SURTALCHILGAAN DEER DARAHAD ARILJ KINO GARNA.
Executive Rob Cohen is an old hand at direct classification item, with a profession that extends from “Miami Vice” to “The Fast and the Furious,” and he rudders the Jennifer Lopez starrer “The Boy Next Door” with the apathetic accuracy of a producer who knows the region. That won’t not seem like a deadly defect, but rather to be perfectly honest, a hack may practically have been best here, infusing this senseless, somnambulant thriller script about a teacher who falls for an insane young person with some kind of panache, qualification or depravity, or even some sort of important ineptitude to liven up its sequential construction system paces. January discharges don’t get considerably more January than this, yet given its reported $4 million spending plan, “The Boy Next Door” shouldn’t have a lot of inconvenience discovering its way into the dark.
Lopez stars as Claire Peterson, a San Fernando Valley secondary teacher who has as of late isolated from her philandering spouse Garrett (John Corbett). Despite the fact that you wouldn’t know it from the faultless cosmetics and runway-prepared closet she wears while reviewing papers in her smaller than expected house, Claire is feeling lost and forlorn, and attempting to bring up her nebbishy high school child, Kevin (Ian Nelson), alone.
Help touches base through cumbersome, charming Noah (Ryan Guzman), whose swelling biceps show up onscreen a few seconds before his face does. A 19-year-old San Bernardino transplant, Noah has recently moved in adjacent to administer to his weak uncle, and notwithstanding some ambiguous references to a “mishap” in his past, he figures out how to easily wedge himself into Claire’s life through the span of around five minutes, altering her auto and carport entryway, appearing for supper, and helping Kevin pick up the certainty to converse with the area cutie. (Obviously, notwithstanding his aptitude with auto repair, he’s additionally a talented PC programmer and a kickboxer who can cite long sections of “The Iliad” from memory.)
At the point when Kevin leaves for an end of the week outdoors trip, the unavoidable happens, and Claire gets hot and overwhelming with the main nearby kid. No sooner has she endeavored the following morning’s stroll of disgrace, be that as it may, than Noah transforms on a dime into an over the top stalker, seeming unannounced at her home and some way or another getting a seat in her secondary school writing class. The film’s underlying conventional capability offers approach to out and out silliness rather rapidly, depending on nitwit plot character inspirations, “It was just a feline!” bounce alarms and PC documents that should be marked “Insidiousness Schemes, 2012-2014.”
Maybe most lethally, the screenplay (by amateur Barbara Curry) never tries to scrutinize the way of Noah’s franticness, leaving the underprepared “Venture Up” veteran Guzman loose in a critical part. It doesn’t help that his endeavors at grinning, unhinged vindictiveness are more Ace Ventura than Norman Bates, nor that he’s unmistakably 10 years more established than a portion of the on-screen characters playing his classmates, yet he has valuable little to go on.
For its financial plan, “The Boy Next Door” looks tolerably cleaned, and Cohen stages one runaway auto pursue scene with the sort of kineticism that proposes he’s hurting for another go at the “Quick” establishment.