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Affective as Vianello's performance is, and haunting as Rohrwacher's treatment of the material is, Corpo Celeste seems ultimately to be about something larger than one girl's fraught relationship with religion—it is about a nation's fraught relationship with religion. This portrait of modern Italy is unforgiving in its stark naturalism: the unromanticized spaces of the cramped apartment shared by Marta's family, the crumbling ruin of a church, and the anonymity of a busy highway.

Feeling like an airier – and less effective – Dardenne brothers picture, the loungey pacing and thin dramatic thrust put pressure on tiny details and simple pleasures, which only emerge intermittently. As a debut, though, it stakes the Italian helmer as one to definitely keep an eye on.

The film elevates into something oddly sublime the moment this adolescent is picked up on the highway by the community's spiritual leader, embarking on a journey involving murdered kittens, political scheming and a stolen crucifix. Here's when Rohrwacher's realist story tips tantalizingly close to allegory—articulating a collision between the celestial and the embodied, where there's nothing more powerful or strange than a young woman's coming of age.

If Italy ever needed its own Lynne Ramsay, the country can stop looking now.

In press notes for Corpo Celeste, the director indicates that film is meant to ask "what it means to live in our time." While a significant section of the films in the NYFF Main Slate address this question by imagining the apocalypse, Corpo Celeste traces a more illusive erosion, a profound loss of certainty and purpose – which may be even more terrifying.

Rohrwacher brings everything aggressively to the fore—alone in a classroom in her confirmation dress, Marta walks out of the church just as Don Mario is tiredly affirming that "our children mature"—but she earns points back for the decisive cynicism of the last shot's "miracle," and for using an actual crucifix as the metaphorical cross Marta is asked to bear—the literalness is, in the context of the international festival film's tastefully understated intentions, actually rather invigorating.

Twitchily shot by director Alice Rohrwacher and veteran DP Hélène Louvart, the film's tendency towards simplified moments is tamped down by the many diversions it takes from the central teen narrative, building a multi-character crisis of faith with different particulars for all its characters.

Even if a few lingering doubts regarding what seems to be a lack of visual instincts prevent me from embracing Corpo Celeste unreservedly, those doubts are more than a little offset by my admiration for [Rohrwacher's] intelligent, delicate approach.