Critic's Notebook

Still, head doctors fit quite well into the essential narrative drama of most television: that flawed and ordinary people still manage to do extraordinary things. In terms of the ever-popular "physician, heal thyself" story, therapists are Ground Zero as "Frasier" made abundantly clear. Although Frasier (Kelsey Grammer), his ex-wife Lilith (Bebe Neuwirth) and brother Niles (David Hyde Pierce) were all therapists, they were all far too busy coping with their own neuroses to actually have too many patients. (Frasier himself turned to radio.)

On "In Treatment," Byrne's Weston is going more for irony and pathos, and a few moments that feel like actual therapy. In this season, as he pushes his patients to explore their complicated and painful relationships with parents and children, he realizes that his own memories of his father may have been more convenient than accurate. (Which is much fresher and more interesting than last season's doomed flirtation with a patient.)

Wentworth's Goode is not interested in anything remotely like that. This season, she is getting mar-ried, and so hilariously oblivious to her own reality that her fiance is more interested in the wedding's star-studded guest list (he's a struggling agent) than the actual vows. (Probably because he's cheating on her with her own sister.)

The two shows are obviously genre opposites, drama vs. comedy, but more than that they reflect the two fears many people still have about therapy -- that stirring things up will cause more problems than it will solve, and that those dingy high-priced doctors aren't really listening.

"In Treatment" doesn't shy away from the former -- as the patients' stories unfold, things inevitably get worse before they get better -- and "Head Case" revels in the latter. Goode is so not listening to her patients that she regularly interrupts to ask for advice on her upcoming wedding.

The joke of "Head Case" is that this is precisely the kind of therapist Hollywood types deserve, and more than that, that they need -- someone who speaks their bubble-language of self-delusion. Although not quite as inspired, or moving, as Ricky Gervais' "Extras," "Head Case" is very funny and has similar moments of multi-pronged outrageousness.

Watching Goode lead "Desperate Housewives" creator Marc Cherry through a series of slickly hostile encounters with James Fenton (in one episode Cherry informs him that his character has to turn gay or get axed), a viewer is torn between admiration for all involved to play themselves so wickedly and the feeling that this is probably not anywhere near as satiric as it seems.

In a way, "Head Case" brings television full circle. One of the first psychiatrists to appear regularly was Admiral Bellows in "I Dream of Jeannie," played to full blowhard ("Bellows," get it?) comedic effect by Hayden Rorke. Zachary Smith (Jonathan Harris) of "Lost In Space" was also a psychologist, in addition to being a liar, spy and, one suspected, a closet space queen.

Newhart's Bob Hartley was, of course, none of these things. What made his show so successful, and such a breakthrough, was that he was a relatively normal man surrounded by crazy people. And although it was a comedy, he was actually trying to help them.

Now that wouldn't be enough. He'd have to have an affair with Carol. Or Jerry. Or both. Just to keep things interesting.

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mary.mcnamara@latimes.com