Adapted for the big screen by novelist-screenwriter Nick Hornby (“Wild,” 2014) and director John Crowley (“Boy A,” 2007) from Colm Tóibín’s novel of the same name, “Brooklyn” stars Saoirse Ronan (“The Grand Budapest Hotel,” 2014) in the lead role of Ellis, who’s arranged for by her sister Rose (Fiona Glascott; “Resident Evil,” 2002) to get out of Enniscorthy in Ireland to find a better life in Brooklyn. While there, Ellis finds a career she flourishes in and new love in Anthony (Emory Cohen; “The Place Beyond the Pines,” 2012). A tragedy in the family forces Ellis to go back home to Enniscorthy—and, by proxy, to her roots—and fall into a life that makes her question her place in the world and where her life really lies.

Crowley’s film—it seems—doesn’t feel like a heartbreaking ode to an immigrant, nor does it explicitly want you to empathize with the character. Instead, it gives its viewers front-row seats to watch the life of an outsider stuck in a stifling societal construct—out of time in the small town of Enniscorthy, but not quite a perfect fit in Brooklyn either. That doesn’t mean it’s an impersonal film; far from it, actually. “Brooklyn” successfully strikes a singular chord with viewers who can identify with Ellis’s dilemma of where she’s from, where she is, and how she identifies herself. While Crowley deserves a ton of credit for the understated, nuanced direction of the film’s actors, one cannot dismiss the person who portrays Ellis onscreen.

Bringing about a mixture of vulnerability and bravado to her character, Ronan is fantastic and speaks more than dialogue can in her moments of silence. Her dynamic emotional range and body language give the character’s writing a multi-dimensional edge. Ellis’s personality makes her existential frustrations crystal clear to viewers; she fights for her place in each social construct and often wonders if what she intends to do with her life as an immigrant matters in the long run. Her chemistry with Cohen—an incredible force of nature himself—is excellent and makes you want to root for them. 

Of the supporting cast, Gleeson, Broadbent, and Glascott are as dependable as ever, each delivering knockout turns—Glascott, in her short role, is exceptionally powerful and holds your attention as the protagonist’s older sister—but it is Bríd Brennan (“Shadow Dancer,” 2012) who shines as the malicious antagonistic force in Ellis’ life. Brennan’s sole job is to piss you off as Miss Kelly, which she’s enormously successful in every single time you see her.

An annoying nitpick I’d have with “Brooklyn” is it feels a bit too familiar as a period drama, which is okay, except many establishment-conflict-resolution beats feel a touch derivative. The real issue, though—to me, personally—would be how abruptly it ends, which feels slightly antithetical to its otherwise classical narrative structure. Of course, how one engages with the ending depends on the viewer. Still, for a movie that’s otherwise a labor of love and works really hard to be a cozy watch, the final moments didn’t necessarily feel all that satisfactory from the standpoint of emotional closure.

That’s not to say it breaks the movie because it’s still a fine, emotionally resonant film supported by technically competent and creatively dazzling work. The gorgeous score by music composer-producer Michael Brook (“The Perks of Being a Wallflower,” 2012) boasts rich orchestration and a rousing cornucopia of instrumentation that brings every frame alive. Yves Bélanger’s “Dallas Buyers Club,” 2013) picture-perfect framing ensures viewers see how Ellis sees the world, but in the signature way the man behind the camera knows how. Dreamy, beautiful, and textured, Bélanger’s work speaks for itself and helps immerse you from the first frame to the last.

There are many things about Crowley’s “Brooklyn” that work, more than making up for the few that do not. It’s a gorgeous filmgoing experience that draws you into the life of its protagonist and her existential trysts as an immigrant and—before that—in her stifling social structure. It’s eminently watchable, deeply comforting, and tackles pointed questions of identity, independence, and a sense of belonging that feels directly relatable to the millions of immigrants worldwide. Worth the price of the ticket.