Brooklyn (John Crowley, 2015)

A girl emigrates to America in search of a life away from her stifling Irish home town in the 1950s, meets a nice boy, is torn between her new life and the old one and has to make a difficult choice between them. The plot of Brooklyn is a well-worn one, but the devil is in the detail and this is elevated beyond its bare bones by a combination of Colm Tóibín's source novel's sensitive characterisation, handsome period detail and Saoirse Ronan's spirited portrayal of the conflicted lead. She is maturing into the capable actress that numerous directors seem to have seen the potential in her to become through her teens, no longer just a simpering waif: as the story arc moves on and the character grows in confidence in her new environment, she conveys the transition quite credibly. It's also striking to note here, for such a slight story where - uncommonly for the cinema of today, one realises with some dismay - nothing unrealistically dramatic happens, with no violence, intrigue, plot-driving calamities or screaming confrontation, how much human interest can be generated simply through faithfully relating the challenges of an ordinary life.

7/10