Simplicity can be the most effective method sometimes, especially in the case of Ron Mann’s documentary Altman. Instead of taking an ambitious approach to legendary director Robert Altman’s life, Mann shows the life and career of his subject with a concise, linear presentation. Framing the film around the definition of “Altmanesque,” Altman goes through the filmmaker’s work one at a time in chronological order, starting with his work on television up to his swan song A Prairie Home Companion. Through this (what appears to be) basic approach, Mann creates a touching tribute to one of film’s greatest directors, a profile that never feels hagiographic because it lets the work speak for itself.

It also lets Altman speak on his own behalf. Culling from hours upon hours of interviews and footage taken before Altman’s death, Mann ends up turning Altman into the posthumous narrator of his own biography. After leaving the Air Force, Altman took up writing before lying his way into directing industrial films, a time of his life he refers to as his film school. From there he directed The Delinquents, and that led him into doing TV work through the 50s and 60s. This is the same time when Altman met his wife Kathryn who, along with other members of Altman’s family, take over narrating duties from time to time.

According to Altman’s wife, pushback from producers over Altman’s attempts to add realism to the shows he worked on (including one time when producers refused his suggestion to cast a black actor in a lead role) led him to quit television altogether, making his way into film instead. That didn’t turn out so well at first, with the head of Warner Brothers kicking him off of the 1967 film Countdown. The reason? After watching footage of Altman’s work on the film, the studio head was horrified to discover he had actors “talking at the same time.”

These kinds of neat anecdotes from Altman and his family make up a lot of the film, something fans of Hollywood gossip will thoroughly enjoy hearing about. These stories, mostly involving techniques used by Altman on his films (including his ground breaking use of the eight-track stereo sound system in California Split) or battles with producers and studios, also paint a vivid picture of the kind of filmmaker Altman was. His films were all over the place in terms of genre, whether it was a war movie like M*A*S*H or a Western like McCabe and Mrs. Miller, but they were all distinctly Altman.

Also unique for Altman was how much he defined himself by his work. Once his sons got old enough they began working as crew members on his projects. At one point his son Stephen talks about how, for Altman, his work took priority over his family (it’s one of the only times any criticism is heard, which isn’t surprising considering the direct involvement of Altman’s family with the production). As Mann goes through the years of Altman’s life, his formal approach starts to make perfect sense. Altman lived for filmmaking, as evidenced by the countless film and TV productions he worked on for over 5 decades, so defining his life through a career-based perspective feels like the most accurate portrayal. According to Altman’s family, there’s no need to delve into his life off set; the film set was his home.

Mann’s use of archival footage and narration to form a biographical narrative, while familiar, also feels somewhat unconventional, a welcome departure from the blandness of most filmed biographies. Mann does make one bold choice, though: peppered throughout are clips of Altman collaborators (including Robin Williams, Bruce Willis, Julianne Moore, Lily Tomlin and Elliott Gould, among many others) giving their own definition of “Altmanesque.” The fact that Mann only uses his interview subjects for these brief moments feels daring, like a defiant move to avoid relying on a talking heads format. The segments also provide a chapter-like structure, with each person’s definition relating to the next phase of the director’s career.

This kind of smart, neat structuring makes Altman one of the year’s finest documentaries, a shining example of how to properly examine the life and career of such a prolific figure.

Perhaps in an effort to shake his typical “good guy” role, Jason Bateman plays a foul-mouthed asshole in his directorial debut Bad Words. Most comedies can get by with a weak storyline as long as there’s enough laugh-out-loud moments. Unfortunately, Bad Words is neither clever nor funny. While it tries very hard to be funny, the film keeps its ambitions low in the story department, but manages to miss the target in both instances.

The film begins with Guy Trilby (Bateman) explaining how he perpetually makes bad decisions. He demonstrates how much of an understatement that is by taking the stage to compete in an eighth grade spelling-bee. That’s right, this grown man finds a wacky loophole in the rule book that states anyone who hasn’t passed the eighth grade is eligible to compete. Naturally, the parents at the school feel outraged by his decision to exploit the rule.

Not helping his case is that Trilby is a complete asshole to everyone around him. Which includes a journalist named Jenny (Kathryn Hahn) who is strangely attracted to him even though he repeatedly treats her like garbage. Same goes for the ridiculously cute Indian-American Chaitanya Chopra (Rohan Chand), a fellow 10-year-old competitor who desperately wants to befriend Trilby despite constantly being insulted. Instead of just reciting obscenities, Trilby one-ups his own douchery by being racist as well. On a couple of occasions he calls the kid Slumdog, threatens to slaughter his sacred cow, and tell him to “shut his curry hole”. Yes, the film IS called Bad Words, but rather than focus on using derogatory words, the film stoops to adults making racists remarks to kids.

The screenplay ended up on the Black List, a collective list of the “best” un-produced scripts in Hollywood, though it’s so full of contrived situations it’s hard to understand how. For example, Jenny sleeps with Trilby for plot purposes only as she never gets an ounce of respect from him. Also, Chaitanya’s parents make the 10-year-old fly coach while they enjoy first-class and force him stay in his own room on a separate floor in the hotel, making it very convenient for the protagonist and the boy to bond. And it just so happens that this is the first year they’re televising the spelling-bee to millions of people.

Those familiar with Bateman’s character from Arrested Development will see some flashes of Michael Bluth’s sarcastic wit, but without any of the kindness or humor. Other comedies with a bad lead character like Bad Santa and Bad Teacher work because at some point we are given a reason to care. But Bateman’s character is such a jerk that it’s nearly impossible to care about him or why he is even competing in this contest. And while Hahn is adequate in her role as the journalist/love-interest, her character, like most in the film, is completely unnecessary to the story.

It’s hard to think of any good words to describe Bad Words. There are a couple decent scenes in the film that may earn a couple chuckles — namely when the two rivals pull pranks on each other at the hotel — but otherwise it’s mostly filled with cringe-worthy moments. His reasons for entering the contest is kept a mystery the entire time and when it’s finally revealed it’s an eye-roller. To top it all off, the motivations for everything that happens in the film don’t even make sense once all the cards are on the table. Unlike Bad Santa where the jokes are funny and the bad protagonist has some sympathetic qualities, Bad Words is just bad.

Wonderful World is an indie drama that stars Matthew Broderick in a role that is not what most people are used to seeing him in. It’s a directorial debut for Joshua Goldin but it is not the first time Goldin and Broderick have a film in common with one another. Goldin wrote Out on a Limb which Broderick stared in. This film is not the most put-together film but the writing seemed solid. Maybe Goldin should stick to writing.

Ben Signer (Matthew Broderick) is a pessimistic divorcee that has little going for him in his life. He has worked at a dead-end proofreading job for eight years and most all of his co-workers alienate him. And to top it off, he has a tough time connecting with his daughter.

Things take a turn early on when his roommate, Ibu, goes into diabetic coma. Because of Ibu’s sudden medical situation, his sister Khadi for some reason stays with Ben. Why she stays with him when they have never met before, is a little strange to me.

The two bond quickly and then advances to a romantic relationship. Although, it is a little awkward for them in the beginning. And why would it not be? Ben is hooking up with his roommate’s sister who he just met while his roommate is in coma. However, he now seems happier and has hope in his life. Even his daughter seems to be getting along with him better now that Khadi is in the picture.

I was impressed with Matthew Broderick in this role. Maybe that is because it was such a different role for him. Much like Jim Carey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, it is a side you rarely get to see from the actor that is often typecasted to a certain role. It was not like his performance in Wonderful World was absolutely amazing, it was just different. And I liked that change.

Because the plot failed to deliver any type of real climax the resolution was not very successful. The relatively serious message it tried to convey was lost. Never once in the film did I feel any strong connection to any of the characters. Nor did I think the outcome of events throughout the film were believable.

Wonderful World seems like it was a fairly smart and decent written script with bad execution and mediocre acting. The story lost focus early with meaningless what’s-the-point-of-that scenes. I cannot say I have any desire to watch this film again and if you have not yet had to sit through it, I recommend you do not.