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  Miss March

Starring: Zach Cregger, Trevor Moore, Craig Robinson, Raquel Alessi

Directed by: Zach Cregger, Trevor Moore

Produced by: Tom Jacobson, Steven J. Wolfe, Tobie Haggerty, Vincent Cirrincone, Bill Mechanic

Written by: Zach Cregger, Trevor Moore

Distributor: Fox Searchlight Pictures

     Do you think you’d find the image of three catheters extending from a guy’s pelvis funny? Wait, before you respond, there’s more! Get this: the guy’s name is “Horsedick.MPEG”, and he’s a celebrity. Laughing yet? But he’s played by Craig Robinson of Pineapple Express and “The Office” fame! Robinson’s always funny, right?

     You’re not even chuckling? Well I didn’t either when I saw that big third-act pay-off gag in Miss March, a humorless, low-budget disaster that Fox—under its prized Searchlight label, no less—has insanely decided to give a wide release. What exactly the studio saw in the movie—I can only imagine a pitch along the lines of “It’ll be our R-rated Napoleon Dynamite!”—we’ll never know.

     Other than Robinson, Miss March has no stars. It comes from the comedy troupe “The Whitest Kids U Know,” which has its own show on IFC, but I doubt the picture will earn the channel any new subscribers.

     The plot comes right from the straight-to-DVD American Pie spin-off playbook. When Miss March opens, we watch high-school nerd Eugene (Zach Cregger) as he preps to lose his virginity to girlfriend Cindi (Raquel Alessi), who’s disproportionately more attractive in the way that only the movies will allow. But not so fast. While Cindi waits up in the bedroom, a drunk Eugene falls in a freak accident that lands him in a four-year coma.

     When Eugene wakes up in the hospital, only best-bud Tucker (Trevor Moore) is there by his side. His father has left the state and the once-pure Cindi is now—duh duh duh—a nude model for Playboy magazine. Desperate to get his girlfriend back, Eugene joins porn-aficionado Tucker on a cross-country road-trip to California’s Playboy Mansion to find Cindi at Hef’s biggest bash.

     Along the way, all of the expected R-rated misadventures ensue. But Miss March is a lot more offensive than the average low-rent skin-flick—and not just because those behind the movie had the gall to rip ticket-buyers off by providing it a somewhat-credible theatrical release. (Had the movie gone straight to DVD, I would’ve never seen it and would’ve considered it harmless.) Miss March’s true vileness rests in the fact that the movie’s entire purpose is to be foul. Every step of the way—from the inciting incident to the inevitable Playboy Mansion-set finale—Cregger and Moore (who wrote and directed in addition to acting) try to be as offensive as possible for no other reason than to be offensive. The language is filthy, the physical gags are gross—and none of it is funny. I’m all for political incorrectness and raunch when they’re done right, but Cregger and Moore assume that these features are automatically funny, much like teenagers obsessed with fart and gay jokes. If the catheter gag I opened this review with didn’t strike you as hilarious, then you’re sure to find the rest of Miss March downright revolting.

     Beyond the uninspired, irritating content and the obnoxious delivery, Miss March has only one thing left: half-naked, attractive women. And when you realize you can get that for free on the Internet, minus all of the insufferable extra baggage, you also realize there’s no reason for the movie to exist, let alone receive a wide release. If you’re by chance actually looking for a quality comedy involving Playboy, look no further than last year’s The House Bunny, which actually showed an understanding of wit and taste.

-Danny Baldwin, Bucket Reviews

Review Published on: 3.11.2009

Screened on: 2.19.2009 at the UltraStar Mission Valley 7 in San Diego, CA.


Miss March is rated R and runs 89 minutes.

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