MOVIE REVIEW : DARK SIDE OF HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION

Penelope Spheeris’ new film begins with a parade of mug shots of such notorious mass murderers as the Hillside Strangler and the Son of Sam.

We hear the experts talk (“They confuse sex and aggression,” one says) and we listen to the psychos speak, their voices icy and distant. But what really catches our eye is the pair of empty picture frames in this rogues’ gallery. It’s Spheeris’ sly way of making room for the heroes of “The Boys Next Door” (Beverly Center Cineplex), a provocative new film about a two-man band of outsiders who celebrate their high school graduation by embarking on a vicious killing spree.

One of Hollywood’s most uncompromising directors, Spheeris has always been fascinated by outsiders. Having explored the seamy underside of punk life in “Decline of Western Civilization” and “Suburbia,” this time out she digs even deeper, etching a grim, unsettling portrait of two teen-agers tormented by frustration and despair. “The Boys Next Door” is a dark, forbidding vision--perhaps too harsh for audiences accustomed to more frivolous pictures of teen high jinks. But its lack of sentimentality gives it a rugged moral force--it doesn’t soften the twisted fury that sends these kids careening into a crazed death trip.

Stranded in a small, anonymous town five hours outside Los Angeles, Roy (Maxwell Caulfield) and Bo (Charlie Sheen) are preparing to graduate from high school. Their teacher, full of platitudes about progress and humanity, gives them a friendly send-off. The kids don’t buy it for a second. Watching them stare at a huge factory smokestack one night, you sense they’ve realized what a bleak future the town holds for them. Excluded from all the in-crowd graduation parties, they grab a wad of cash and head for L.A.

Guzzling beer and ogling the girls on Hollywood Boulevard, they could be any two kids cruising for a thrill. But when Roy gets short-changed at a gas station, he turns into a raging baby bull, beating up the attendant in the first of a series of escalating, almost random acts of violence.

This descent is particularly chilling because Spheeris shows us just how sudden and unreal a brutal murder can be, replacing the customary gory choreography and booming sound effects with the strange, lopsided rhythms of a real-life homicide. The real shocker is the kids’ nonchalant attitude toward the most vicious escapades. They’re like acrobats who’ve walked the high wire so long they’ve grown accustomed to the sway.

Spheeris often has problems keeping the film on an even keel, especially in several awkward scenes involving the police, who talk more like psychologists than homicide men. But both young actors give stellar performances, as does Patti D’Arbanville as a lonely bar-hopper who befriends the boys late one night. Sheen is marvelous as a kid scared of his own desires--eyes wide open, paralyzed with fear, he looks like a deer caught in the glare of a hunter’s headlights. And Caulfield’s portrayal is positively scary. Watching him case a joint, his jaw clenched with joyless determination, you can almost hear the static rattling around in his attic.

Spheeris is not a radiant stylist, but it’s a limitation that works in her favor here. Free of MTV pyrotechnics and false poetic drama, “Boys” crackles with an intensity and passion that draw us into these kids’ dark orbit. When we watch Roy fumble with a set of Tarot cards, then disgustedly toss them to the floor, it’s easy to understand why he’s so unconcerned about what predictions they might contain. His future is all used up.

‘THE BOYS NEXT DOOR’

A Republic Entertainment International presentation of a New World Picture. Producers Sandy Howard, Keith Rubenstein. Director Penelope Spheeris. Writers Glen Morgan, James Wong. Camera Arthur Albert. Music George S. Clinton. Editor Andy Horvitch. Art director Jo-Ann Chorney. With Maxwell Caulfield, Charlie Sheen, Patti D’Arbanville, Christopher McDonald, Hank Garrett, Paul C. Dancer.

Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

MPAA rating: R (under 17 requires an accompanying parent or adult guardian).