If Aaron Freidberg had mated with Hugh Hefner and a strand of amoebic dysentery, and spawned a half-brained imbecile with a penis for a forehead, Penis-head would’ve managed to direct a movie more worthwhile than Miss March. As it stands, director/stars Zach Cregger and Trevor Moore (“Whitest Kids U Know”) have produced a movie that’s less entertaining and more toxic than a cold-medicine fart that makes you wish it hadn’t cleared your sinuses.
The premise: Eugene (Cregger) is a high-school senior clinging to his virginity after his brother’s lone sexual experience resulted in a mentally-challenged child who burned down his house with Eugene’s mother inside (thus saving her from having to suffer through this movie). Despite the fact that they teach an abstinence-only seminar to grade schoolers, Eugene’s girlfriend (Raquel Alessi) is itching to give it up on prom night; Eugene is likewise encouraged to rid himself of his virginal affliction by his dopey, hornball best friend, Tucker (Moore), a Playboy Magazine connoisseur and the love child of Justin Kirk and Yahoo Serious. Unfortunately, Eugene takes a spill down a flight of stairs and falls into a four-year coma before he can unload his sexual debt.
Cut to four years later: Eugene awakens from his coma after Tucker beats him on the head with a baseball bat. He’s completely atrophied and has a spastic colon, but is otherwise in decent shape, but for the knowledge he gained that his high-school sweetheart had left him to become a Playboy Centerfold. Tucker and Eugene make a pact to track her down at the Playboy mansion, a plan that is hastened after Tucker stabs his girlfriend in the face with a fork after she had a strobe-light triggered epileptic seizure during some downtown time and ended up gnawing on Tucker’s wang. The epileptic girlfriend (Molly Stanton) sics her fireman brother on Tucker; Tucker pulls the atrophied Eugene out of his coma bed, and: Road trip!
The cross-country drive is littered with characters straight out of the Penthouse Forum for Boneheads, most notably Craig Robinson’s embarrassing turn as Horsedick.mpeg, a successful rapper who made his fortunes on his hip-hop single, “Imma Fuck Me a White Bitch.” (*Spoiler: He’s missing his penis, and urinates out of a straw, which lucky filmgoers get to witness firsthand. *End spoiler*). He ultimately kicks Eugene and Tucker off his party bus, however, when Eugene shits all over it, leaving the duo to finish the trip as hitchhiking drivers to a couple of lesbians who fuck each other repeatedly (and with glass bottles) in the back seat of the car on the way to L.A., where Eugene is finally able to confront his high-school sweetie.
In addition to a ridiculous Hugh Hefner cameo (even more ridiculous than his turn in The House Bunny), there are a ton of gags coursing through Miss March; unfortunately, not a one of them is funny, unless you count a toy dog urinating in a martini glass or a man projectile spewing four years worth of runny feces all over a hospital floor. It’s more painful to watch than passing boulder-sized kidney stones through both your urethra and tear ducts simultaneously, although it’s far less satisfying. It’s sexist, insulting, demoralizing, and easily the worst movie of the year, which is no small feat up against Paul Blart and Confessions of a Shopaholic. But then again, I’d rather do donut shooters out of Paul Blart’s sweaty fat rolls than suffer another second of this idiocy.