.