Miss March
Rating: 
Imagine an online video. Two minutes long, there are some pretty funny jokes. You don’t mind that it is poorly shot, because it is…well an online video. Now stretch that into an hour and twenty five minutes (sadly it doesn’t feel anywhere near that short). Don’t add any jokes, keep the bad filming, and release it in theaters nationwide. The result is Miss March. The experience is so excruciating, even a thirteen year old, still suffering from the jitters of sneaking into an R-rated movie will contemplate walking out at some point in the film. I wish I had. The story surrounds Tucker and Eugene, played by Trevor Moore and Zach Creeger respectively (the duo wrote and directed as well). A staunch advocate for abstinence, Eugene promises his girlfriend that they will have sex on the night of their prom. Nervous, and perhaps second guessing himself about the whole idea, Eugene follows Tucker’s advice, and does a few rounds to calm his nerves. Now ready, he leaves to go to his waiting girlfriend but accidentally falls into the basement and subsequently into a coma. Cut to four years in the future, Tucker hits Eugene in the face with a baseball bat, bringing him out of his coma. Eugene finds out that his girlfriend is now a Playboy Playmate (specifically Miss March), and they set off to reunite Eugene with Cindi, and to fulfill Tucker’s lifelong dream of going to the Playboy mansion.
Like a typical road movie, they run into many obstacles along the way, from an epileptic girlfriend to crazed firemen. They are helped through their problems from such unlikely help as Horsedick.mpeg an MC they knew from high school whose song “I’ma love a white girl” (Radio Edit) is topping the charts. As well as two Russian lesbians who are so madly in love with each other they can’t stop having sex. If any of this sounds cliche or gimicky that’s because it is. The high point of the movie is when Eugene and Horsedick.mpeg are sharing a cigar sized joint on the “party bus”. That’s where the humor and the quality end. There are attempts at outrageous moments which fall flat on their face (a scene where Tucker stabs his girlfriend in the face while she is “going downtown” specifically comes to mind). But they never seem to realize it and keep trying the same jokes again and again for the entire length of this horror.
Miss March is the debut film of both Creeger and Moore, and it shows. It would be nice to know what the budget was, but by the poor quality of the filming, the lack of consistent lighting, and the consumer grade look of the footage, I would be tempted to guess $100,000 even though the reality is probably more like 50-75 times that number (at least). I hope this teaches film executives that success as a comedy troupe doesn’t necessarily translate into aptitude behind the camera, or even writing a screenplay. At the very least please let this give you pause before greenlighting similar projects (I’m looking at you Mr. Rice). Some of films greatest directors haven’t attended film school, and have turned out well, churning out some of the greatest achievements in film history. Mr. Creeger, and Mr. Moore, you aren’t Kubricks, and you aren’t Andersons. Please stick with your comedy skits, the world would be a better place without Miss March, but it’s too late for that. All we can hope for is to stop a similar film from getting made.
If you take anything out of this review let it be this; Miss March is utter garbage that does not deserve anyone’s time or money. Don’t ignore these words because maybe “he’s just a critic, he has no sense of humor” or “well I like mindless movies”. You will never forgive yourself for watching this movie. I promise you.