Close elections. The possibility of an elder stepping into a position of great power. Infighting between factions and ideological rift. The description fits with America’s impending vote, but also with the plot of “The Conclave.” A new film directed by Edward Berger, based on the novel by Robert Harris, “Conclave” is concerned with choice pontifex maximus — the pope — by the College of Cardinals. Cue-but in the Sistine Chapel.

The election of a new pope begins as soon as the old one breathes his last – or, as happened with Pope Benedict XVI, resigns. “The Conclave” begins on the deathbed of an elderly pope, and it falls to the fictional dean, Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), of the College of Cardinals to oversee the election of a successor. The liberal wing of the Curia, to which Lawrence is sympathetic, is piously supported by Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci).

Another contender is Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto), a reactionary with ravenous appetites who gathers his vape with the lust that a prince of the Church should reserve for the rosary. Cardinal Tremblay (John Lithgow) is all things to all prelates, but the scandal hovers off-screen until it takes center stage. An African candidate, Cardinal Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati), gains steam only to surface in youthful indiscretion at the worst possible time.

A mysterious figure in Kabul, Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz), is a scarlet-clad version of Chekhov’s pistol — present at the beginning of the film, he grows in importance by the end. Isabella Rossini, stern in appearance and vivacious competence, is a gorgeous Sister Agnes. One, somewhat sacrilegiously, wishes to speak more. “Conclave” has an eye for detail worthy of the artists who graced the halls in which the Church operates.

Cardinals are sequestered during a conclave and released only after a candidate has obtained the necessary supermajority. Then white smoke billows over St. Peter’s Square and the declaration habemus papam he roared. Much of the pleasure of “Conclave” comes from providing a behind-the-scenes glimpse. Men whisper in corners and form alliances over cigarettes. Dreams cultivated over decades are falling apart from one election to another.

“The Conclave” addresses the sins of the Church—sexual scandals, financial misdeeds, venal corruption, and overwhelming pride—but with a light touch. His intelligence is most evident when he walks the blurred line between piety and politics. Every cardinal, we are told, wants to be Pope – especially those who deny that they long for the throne. One cardinal reflects that “No sane man would want the papacy.” He is crushed when he is denied the bishopric of Rome.

Over the “Conclave” is not only America’s vote, but also the aging Pope Francis. The film alludes to the rifts in his flock between liberals and conservatives over issues such as the role of women, homosexuality and even the restoration of the Tridentine Liturgy. Vatican watchers report that dissent is rife in the Curia, and Francis’ poor health means the throne of St. Peter could soon be vacant again. The church is used to crises.

“Conclave” is fast-paced and its protagonists are appealing. What it sacrifices in awe and depth, it makes up for in a human touch. Moving between Latin, Italian, English and Spanish, it depicts the College of Cardinals as a cross between a fraternity, a Model United Nations and a synagogue men’s club. Mr Fiennes is the glory of the film – a manager who is changed by the process he has been tasked with overseeing. It could Fisherman’s Ring does it fit his finger?

The film’s ideological sympathies are with liberals, but Tedesco is its most vivid character. He declares that the avoidance of Latin has impoverished the liturgy and fractured the Church, and his evocation of a clash of civilizations between Rome and her enemies is hectic theater. Tedesco’s uneasy vitality reminds us that sometimes sober reform might not be the tonic for what ails faith in a secular age.

If the film is constructed with anything like the care that Michelangelo gave The Last Judgment, the final half hour is akin to throwing, say: orange painton canvas. A terrorist attack and a final reveal reveal “The Conclave”. It would be great, though, to have more films like this, smart but enjoyable, that respect both the faith and the audience’s time – giving Hollywood only what’s Hollywood’s.