It’s that time of the year again — the season when multi-million dollar, Oscar-savvy film companies briefly enter the world of low-budget cinema, hoping to catch that independent gem.

Finbar McBride (Peter Dinklage, “Living in Oblivion”), a pensive, introverted dwarf, inherits a train depot from his recently deceased model train shop coworker. Herein the story takes off, with Fin, the ultimate outsider, entering a desolate town and all the mocking that comes with it.

Mechanically, Fin continues in quest for quiet isolation only to have his world disrupted by the animated, motor-mouthed hot dog vendor Joe (Bobby Cannavale). Through blatant attempts at socialization, Joe latches onto the reluctant Fin with child-like admiration, eventually drawing Fin and Olivia (Clarkson) to participate in a series of quasi-successful hangout sessions.

The neurotic painter Olivia, coping with the death of her son and abandonment by her husband, also finds solace in the otherwise impersonal Fin. Via nights of beer and cigarette-induced conversation, this oddity of a trio soon becomes a temporary cure for loneliness, epitomizing life’s need for friendship, no matter how peculiar.

On first view, the film shares similarities with another Sundance delicacy, Kenneth Lonergan’s tantalizing investigation of sibling relationships in 2000’s “You Can Count on Me.” Both emphasize their rural surroundings through grainy film stock and a slew of establishing shots. Both also treat their adult subjects with childish characteristics, forcing points of emotional detachment and indulgence.

At one harrowing point, Fin finds himself abandoned and plastered at a local bar, standing on a stool and yelling “Take a good look!” to a sea of stunned faces. First-time director McCarthy has a knack for shifting between comfort and uneasiness without seeming contrived.

While McCarthy’s script proves beyond sufficient, the acting is the cornerstone of this picture. Dinklage projects off the screen as a noteworthy talent — a great contrast to the comic nature that’s unfortunately attributed to dwarfism. Likewise, Cannavale treats his character with enough reverence as to shift believably between comic relief and empathic realization. Clarkson, however, separates herself, playing Olivia with a frailty yet feminine audacity that, along with her performance in “Far from Heaven,” puts her among the forefront of leading women.

“The Station Agent” conveys an optimism solely from a realist’s perspective, dissociating itself with the cookie-cutter romantic comedies force fed to audiences from Hollywood. With emotional variability and likable characters, the film utilizes a remarkable ensemble cast. For guiltless emotional gooeyness, board this train.