Old man meets kid, doesn’t like him, but by the end they’re best friends. It’s been done before (see “Up” if you haven’t), and “St. Vincent” is no exception. It’s a welcome return for Bill Murray as a leading man, but does the film offer much else other than a showcase for the notorious actor? The answer is sadly, no.

“St. Vincent” takes its name from the title character Vincent (Murray), who is not the nicest of men. He smokes, drinks, gambles, and fools around with a pregnant Russian stripper, played by Naomi Watts, with an unconvincing accent. He’s also broke and has distrust in bank, while a subplot regarding Vincent’s ailing wife and his problems with a racetrack owner only add to his stress.  It isn’t long before his new neighbors – a nuanced Melissa McCarthy and newcomer Jaeden Lieberher –  enter his life, and Vincent becomes a little more saintly, as the title suggests.

The film is written and directed by Theodore Melfi, and is his debut. With that, the film does come with detractors, but also with strengths. Melfi’s direction of Murray is spot on, giving the actor room to breathe and develop his character over the 100-minute film. His focus on Vincent is so precise and a careful, he makes the character compellingly watchable. Many times, shot from overhead, watching Murray lying in his own pool of thoughts.

Melfi gets a good amount out of the rest of his actors, especially playing on the impeccable comedic timing of Chris O’Dowd, playing a Catholic priest. However, his direction often gets lost in the sentimentality of his own writing, causing scenes to drift into areas seen far too many times in similar films. His script means well, but it’s nothing fresh or interesting. Instead, it’s major tropes of feel good movies hashed out over and over, combined with unsubtle messages regarding the healthcare system and American banks. While important topics, they are ones best left for another type of film. In the end, it’s a tired story that doesn’t need to be told over again, at least not like this; boy befriends old man is best left to Pixar.

The performance of Mr. Murray is what elevates this film to another level. He enters into the role of Vincent effortlessly; creating a character that is instantaneously despicable, yet limitlessly likeable. He commands the screen, and is given a chance to give a performance comparable to his in “Lost In Translation.” Watching him engage with other actors is a treat, especially when it’s with Lieberher, and it’s a pleasure to watch his character simply lay in silence, soaking in his troubles. That’s the beauty of Murray: he makes ordinary characters utterly fascinating.

The rest of the cast gives fine performances. McCarthy is given a chance to show off her dramatic range, which is definitely convincing, and young Jaeden Lieberher is fine as the young companion of Vincent. The two share marvelous chemistry on screen. Ms. Watts however, is grossly miscast, sporting a subpar Russian accent for a character that feels like she belongs in another film. Her subplot is the least interesting, and at times the most melodramatic.

In the end, “St. Vincent” is a film worth seeing for Bill Murray alone. It’s not a bad film by any means, but it’s not quite special either. I’m curious as to what Mr. Melfi has in store next.