After Talladega Nights, I was worried whether Will Ferrell’s audience appeal would continue to wane. But then a project came his way, which allowed the comedian to reconfigure his shtick, develop a new character, and find new ground in the drama department. Director Mark Forster, whose credits range from the haunting Monster’s Ball to the splendidly magical Finding Neverland, combines elements from both tragedies and comedies to create the whimsical and spontaneous Stranger than Fiction. Sketching a defined line between the two genres, the film takes hold of a genuine idea and makes it interesting from beginning to end. You’ll find much to laugh about, but don’t be shocked if you end up with a box of tissues in your lap. It gives us neither an existential yarn (like I Heart Huckabees) nor a Farrelly Brothers rendition. Like life - whose twists and turns are narrated with great precision - Forster’s film is unpredictable and a fantastic voyage of sorts.

Harold Crick (Ferrell) is a plain vanilla gentleman whose life lacks tremendous spice. He wears the same suits every morning, brushes his teeth in the same pattern, and makes the same commute to his job at the IRS each day - counting footsteps included. Harold doesn’t want to have “fun”, but through some unfortunate events, his wristwatch is going to have some. Crick wakes up one morning only to find his life being oddly narrated by a refined English woman. As he attempts to audit a vociferous yet attractive baker Ana Pascal (Gyllenhaal), the voice mocks his stiff nature and prevents him from doing his job. The voice is that of Kay Eiffel (Thompson), a depressed author who unknowingly used Harold as the main character to her new masterpiece. But Eiffel is stuck with writer’s block, because she doesn’t know how to kill Harold. But when our poor protagonist learns this, he consults literary professor Jules Hebert (Hoffman) for help to find this woman. Just as Crick is learning to enjoy life to its fullest, Eiffel has him marked for his impending death. He learns he must find her before it’s too late.

Ferrell subdues his tangential brand of humor for a low-key role, and the turn is greatly appreciated. This is, to date, the comedian’s deepest emotional work to his record, and enough of an apology for his lame summer spectacle. Despite his character’s obvious differences with the entire cast, Ferrell exhibits a unique chemistry with everyone, ranging from his feeble attempts at romance with Gyllenhaal, and thought sessions with Hoffman. Herein lays the potential for another comedian who can successfully exhibit skills in dramatic pieces.