Starring Jennifer Lopez and Ryan Guzman. Rated 14A. Now playing.

The Boys Next Door is an awesome movie. Maxwell Caulfield and Charlie Sheen were perfect as angst-ridden teens on a murderous rampage in Penelope Spheeris’s jarring study of the underside of the American…

What’s that? This is supposed to be a review of The Boy Next Door? Singular? You mean that cheesy new potboiler about a beautiful MILF who has sex with a hunky teen, who then goes all Fatal Attraction on her ass?

Alrighty, then.

The silliness starts when recently separated high-school English teacher Claire Peterson (Jennifer Lopez) has trouble getting her garage door up and 19-year-old Noah (the one-note Ryan Guzman)—who’s moved in next door to care for his ailing uncle—steps in and gets it up for her. Next thing you know, he’s off to the hardware store with Claire’s impressionable teenaged son in tow to find a garage door opener part and observe the skateboarding bully (the miscast Adam Hicks of TV’s Zeke and Luther) he’ll soon beat the crap out of.

After Noah’s kindness and bonding with her kid wins over Claire’s heart, the display of his sculpted bod fixing a car gets her motor running. When he calls her up because he can’t cook a chicken and she pops over to help, a few drinks lead to a close inspection of that lusty make-out scene they teased you with in the trailer.

Waking up to instant regret, Claire refuses breakfast in bed and gets the hell out, but psycho Noah’s having none of it. He enrolls in her classics course so he can stalk her while comparing Homer to Zeppelin and leave images of their tryst lying around everywhere.

Much creeping about in kitchens and basements and the requisite jump-scares lead to one of the corniest climactic showdowns in film history, although it does introduce the EpiPen as a new weapon of last resort.

Sorry, J.Lo, but since you also had the gall to produce this shameless turkey, your nickname now is J.New-Low.