“The Loneliest Boy in the World” is a modern fairytale – with zombies. A satire and a celebration of family values, the imagery of horror films, suburban life, the American Dream, and the ultimate taboo; death.
“The Loneliest Boy in the World” is a kitschy ’80s outing that attempts to recreate John Waters’ kooky subversion, with John Hughes’s angst, all under a Tim Burton gothic goofiness. The set is covered in pink wallpaper, mugs are adorned with catchphrases, and “Alf” reruns appear nightly on the character’s television. Half of the sets look like they were stolen from “Edward Scissorhands.” While showcasing his many influences, director Martin Owen fails to commit to anything fully or thoughtfully, developing these quirks into something meaningful.
Oliver (Max Harwood) is the titular loneliest boy. He is friendless and parentless. He scares away any people that try to chat with him due to his off-putting nature. Oliver decides the best way to make new friends is to dig up some old ones. Luckily for Oliver, a plane crash leaves plenty of fresh corpses available for friendship. He heads to the local cemetery, where his parents are buried, and grabs several people. Forming his own family, Oliver seeks affirmation and romantic advice. For such a queer aesthetic, it was bizarre to see such conformist characters.
There is a lot to skewer, but broad acting is a significant point of contention. I was shocked to see “Spring Breakers” alum Ashley Benson in this. Lazy jokes, like propping up a dead body – à la “Weekend at Bernie’s” – fell incredibly flat. I was even more surprised to see Emilio Estevez and two others co-wrote the story. Being set in Wales was odd since most of the characters spoke with American accents. I can appreciate DIY filmmakers but the limitations of its low-budget production come through in multiple ways. Alas, “The Loneliest Boy in the World” has more plot holes than a cemetery.
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