“The Boy Next Door” review by Nestor Bentancor.

January is known to be the time of the year where Hollywood dumps the trash. A few of the new releases will compete for a spot in many people’s “worst of the year” list, no doubt about it, but not necessarily because these are cinematic abominations. These duds are guilty of -in my opinion- cinema’s greatest sin: they are extremely boring. A couple of days after seating through the insufferable “Blackhat” -what the hack Michael Mann?- I was ready to eat another bullet, “The Boy Next Door.” Instead, I found myself entertained from beginning to end.

If you saw the trailer you know what’s going on: Jennifer Lopez is a super sexy desperate housewife that, after having a one-night-stand with a way younger neighbor (Ryan Guzman), becomes the victim of his obsession. That sounds like something that can actually happen. But it feels like someone started yelling “More! More!” during script revision meetings. The result? Any trace of realism got thrown out the window.

TheBoyNextDoorTrailer
With each exaggerated and over-the-top development the characters become less human and more caricatures: JLo’s Claire is your typical beautiful bookworm, dedicated teacher, forgiving betrayed woman and overprotective suburban mom; while the fat-free Noah isn’t just mentally troubled, but one of the most twisted and explosive psychopaths in film history.

But a soap opera-like narrative isn’t enough to awake your inner cynic and start enjoining a train wreck. Bad acting, terrible dialogue, and an even worse story are necessary of course, but one ingredient is key to make the whole affair hilarious: it must be played straight. I was able to have fun with “The Boy Next Door” because the movie genuinely believes that it’s an edgy thriller, while actually being an unintentional parody of the genre.

So, instead of running away from it, invite your neighbors to see “The Boy Next Door” and let your lust for “so bad, they are good” movies run wild.