Miss March (2009)

Miss March is the kind of shameless, pedal-to-the-floor comedy that doesn’t pretend to be tasteful—it just wants to make you laugh until you’re a little embarrassed you’re laughing at all. It takes a ridiculous premise and treats it like a mission from the gods of bad decisions, sending its sweetly stunned hero and his gloriously unfiltered best friend on a cross-country spree of escalating absurdity. The vibe is loud, raunchy, and proudly juvenile, the sort of movie you throw on when you want your brain off and your sense of humor switched to “middle school at midnight.” It’s not for anyone craving nuance or romance with real tenderness, but if you’re in the mood for crude, silly, surprisingly effective mood-lifting chaos, it delivers exactly what it promises.

Miss March is aiming for a raunchy, anything-goes road-trip comedy about a guy racing to reclaim his old life after a coma, with the kind of outrageous set pieces and shock humor it hopes will feel like a guilty pleasure. The problem is it mostly plays like a string of crude sketches without timing or wit, leaning hard on juvenile sex jokes that quickly turn repetitive and, at times, uncomfortably misogynistic rather than playfully naughty. Even if you’re generally fine with lowbrow comedies, the filmmaking feels sloppy and the characters are so thin that it’s hard to care where the trip is going. If you want a smarter or warmer rom-com, skip it; if you only need a dumb, aggressively crude time-waster and your tolerance is high, you might find a couple of moments that land.