Wes Anderson makes highly detailed, whimsical and richly textured children’s stories for adults, films that evoke an old picture book or model train set from our youth.

The Grand Budapest Hotel is in that same vein, a colorful story about the concierge of a once majestic property (Ralph Fiennes) and his efforts to tutor a protégé (Toni Revolore).

Here, Anderson accentuates the stylish (the scenery approximates toy furniture) and emphasizes the screwball.  Missing, however, are the moments of true human connection that punctuate his earlier works, the moment in Rushmore when Jason Schwartzman shows his hurt feelings or introduces his father, or in Moonrise Kingdom, when the children kiss or Edward Norton reveals his fears of failure as a scout master, or even in The Life Aquatic, when Bill Murray tries to woo Cate Blanchett.

Grand Budapest is Anderson’s non-animated The Fantastic Mr. Fox, a fantastic film,  So too this film, but it’s Anderson’s least affecting picture.

Not as funny as the first one, mainly because it is too self referential and a great deal messier, but plenty funny anyhow. The plot is the same – Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill have to crack a drug ring, only this time, they’re at college. Highlights include Hill’s turn as a Hispanic gang member and later, his impromptu def jam poetry performance at a coffee house, as well as Channing’s bromance with the college quarterback. For better or worse, and mainly better, these guys may be the next Benny and Hope. Downsides include too much Ice Cube and a surprisingly leaden performance from the usually hilarious Jillian Bell (Workaholics, East Bound and Down). You could see this in the theater and get your money’s worth or wait for video and enjoy all the more with the extra $25 in your pocket.

Seemingly improvised throughout, the sequel is alternately lazy and uproarious, but by the end, more the former. The Channel 4 news gang (Will Ferrell, Steve Carell, David Koechner, and Paul Rudd) have reunited, moving from San Diego to New York City, to take the helm of the graveyard shift on the first 24 hour cable news channel. Soon, Ferrell’s Ron Burgundy is back on top, discarding his friends, cementing his fall (he is even stricken blind), only to return triumphant.

In the first film, Ferrell’s bosses (Fred Willard and SNL alum Chris Parnell) held their own as comedians, contributing to the fun. Ferrell’s new boss is the sassy, Pam Grieresque Meagan Good, who is placed in the film for a painful scene where Ferrell visits her family and tries to “act street.” She’s not funny, but she’s not alone.  Harrison Ford, Drake, Kanye West, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Jim Carrey, Sacha Baron Cohen and others appear, most for a reprise of the first film’s news team rumble, but the melee is woefully disappointing. Gone are the unexpected trident and grenade, the scores from Star Trek and West Side Story, replaced by celebrities who just wanted in. Sure, Ford turning into a werewolf is pretty cool, and who doesn’t laugh at an unexpected minotaur, but these guys aren’t very funny.  And Liam Neeson and Marion Cottilard? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Will Smith?  He wasn’t even funny in The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Even Vince Vaughn’s return as Wes Mantooth is a little dull. Speaking of dull, Kristen Wiig as Steve Carell’s love interest is Sominex.

Director Adam McKay also tries to deliver a lesson about the degradation of the news. He usually appends his simplistic political tracts to the end of his goofy movies, so you could walk out of The Other Guys or The Campaign while the credits rolled and he lamented Wall Street greed or the Citizens United decision.

Other bits fare better, including Ferrell’s interactions with his young son and his bottle feeding of a baby shark; Carell’s panic at the loss of his legs on a green screen; and especially, the news team’s smoking of crack on the air.

Jason Bateman’s directorial debut is bracingly cynical and consistently funny. Bateman stars as a jerk who has found the loophole that allows him to enter and win kids’ spelling bees, making it all the way to the nationally televised (on PBS) Golden Quill finals. On the way, he torments the journalist covering/funding his story (Kathryn Hahn), the competition director (Allison Janney), its founder (Phillip Baker Hall) and various parents, but he also befriends a young competitor (the wide-eyed and charming Rohan Chand). At just under 90 minutes, it never nears wearing out its welcome, and Bateman’s hand is steady. There are a few flat notes. Rachael Harris reprises her role from The Hangover as another repressed, psychotic type, and again, her performance is too much (as is her comeuppance). Bateman’s engagement with his child’s competitors is brutally funny, but his treatment of one girl, while a testament to his commitment, is perhaps too painful to endure. These, however, are minor problems. Bateman has depth beyond being a mere crank, and Chand’s insouciance blends perfectly with his deadpan amorality.