Movie Review: Miss March

By Matthew Huntley

March 26, 2009

Why don't you believe that I'm Jim Carrey?

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Once you accept Miss March wants nothing more than to be a gross-out, over-the-top sex comedy, you'll realize its premise isn't so bad, nor is its execution. The movie made me laugh, sort of, and there were times when I found its humor unpredictable - rare for today's comedies. Perhaps with better performances and a screenplay that wasn't but a mere compilation of other teen comedies (American Pie, Road Trip, any various Kevin Smith films), Miss March might have won me over in the end. As is, it only comes close.

The movie follows Eugene (Zach Cregger) and Tucker (Trevor Moore), a pair of dorky high school seniors who incessantly think about sex, albeit in different ways. Eugene is responsible, uptight and a virgin - he and his girlfriend, Cindi (Raquel Alessi), give assemblies to kids about the dangers of pre-marital sex. Tucker is more of a party animal and class clown - he'll sleep with any girl who's desperate enough.

To Eugene's surprise, Cindi tells him she's ready to go all the way, and despite his fear of contracting an STD, he promises to have sex with her on prom night. But just before he's about to "become a man," he and Tucker do several shots of whiskey, which causes Eugene to fall down the basement stairs and lapse into a coma.

Four years later, Eugene wakes up to Tucker hitting him over the head with a baseball bat (it would seem Tucker is the only one looking after him now). When Eugene asks where Cindi is, they discover she's posing nude in the latest issue of Playboy as Miss March. Even though his muscles have atrophied and his bowels are uncontrollable, Eugene makes it his mission to travel cross-country to the Playboy Mansion so he can win Cindi back and finally get laid.


I mentioned the premise isn't as bad as it sounds. It's stupid, yes, but it's also harmless. What saves Miss March from being a total abomination on our intelligence is that its two heroes are actually likable and good-hearted. We don't feel betrayed or embarrassed watching them. As Eugene and Tucker, Cregger and Moore not only star in the movie, but they also directed and co-wrote it. The two aren't much of actors, in fact they're pretty bad, but as directors and writers, they show ambition. They pace the movie well and give it energy and rhythm when it's needed.

There will be many people who think I'm being way too generous with my words, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't laugh during Miss March, and for a movie containing a hip-hop artist character named horsed*ck.mpeg (who raps non-sensical lyrics); shots of feces; lesbians with relentless sexual urges; and a discouraging shot of a male sex organ, the movie is surprisingly inoffensive. How can that be? I guess it's the high spirit and silliness in which these scenes are presented, or maybe I just have a sick mind. Bottom line is the movie is goofy and insane, but you go along with a point.

Clearly, Miss March is far from perfect, but I think with a bigger budget, a more fully realized story and better actors, Cregger and Moore have the potential to make a comedy that's more uproarious and of a higher caliber, perhaps even more original. At least Miss March was promising enough to make me look forward to seeing such a movie.



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