The Emme story is naturalism so completely embodied that you may feel some borders between yourself and the characters dissolve. The therapy sessions between Sandie and Dr. Trabulous, on the other hand, could not be mistaken for naturalism. Sandie doesn't think he needs to talk to anyone, and he certainly thinks the doctor must be joking when he says he can tell Sandie wants to hit him over the head with his chair. As Sandie, Gaffigan comes across as uncomplicated, even doughy — though his ordinariness contains an unmistakable spark of comic impersonation. You can feel it's a set-up for the detonation the mysterious doctor keeps trying to set off.

You'll probably be as baffled as Sandie by what comes out of Dr. Trabulous' mouth. Shalhoub is hilariously peculiar and yet you can see why his poker-faced comments would provoke Sandie, the man who thinks he's had no reaction to the local and international disaster, or even to the subsequent breakup of his relationship. The genius of the episode is Shalhoub's grief counselor is bigger than weird, he's numinous, but we're not sure what direction he's pushing Sandie in. The doctor thus embodies the unpredictability of the grief September 11th caused and Catlin and Leiner are secure in their ability to shape it comically and still have it register as grief.

From Emme to Sandie and Dr. Trabulous, The Great New Wonderful has a wide span of styles and yet it doesn't feel as if it has mapped out everything in between. It cannot be called a success as a summary of New Yorkers' reactions to September 11th. There's an internal contradiction between the five self-contained stories and the whole story that Catlin and Leiner never resolve — they've attempted to inscribe an epic across the head of five pins.

So it's not up to the standard of Nashville, but its authorial precision and small-scale clarity compare favorably to Paul Thomas Anderson's smeary Altmanesque frescoes Boogie Nights (1997) and Magnolia (1999). And it's altogether a bolt from the blue, considering Leiner's previous features were the sporadically entertaining but basically inept Dude, Where's My Car? (2000) and Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle (2004). It isn't just the choice of material, the moviemaking, and the direction of actors are better here; the comedy is funnier, too. Sandie's sessions with Dr. Trabulous are even nuttier, and certainly more redolent, than Kumar's scene with the med school admissions officer.

This isn't a direction I would have expected Leiner to move in, so I don't know what to expect next. For the first time, however, I care.