Reign Over Me is the first major Hollywood studio movie to take the emotional aftermath of 9/11 as its starting point and central theme. Writer-director Mike Binder's affecting drama isn't about the hijackers, the rescue attempt, or the political fallout. It's about the human suffering of one New York City man named Charlie Fineman, played by Adam Sandler, whose wife and three daughters were on one of the planes that hit the Twin Towers.

Most of all, Reign Over Me is concerned with what Charlie's grief, which he can't pull out of five years after that fateful day, occasions in his college roommate Alan (Don Cheadle), a Park Avenue dentist going through a less profound crisis of the mid-life variety.

A testament to the therapeutic power of friendship, the movie tempers extreme pain with humor and in a measured yet lively manner. While devastating at times, it isn't maudlin or exploitative. Some may be inclined to skip it due to the difficult subject matter or because they assume Sandler's presence is automatically trivializing. It isn't, despite dabs of his trademark adolescent persona. Even the most skeptical moviegoer might be rewarded with a cathartic experience.

Charlie has a crippling case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Reign Over Me dares to suggest there's nothing wrong with that. At minimum it questions whether there is such thing as a normal period of deep mourning, and it convincingly argues that no one has the right to impose either the manner or duration of grieving on another individual. Charlie won't have anything to do with his in-laws, who want to force him to unblock memories and confront his loss.

Granted, he's pretty far gone. He's an addled, angry, paranoid and unkempt man-child who uses earphones and rock music from the 1970s and '80s to keep reality at bay. (The movie's title comes from a song by The Who.) Having given up his dental practice, he collects albums obsessively, plays drums in a heavy-metal band and is addicted to a computer game and remodeling his kitchen.

For his part, Alan is experiencing personal malaise and professional trouble. He's feeling trapped in the ideal marriage (that includes Jada Pinkett Smith, two lovely daughters, and a lovely apartment) and he has a stalker of sorts -- a kooky patient played by the willowy Saffron Burrows -- who propositions him in the office. After a chance meeting, Alan makes an effort to reach out to Charlie. He's generous with his time and attention, though it's not pure altruism since he's looking for something himself. He gets Charlie to see a therapist (Liv Tyler) and eventually there's a climactic court hearing pitting Charlie against his in-laws and the psychiatric establishment.

Charlie's condition fits Sandler to a tee; he's found an ideal dramatic role similar to the lonely businessman he played in Paul Thomas Anderson's black comedy Punch-Drunk Love and for which he received a Golden Globe nomination. Charlie's regression entails an adolescent fixation on women's breasts and a well-cultivated appreciation of Mel Brooks' movies. By the end, we realize that his antisocial condition -- which certainly borders on mental illness -- is voluntary in the sense that he knows he must be this way in order to survive. Sandler gets every mood of this sly, broken man. The humor works because it's comfortingly familiar and the somber emotions because he doesn't overplay them.

Pairing Sandler with Cheadle was a masterstroke and based on the amount of screen time, it's a toss-up who should get top billing. Reign Over Me is as much about Alan as Charlie and their parallel struggles, although on different levels, provide believable counterpoint. Sandler will get the most attention, but Cheadle's natural, self-possessed performance is essential.

All the acting in Reign Over Me is first-rate and Donald Sutherland deserves special mention for his turn as a wise judge. Binder, who showcased Kevin Costner, Joan Allen and a terrific ensemble in his 2005 film The Upside of Anger,  now has to be considered a premier actor's director whose ability to elicit deep performances might be due to his own acting experience. He takes a supporting role here as Charlie's protective business manager.

As for his incisive script, Binder makes the unassailable claim that one size does not fit all when it comes to mental health and while Charlie takes some big steps, healing isn't guaranteed. The message that he must find his own way (with a little help from his friends) isn't startling; and the plot points, some of which flirt with farce, aren't equally convincing. But it all coheres. Thanks to self-assured directing and an unhurried rhythm, the comedy and drama come together to create, in Binder's words, a "joyous pain." 

He achieves that in the movie's opening sequence in which Charlie rides his motorized scooter through the streets of Manhattan. It's a simple and brilliant way of saluting New York City from the street level. And the movie's various scooter rides are lyrical passages that symbolize both aloneness and connectedness. The unique way Binder communicates that mixed state of being and feeling is what makes Reign Over Me so moving and entertaining. 

(Released by Columbia Pictures and rated "R" for language and some sexual references.)

Listen to John P. McCarthy discuss Reign Over Me on the ReelTalk Radio Show by clicking here.