Good Boys

There is something inherently, primally funny about a child swearing, but Good Boys isn’t just a 90-minute YouTube compilation of kids saying the F-word. It’s a movie that arrived at a very specific crossroads in cinema history: 2019. This was the tail-end of the "theatrical comedy" era, right before the pandemic pushed mid-budget laughs almost exclusively to streaming services like Netflix or Hulu. Watching it now, I’m struck by how much it feels like a glorious, foul-mouthed dinosaur—a movie that demands to be seen with a crowd of people all gasping at the same inappropriate joke.

I actually watched this for the third time while my neighbor was power-washing his driveway right outside my window, and the rhythmic shhhhhh of the water provided a strangely meditative soundtrack to a scene involving a stolen drone and a frantic chase through a mall. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

The Holy Trinity of Middle School

The film centers on the "Bean Bag Boys"—Max, Lucas, and Thor—who are essentially the three archetypes of pre-teen anxiety. Jacob Tremblay, whom I previously only knew as the kid who made me sob uncontrollably in Room (2015), proves he has incredible comedic timing as Max. He’s the group’s "romantic," desperate to learn how to kiss before a big party. Brady Noon plays Thor, the aspiring singer who’s terrified of being uncool, and Keith L. Williams absolutely steals the entire movie as Lucas, the moral compass of the group who is physically incapable of lying without having a minor panic attack.

Their chemistry is the engine here. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a middle-school locker room that actually smells like Febreze—sweet, well-intentioned, but undeniably gross. When they accidentally break a drone belonging to Max's dad, their quest to replace it leads them into a world of "sex-swings" (which they mistake for a high-end nursing home attachment) and frat-house drug deals. The humor works because the kids are genuinely innocent; they use adult words as if they’re incantations they don’t quite understand the power of.

A Box Office Unicorn

In an era dominated by the MCU and endless "legacy sequels," Good Boys was a massive outlier. Produced by the Point Grey team (Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, the minds behind Superbad and Pineapple Express), it was a gamble that paid off. With a modest budget of $20 million, it raked in over $111 million worldwide. It was the first original R-rated comedy to open at #1 at the domestic box office in over three years—a feat that felt like a victory for everyone who misses seeing comedies on the big screen.

The marketing campaign was brilliant, leaning heavily into the "Original Tagline" mentioned above: "You must be this tall to see this movie." Because the stars were actually 12 and 13 during filming, they technically weren't allowed to see the R-rated finished product without a parent. This meta-irony fueled the social media buzz, making it a "must-watch" event for the 18-34 demographic who grew up on Superbad but were now looking for something that captured the terrifying transition of the "Z" generation.

The Heart Beneath the Filth

What I appreciate most about Gene Stupnitsky’s direction is that he doesn't let the gimmick overwhelm the story. Underneath the jokes about "S-straps" and "sip-cards," there’s a really touching look at how friendships change when puberty hits. It’s about that scary moment when you realize you and your best friends might be heading in different directions. While Molly Gordon and Midori Francis provide great antagonistic energy as the teenage girls the boys accidentally terrorize, the movie never loses sight of the central trio.

The script, co-written by Lee Eisenberg, who worked on The Office, has that signature blend of cringe-humor and genuine warmth. I’ve noticed that modern comedies often try too hard to be "important" or "subversive," but Good Boys is content just being a very funny, slightly rowdy adventure. It captures the frantic, life-or-death stakes of being twelve years old—where a broken drone feels like the end of the world and a first kiss is the ultimate frontier.

Ultimately, this movie succeeds because it treats its young characters with more respect than the rating might suggest. It’s a loud, vulgar, and surprisingly sweet time capsule of the late 2010s, proving that original comedies can still find an audience if they’ve got enough heart (and enough curse words). If you’re looking for a quick 90-minute escape that will make you glad you aren’t in middle school anymore, this is it. It’s a raucous reminder of that brief, messy window of time before adulthood officially starts to ruin everything.