According to Wikipedia the definition of coma is “a profound state of unconsciousness.” They can be caused by head trauma or any number of phenomenon and they are, as The Smiths sang in their top twenty hit Girlfriend in a Coma, “really serious.” They are also an unlikely inspiration for all manner of pop culture confections from pop songs—both Guns and Roses and Stone Temple Pilots have sung about them—to this weekend’s Miss March, a comedy about a twenty-something who comes out of a four-year coma to find his high-school sweetheart has become a centerfold in Playboy magazine.
This is what I call a Farch Comedy, the kind of movie that only seems to be released in the vast wasteland that is the February-March stretch. It’s a movie so unyieldingly unfunny, so relentlessly insipid it makes Dumb and Dumber seem like Les Amants magnifiques.
Starring two guys you’ve never heard of, and likely won’t hear much from in future, Miss March is one of the most annoying films to come down the pike in a long while.
Instead wasting time by writing a proper review for this piece of crap I have decided to simply transcribe the notes I took during the screening, word by word, minute by minute as I endured this chunk of cinematic hell.
7:15 pm “Utterly without charm…”
7:21 pm “Has all the production value of a Platinum Blonde rock video…”
7:34 pm “The woman next to me said, ‘This is disgusting…’”
7:38 pm “The only thing I can think of more annoying than the character of Tucker would be if James Blunt ever became a telemarketer…”
7:40 pm “This isn’t a story; it’s an idea… and a bad one at that.”
7:45 pm “Still utterly without charm…”
7:55 pm “First walk out. Two women just packed up and left.”
7:56 pm “Buy eggs and milk on way home…”
8:05 pm “The most famous person in the movie—other than Hef—is Craig Robinson, the guy from The Office who was arrested last year for possession of methamphetamine. I wonder what he was on when he agreed to do this movie…”
8:08 pm “Hefner looks like the Crypt Keeper and is obviously reading form cue cards.”
8:25 pm “There is a cringe worthy Crying Game-style revelation that’ll put you off drinking straws forever.”
8:28 pm “I can feel the will to live slipping away…”
Miss March is a bad movie. It’s so bad I had to create new words to describe it: “sucktacular” and “badriffic.” It’s the kind of movie that mistakes asking a formerly comatose man, “How’s that atrophy coming?,” as a cutting edge gag. It’s gag worthy all right, but not in the way the filmmakers intended.