Director: Jonathan Levine
Starring: Amber Heard, Anson Mount, Whitney Able
I was recently left to babysit for an entire Saturday so I thought Ava and I could catch up on some movie watching. I asked her she was in the mood to watch, but since she can’t talk yet I made the decision for her. We were to have an afternoon packed with horror.
We started with All the Boys Love Mandy Lane. The title alone really only suggests three possible options for a plotline:
- A bunch of teenage boys really like a particular street.
- A bunch of teenage boys really like the slutty girl in school and she uses her sexuality to make them do crazy things.
- A bunch of teenage boys really like the quiet, shy, innocent virgin girl in school and they do crazy things anyway.
Option three is probably the most accurate. So here’s the quick synopsis, followed by some thoughts on the flick.
Mandy Lane is a hot blond. Every boy in school wants to sleep with her but she’s not giving it up. This apparently literally drives the boys insane because they start doing dumb shit, like jumping off of roof tops into swimming pools. SPOILER ALERT: the guy doesn’t make it, probably because he was focusing too much on Mandy’s ass in Physics class instead of paying attention to the lecture on arc of descent, but I’m not sure.
Seriously, this is probably the most interesting scene in the movie.
So anyhoo, Mandy is invited to a remote ranch to party with what is basically the Breakfast Club, only not as cool or talented. The group starts getting picked off one by one, and not in any particular order until–of course–only Mandy remains. Then there’s this really artsy, indy film festival surprise ending that probably amazes 5 out of 10 people.
Those 5 people are nothing like me.
This film was surrounded by s lot of hype. It took years to get released and I’d heard a lot of good things about it (from those other 5 people). My opinion is that this movie was nothing special. The storyline is generic, and so is the acting. The killer is revealed extremely early on, which pretty much takes what little wind there was to begin with right out of the film’s sails. It was extremely easy to predict the killer’s identity. There’s a twist ending that isn’t altogether surprising either, or necessary for that matter.
This one reeked of film festival runoff. Alas, all the boys do not love Mandy Lane, and the ones that do are probably a bunch of skinny jean wearing, sloppy moustache growing hipsters who are predisposed to love anything that comes out of Cannes.