REVIEW: Miss March [2009]

Rating: R | Runtime: 90 minutes
Release Date: March 13th, 2009 (USA)
Studio: Fox Searchlight Pictures
Director(s): Zach Cregger & Trevor Moore
Writer(s): Zach Cregger & Trevor Moore / Dennis Haggerty, Ryan Homchick & Thomas Mimms (story)

Abstinence Now.

Who the hell are Zach Cregger and Trevor Moore? Did two guys who have a television show that debuted on a music video network seriously get the backing to make a feature length film? Is Hugh Hefner allowing anyone access to the Playboy Mansion these days? Does Craig Robinson really get paid that little for doing “The Office”? I have all these questions and just one answe: I guess so.

Miss March, a movie that brings back the use of bodily fluids as a running gag to the big screen, hits theaters in America with a wide release. I am stunned. Completely stunned. These guys are my heroes because, as bad as this film is, people will go see it. I’m sure they have a following from “The Whitest Kids U Know” and most horny males love the idea of Playboy, so, despite the R-rating, this thing will probably make back its, surely, low budget and more.

We might be looking at the newest comedy writers/producers in the world of Hollywood “ka-ching”. Two kids under thirty riding high on infantile jokes and stilted acting—it’s exactly what America’s youth loves today. For some reason Scary Movie-esque nonsense brings in more bucks than the Judd Apatow brand more often than not. Bravo, boys. You saw the truth and went for it. Mediocrity reigns supreme.

With a runtime under 90-minutes you can’t be too disappointed. I mean you wanted to see it right? You volunteered your time. So, there must have been something drawing you in. It’s not like I didn’t laugh either. There are a couple genuinely funny moments wherein the gross-out fecal and urinary gags even brought a smile to my face. If not for the absurdity of what we’re seeing but the contagious nature of a packed room laughing. Peer pressure is a bitch. You know you shouldn’t laugh. You don’t want to laugh. But the sound emanates anyway.

Robinson definitely helps this because he’s always great. Being a formidable presence, his ability to act embarrassed and weak works with his big man attitude. Like most of the film, his role of Horsedick.mpeg is very over-the-top, but it succeeds nonetheless … until a late revelation tacked on as a brain-fart the boys probably laughed hysterically about during a drunken script session. Sorry, it wasn’t that funny. But the girl flying out the window? That never gets old no matter how many times you watch the trailer.

Don’t let me forget “Reno 911” star Cedric Yarbrough either—the only other actor I had seen before. His deadpan is pitch-perfect, especially as the doctor who’s watched over the protagonist the past four years while he was in a coma. Oh, I should at least mention the plot when bringing up plot points.

Cregger’s Eugene is in the hospital because, right when he was about to lose his virginity on prom night, he allows the asinine Tucker (directing cohort Moore) to get him drunk enough to fall down the stairs and have all sorts of objects fall on his head. (Robinson’s mention of this incident is pretty funny later—so nonchalant and funny).

Awakened by Tucker four years later (they’re homies … “lock it”), the two discover Eugene’s ex posed in Playboy after leading a high school life of abstinence and good wholesome girl-next-door sensibilities (boy, has that term mutated into its exact opposite thanks to Hef). The quest therefore begins: a cross-country trip to find the girl he loved. Will he bask in the glory of succeeding or will he despise her for she’s become—something eerily similar to his brother’s life choices, itself a story that’s far and away the best part of the film? Abstinence Now for sure.

So, to fill up space while the boys head to LA and the Bunny House, we receive loosely strung together gags to form the semblance of a film. I liked the epilepsy bit (especially Tucker’s ignorance to what the condition entails), loved the aforementioned brother thread, found the lesbian diversion so fantastically absurd that it brought a smile, and enjoyed the stereotyped firemen’s quest for blood. I’m patting myself on the back for finding so many things to call enjoyable amongst the mess.

I’ll hand it to Cregger and Moore—they have a good rapport and understand their comedy. They even seem to have the chops to pull it off. Mostly. They do too often seem to just be giving line readings like Moore’s (I paraphrase) “Well how did everything end up with you and Cindi?” possessing so much inflection that you know he’s only saying it for the audience to find out. The dialogue is clunky and the performances lacking, save Robinson. Even Hef is awkward while attempting to mock himself.

The jokes repeat themselves so often that you begin to recall how weak the laugh was ten minutes ago when it was delivered the first time. So, how could it work better now? Raquel Alessi’s Cindi is attractive and fun with her “good girl” façade early and Molly Stanton’s Candance (unlucky enough to call herself Tucker’s girlfriend) is very entertaining. She stands out from her first appearance to the stabbing to the manhunt. Cregger and Moore wrote her so three-dimensionally that it’s a shame they left so little for themselves.

I understand that idiocy brings chuckles, but when you make it so prevalent in your leads—the two people onscreen almost every second of the film—it gets obnoxiously old. It doesn’t matter what I say, though, you’ll either see Miss March or not. Me hating on it probably just makes you want to see it more.