MY blood runs cold at the memory of “Miss March,” a 90-minute rip-off of the J. Geils Band song “Centerfold” whose multi-hyphenate creators prove themselves actor-director-writer-failures.
The filmmakers are Zach Cregger and Trevor Moore, who appear on an obscure cable show (“The Whitest Kids U’Know”). Cregger plays a dreary dork who, in high school, inexplicably dates the hottest girl in sight. The night they plan to sleep together for the first time, he gets drunk and falls down the stairs. He winds up in a coma from which he is awakened years later by his madcap pal (Moore).
Cregger’s nonexistent screen presence suggests a guy whose showbiz ambition should be limited to working the snack table used by the crew. Meanwhile, the kinetic but equally unfunny Moore – whose acting strategy is to keep his eyeballs and mouth wide open at all times – is a lame knockoff of Jim Carrey.
The two take a road trip to find the high school sweetheart, now a Playboy model (who gets minimal screen time). They crash into signs, wear wacky clothing, burn down a motel, get chased by firemen and make sexual remarks. The dorky guy’s bowels periodically explode. For some reason, they’re friends with a black rapper (Craig Robinson, who deserves better) twice their age.
The “shocking” sex dialogue is along the lines of “You’re the last person I ever want to bang,” not that I could hear much of it over my yawns. For a horny-road-trip flick that’s actually funny, check out last year’s “Sex Drive,” which just came out on video.
Running time: 89 minutes. Rated R (raunchy humor, profanity, drug use, sex, nudity). At the Lincoln Square, the Kips Bay, the 34th Street, others.