In "G.B.F.," Being Outed by Accident Is a Ticket to Status Kate Romero/Vertical Entertainment A scene from the high school comedy "G.B.F.," directed by Darren Stein. "Never in the history of North Gateway High had any student admitted out loud to being an honest-to-goodness, proud or even slightly modest homosexual, including me and my best friend," announces Tanner (Michael J. Willett), the gay teenager who narrates the satirical farce "G.B.F." Tanner and his best friend, Brent (Paul Iacono), are classmates in an upscale suburban hotbed of adolescent social warfare that might as well be on Planet Q, for all its resemblance to an actual high school. Tanner is mortified when he is catapulted to the kind of notoriety Brent secretly covets, when a Guydar hookup app on his mislaid cellphone reveals his sexuality. That accidental outing coincides with the moment that a popular teenage magazine proclaims a gay best friend, or "G.B.F.," to be latest must-have mean-girl accessory. Overnight, the shy, drab Tanner is besieged by attention from the stereotypical "queen bitches" (his words) who lead the school's three major cliques. Here's how he describes them: Fawcett (Sasha Pieterse) is "by far the hottest girl in school and empress of the rich and the popular"; "Shley, short for Ashley (Andrea Bowen), "with her perpetually sunny Mormon disposition, rules all wearers of shiny gold crosses and goody-two-shoes"; and Caprice Winters (Xosha Roquemore), a haughty African-American goddess, is "the queen of drama." "Like neighboring warlords in a third world country," Tanner observes, "they maintained an uneasy balance of power." Banding together while vying for Tanner's favor, they engineer their pet gay boy's makeover into a fashionable dude in sunglasses, bow tie and tight pants, strutting around with a girl on each arm, although his heart isn't really in it. Fawning over Tanner, these alpha girls use their power to protect him from bullies. When Fawcett's handsome, about-to-be-ex-boyfriend threatens to beat up Tanner, she warns him that his sex life will evaporate. "I know things, like tiny, pinkie-size details," she tells the boyfriend. He replies, "You wouldn't dare." "Try me," she says. "G.B.F.," directed by Darren Stein ("Jawbreaker") from a screenplay by George Northy, is a mildly amusing live-action cartoon that camouflages its roiling sexual politics under a thick veneer of farce, larded with brazen innuendo. Unlike such forerunners as "Clueless" and "Mean Girls," however, this movie, doesn't have a believable moment in it. "G.B.F." works its concept to death as its silly story builds to a prom scene that revolves around a tepid, underwhelming homage to "Carrie." If the well-coordinated performances are decent caricatures, none are outstanding. The best moments belong to Megan Mullally as the closeted Brent's overly supportive mother, who arranges a television marathon of gay movies for them to watch together and offers her running commentary on "Brokeback Mountain." In a cringe-worthy moment, she even advises her son, "Get it together, girl." "G.B.F." is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian) for sexual references and double entendres.