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Wrong," the French DJ-turned-auteur's follow-up, is classic sophomore slump: an unfocused mishmash, evidently the result of him emptying out notebooks filled with odd ideas that simply needed a home. Some are amusing, some are not amusing, and once one adjusts expectations to low can its sporadic charms be properly enjoyed.

Mr. Dupieux, again playing a one-man-band's worth of filmmaking roles, obviously has sufficient creative control (seen especially in the video simulating the perspective of waste passing through a dog's digestive tract). But that's not the same as giving a movie shape and drive, and it would take a firmer hand to right this "Wrong.

Written, directed, photographed, edited and co-scored by Quentin Dupieux — a man who is the living definition of "Jack of all trades, master of none" — "Wrong" often resembles a student film stretched to feature length. Dupieux's style is efficient but underdeveloped, and leans heavily on rack focus — where the camera dramatically re-focuses from one object to another — as a form of visual punctuation. His music is pleasant but often ill-fitting.

What distinguishes Quentin Dupieux's profoundly strange movie "Wrong" is that it's surrealist in the old-fashioned sense, the sense employed by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí and the sense applied to Buster Keaton, who might not have thought of himself in those terms but was a surrealist pioneer nonetheless.

This is well-worn territory, an early surrealist like Luis Buñuel having pretty extensively mapped it out decades ago, which means that Wrong never verges beyond mere cuteness. This is a step above Dupieux's previous film, Rubber, which stretched a few scarce instances of such cuteness across an otherwise barren 90 minutes, but this film is more an example of lateral movement than direct progress.

Weird for weirdness's sake gets you only so far, and when Dupieux tries to connect all these strange goings-on to Dolph's corporate-drone despondency, the movie takes a spurious turn toward rancid sentimentality. It seems that even a piece of dog excrement has feelings. Yuck.

The contrived absurdity escalates, from small details (an alarm clock that reads "7:60") to large digressions (a perky organic pizza shop employee who leaves her husband after Dolph asks her a question about the company logo). Yet unlike other recent anti-comedy outings (e.g., Tim and Eric's Billion Dollar Movie), Wrong wears out its welcome even at 94 minutes.

Within this fertile setting, the characters are all lame caricatures and the humor anemic, all of it based on self-conscious oddness that is never truly surreal or absurd.