If I were a sports buff, I'm sure I would know of great career-ending debuts: Football players who stepped wrong and shattered their ankle in their first game. Baseball players, who, in their first time pitching, not only loaded the bases but then gave up a home run. Gymnasts who, in their first ever Olympic event, leapt for the vaulting horse and missed. I don't know sports, though, but I do know movies, and Miss March, the big-screen writing, directing and acting debut for Zach Creggar and Trevor Moore of the sketch comedy troupe The Whitest Kids U Know is the comedy-on-film equivalent of shattering your ankle while you give up that home run and smash your gut into the vaulting horse.
And you may ask "Really? That bad?" To which I would say, "Yes." Part of the problem may be that many comedy sketch troupes don't make it on the big-screen because of the same reasons (to continue straining our sports metaphors) many sprinters can't cut it as marathon runners. Sketches are about hustle and bustle, quick idea to quick idea, and if there's no real transition from idea to idea, scene to scene, good; makes people feel like they're getting a show. But movies should — ideally, anyhow — cohere and work as movies, as stories that go from point 'a' to point 'b,', and have transitions between scenes and characters who show some kind of development. But Miss March has none of that.
Instead, Miss March has poop and gratuitous nudity and plenty of sleazy grim moments, with a plot that the J. Geils Band covered better in their 1981 hit "Centerfold" in only 3 minutes. Cregger plays Eugene Bell, a high school student who's a little freaked out about sex; he's as over-informed and scared as his best-friend Tucker (Trevor Moore) is under-informed and enthusiastic. On Prom Night, Eugene's girlfriend Cindi (Raquel Alessi) really wants to go all the way — they've been together for years, and she loves him and vice-versa; scared, he has a couple shots to loosen up and promptly falls down a set of stairs and goes into a coma for four years.
Awakening from his slumber after four years, Eugene finds that Tucker is still an idiot, his dad has left town, and Cindi is featured in Playboy Magazine. (Consider it an exercise in reading comprehension to figure out which issue, specifically.) Eugene and Tucker decide to drive cross-country to the Playboy Mansion — Eugene to find and confront Cindi, and Tucker to get away from his girlfriend Candace (Molly Stanton) who he has accidentally, but egregiously, wronged. Along the way, they'll stop in to see their high school friend Phil (Craig Robinson of The Office) who has, while Eugene was away, become a megastar rapper with an unprintable name.
And every part of Miss March is wrong, wrong, wrong. The plot never gets up much velocity; Tucker's such an idiot it's hard to see him as even an anti-hero; Eugene's so passive we don't care when he's struck by the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. With Moore and Cregger acting, writing and directing, it'd be easy to blame them for Miss March's failures — and we will — but I'd also blame whoever it was at Fox Searchlight who thought that giving two writer-director-actors that much freedom the first time out of the gate was a good idea.
The DVD includes the theatrical and unrated cuts, but, sincerely, it's hard to exactly determine, or care about, the differences between the two. There's almost no making-of or bonus material aside from three supposedly funny video clips, which aren't. I like Creegan and Moore in The Whitest Kids U Know (YouTube their sketch about the real facts in the death of Abraham Lincoln some time … just not at work), but Miss March — with its creepy admiration for Hugh Hefner, under-written characters, smutty tone and lazy scenes that float from limp punch line to limp punch line with nothing to hold the film together as a film — is really more of a misfire and a mistake.