Doc Watch: Funny as a Heart Attack

DRUNK STONED BRILLIANT DEAD (B+) - Ah, nostalgia. Submit, and you'll be rewarded.

This buoyant documentary chronicles the origins of the National Lampoon, which birthed a comedy movement in the final quarter of the 20th century. (They're the reason we still must put up with the 41st season of "Saturday Night Live" and an elderly Bill Murray remaking "Stripes" in Afghanistan.)

National Lampoon, an offshoot of the stuffy Harvard Lampoon, represented a raunchy coming-of-age for baby boomers in the late 1960s. Through incredible talent and sly marketing, a vulgar, sophomoric magazine quickly grew into a comedy industry -- spreading to radio, record albums, live theater, television and movies. Some of the greatest comic minds and performers passed through its halls. At their best, they took on the establishment, and they dared to take humor to the darkest reaches of the human mind.

Director Douglas Tirola brings great energy to the project and captures the spirit of the times and the personalities behind the industry. In addition to assembling a bevy of alums reminiscing, Tirola splashes gag after gag on the screen, each one more blasphemous than the one before it. The irreverence is balanced by a fairly respectful tribute to the comedy legends who burned hot and died too young -- magazine co-founder Doug Kenney (along with the enigmatic Henry Beard), "SNL" megastar John Belushi, and the insurgent genius Michael O'Donoghue.

The principals don't shy away from their foibles as well as their successes. They did too many drugs, made some questionable business decisions, and didn't always treat each other well. But the impressive cast here has a grand time celebrating their accomplishments. Directors John Landis ("Animal House," etal.) and Ivan Reitman come off as the sensible big brothers. Anne Beatts admits sleeping her way onto the staff. "Simpsons" rascals Al Jean and Mike Reiss tell great stories. Movie alums Kevin Bacon, Tim Mattheson and Beverly D'Angelo come off as thrilled to have been a part of the late '70s and early '80s run. Chevy Chase gets downright morose about his old pal Kenney (and tells a few too many you-had-to-be-there anecdotes). Judd Apatow hogs too much screen time. Other bit players remind you of how deep the roster went.

And then there are the clips. The bits definitely reek of a bygone era (Drugs! Boobs!), but much of the humor holds up. To think that a recording session could include Murray, Ramis, Flaherty, Radner -- just another day at the office. We're reminded of Christopher Guest's musical mimicry.  Tony Hendra is good at putting it all in perspective.

This is just a load of fun. It helps if you once were a high school student who memorized entire scenes from "Caddyshack," but that should not be required to appreciate the motley crew that upended the old order and eventually settled in as the comedy establi

FED UP (C+) - Katie Couric puts on her adult journalist cap and produces and narrates this glancing analysis of the menace that is the American diet. Four stars for trying to get our attention and urge us to change our diets. But too much of this goes down like empty calories.

Director Stephanie Soechtig treads a lot of familiar ground in workmanlike fashion. The filmmakers pinpoint the late 1970s as a key turning point in our culture's approach to diet. It's when the low-fat fads took hold and led to the proliferation of added sugar (and such variations as high-fructose corn syrup) to a lot of products. We now are headed down a road toward an epidemic of chronic obesity.

Corporate America also takes it on the chin here. They are seen throwing their weight around, blocking legislation and attempts by administrative agencies to address the issue. Even Michelle Obama suffers from some snark, as it's suggested (respectfully) that she buckled under corporate pressure and shifted her "Let's Move" focus from fresh vegetables to physical fitness.

The filmmakers try to humanize the story through the stories of a bunch of overweight kids. None of them is compelling, because most kids just are not interesting. One teen is pushing 400 pounds, but his overweight parents rationalize his girth on ethnic terms -- for Mexicans, being fat is beautiful and healthy. We get a lot of crying into webcams and sad footage of chubby kids swimming and power walking.

The occasional talking head brings heft to the proceedings. Michael Pollan, author of "The Omnivore's Dilemma," helps deflate the myths of low-fat diets. But too often Couric's production is as shallow as a "Today" show feature. Her heart's in it, but the results are just average.