Clarissa

It’s as rich, observant and absorbing as any great book about identity, imbued with a lush cinematic splendor that makes every moment last a lifetime.

The unassumingly magnetic Okonedo radiates the assertiveness and tranquility of someone secure in her reality.

Yet for all the sadness at the core of its story, “Clarissa” is captivating in how honestly and openly it confronts that emotion.

The Esiris cast a perceptive eye over the elite social constellation that has fallen into orbit around this dutiful but unfulfilled society wife, and have nothing but compassion for her as she spins slowly around and around at its center: loved by some, resented by others, admired by all — and totally alone.

Okonedo and Oyelowo give affecting performances as star-crossed lovers who can’t quite own up to their mistakes . . . Together they give Clarissa a touching guardedness that might not offer the spit and fire of Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, but certainly understands the permanent heartache and the poeticism of a life deferred.

The Esiris have created a seductive, mesmeric picture.

It never feels as if the film has given concrete shape to all that was born and died in the gulf between youthful dreams and adult reality.