With those eyes that are a little too close together, and that confident swagger that looks as if it could disintegrate into a pratfall at any time, Will Ferrell makes a grand ringleader for the nonsense of Anchorman 2. A few years ago, when he was making film after film, he became dangerously overexposed: A little of his pompous demeanor goes a long way. But he's an inherently generous performer, which is rare for big comic actors. Ferrell opens the space around him for his fellow performers, allowing all sorts of weirdness to sneak through. This sequel is more hit-or-miss than its predecessor, which means, thankfully, fewer annoying guys will be inspired to quote it. This time, Ron Burgundy is offered a gig at a brand-new station. He scoffs at the concept: a 24-hour news network? It'll never fly! But he comes around, and decides to reassemble his old San Diego news team: Paul Rudd's man-on-the-scene correspondent and sex god Brian Fantana, David Koechner's sportscaster Champ Kind, and Steve Carell's Dada-dense weathercaster Brick Tamland. They make their mark by reporting only upbeat news that makes people feel good about America. Most of this is utterly, indefensibly ridiculous, and like all reasonably ambitious comedies, it at times pushes the boundaries of good taste. When Burgundy first meets his new boss, Linda Jackson (Meagan Good), a take-charge type and woman of color, his jaw hangs open like that of a hooked tuna. "Oh. Black!" he blurts out, a marvelous take on the universal human fear of saying absolutely, positively the wrong thing.