So much of Good Boys is so funny, insightful and effortlessly inclusive that I almost wish it wasn’t such an apologetic R-rated comedy. The film has been sold as essentially Superbad for the middle school set, and there’s some loose truth to that, especially as Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg are among its producers. But it does its own thing, offering kids who are, true to the title, genuinely good and decent youngsters who just happen to swear up a storm and ask awkward questions about gender relations. This is an R-rated comedy with the soul of a PG (or, if we’re honest, PG-13) coming-of-age story.
Directed by Gene Stupnitsky and co-written by Stupnitsky and Lee Eisenberg, Good Boys starts on a familiar note. Three sixth grade boys, lifelong friends thus far, get invited to a kissing party. But they don’t know much about kissing, which is especially a problem for Max (Jacob Tremblay) since his crush (Millie Davis) will be there. But the other two, Thor (Brady Noon) and Lucas (Keith L. Williams) have their own issues. Thor is a terrific singer, but he’s considering giving it up after being teased by his peers. And Lucas’ parents (Lil Rel Howery and Retta) have announced plans to divorce.
An attempt to spy on two neighboring high school girls (Molly Gordon and Midori Francis) to see how kissing is done results in the loss of an expensive drone belonging to Max’s dad (Will Forte), and much of the film’s middle act concerns a quasi-Looney Tunes caper to get that drone back. There’s a drolly hysterical encounter with a deeply unconcerned beat cop (Sam Richardson) and a set piece resembling a real-world version of Frogger. Hannah and Lilly pop up like exaggerated (from the point-of-view of these youngsters) cartoon antagonists, even as they are in the right (Francis gives chase in a moment that would do Tom Cruise proud).
Like Booksmart, there are no real villains in this open-hearted farce. With all the talk about how films this year are dealing with toxic masculinity (and, frankly, mostly flopping while doing so), Good Boys makes a case for “non-problematic” humor merely by offering characters who A) aren’t jerks and B) are aware of and unfazed by current social mores. The title is both accurate and, from a marketing standpoint, misleading. This isn’t a bawdy raunchfest about very young kids who think, talk and act in unthinkably R-rated ways. They may use four-letter words, but the comedy comes from the fact that they are still relatively decent kids.
The “must find the drone before dad gets home” plot eventually resolves itself, and the third act goes in a surprisingly poignant direction. Thor and Lucas have their own problems and their own identities, and how that threatens (or strengthens) the “Bean Bag Boys’ bond forms the bedrock of Good Boys‘ climax(es). The notion that you’re not the same person today that you were in the sixth grade is a potent one, especially as the film deals with how its youngsters can embrace their own personalities, interests and identities without abandoning each other. There are no easy answers, and Good Boys doesn’t try to provide them.
Nitpicks aside (Max’s dad gives his son a scolding that’s crueler than it probably intended to be), Universal’s $20 million Good Boys makes each of its 89 minutes count. I appreciated how Max is the only one of the three who is obsessed with girls (or boys), and I enjoyed both the set up/pay off to a school anti-bullying group. In an ideal world, this would be the kind of R-rated film that flocks of young teens would still get to see in theaters or in post-theatrical, and that may happen. I’m not sure who a film like this is (demographically) for, Good Boys is a good movie.
