A newly divorced woman falls for a younger man who has recently moved in across the street from her, but their torrid affair soon takes a dangerous turn.But the high school student quickly morphs into a stalker after JLo agrees to help him with his chicken. Then, the "movie shifts from ominous to obvious at light speed," says CBC film critic Eli Glasner.
"[It's] the kind of film that flunks even the most basic requirements," says Glasner who censures the film for its "ham-fisted storytelling and lack of tension."
The Boy Next Door is in theatres now.Maybe the filmmakers assumed we’d think it was the first English-language edition of the nearly 3,000-year-old epic poem. But do they mean the 1581 edition translated by Arthur Hall of Grantham? Or George Chapman’s later, more popular translation, the one by which most 17th-century English speakers came to the poem? They just don’t explain. And in a movie where so many things don’t make sense (How would Claire have enough food for a surprise dinner guest if she’s making steak and corn on the cob? Why do they take such pains to avoid showing Claire’s breasts but have no problem displaying the breasts of a high school girl? Do allergies really work like that?) the scene feels like both a giant middle finger and a sincere high five to a certain kind of delighted bad-movie aficionado. I accept both. Thank you, The Boy Next Door, for the kind of moment only the cinema can deliver.
0 commentaires:
Enregistrer un commentaire