Like an overlong episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm with none of the wit and twice the irritation, co-director/writer/star Dax Shepard’s impotent, largely unscripted showbiz satire is yet another goof on clueless filmmakers who don’t know how to make a film. The irony must be lost on Shepard—playing a (hopefully) more narcissistic, impulsive, overconfident version of himself—as he “tries” to package and headline his own martial arts vehicle, a half-baked idea that also doesn’t have a script. Along with his sad-sack producing partner, Nate Tuck, the no-dynamic duo hunt down their famous friends in Los Angeles (circa 2006, when the film was mostly shot), coercing anybody who will listen. Punk’d friend and Village Voice foe Ashton Kutcher opts out because audiences would never believe him as Shepard’s brother because of their slight height difference, and a mildly amusing Tom Arnold—who hangs out shirtless with Shepard’s dad—decides the project should be tabled for five more years so that James Cameron can get involved. Star power doesn’t equal comedy power, however, so even as Shepard boasts to Jon Favreau that he could beat up Vince Vaughn or gets grappled to the ground by a pissed-off Bradley Cooper, there’s not enough there there to justify such disingenuous self-mocking.