The Boy

The Boy, from director William Brent Bell, and every bit as uninteresting as its title suggests, features Lauren Cohan as Greta, a boring American who takes a job as a nanny in the British countryside. But when she finds out the boy she’s tasked with taking care of is a goddamn doll and not, in fact, a flesh-and-blood real boy, she decides to stick around because that’s what you do when you have a ridiculously contrived and convoluted set up where the main character has to be bait-and-switched and dumped off in the middle of nowhere for the movie to even happen.

Might as well have had her ship-wrecked on a fuckin’ island. Maybe her plane crashes over Boringshire, England, or wherever she’s supposed to be. Ya know. Something subtle.

It takes about four minutes for the movie to even pretend that it’s going to start. Like a full four minutes. It takes four minutes just to show the main character arriving at the house where the movie is set. Three minutes of her silently being taxied to the middle of the British countryside, and another minute for her to get inside. And then, she just wanders around the house when she’s supposed to be waiting in the parlor for the owners and flirts with the grocery boy for like, five minutes.

Might easily be the most peaceful–dare I say, “relaxing”–horror movie I’ve ever seen.

Nothing happens. Ten minutes, and nothing happens. I don’t even know why she’s here or what’s going on. All I see is someone going on the world’s lamest vacation. But then at almost exactly ten minutes in, we find out that the old couple who owns the house thinks a creepy doll is their son. So either they’re senile as shit, or some spooky shit is going on. And either way, I’m bored as hell.

Ten minutes to show me what all the posters and cover art and thumbnails and shit already showed me before I even pushed play.

Fuck this movie. Fuck these people. Fuck this doll. I’m going home.

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