Naive honeymoon dreams run aground
Rock ’n’ roll is on the radio and the Pill is just over the horizon, but to the earnest bedroom fumblers of On Chesil Beach, it might as well be 1862 as 1962, for all they know about sex. Newlyweds Edward (Billy Howle, Dunkirk) and Florence (Saoirse Ronan) are in love, but only one of them is in lust. Edward is eager to consummate his newly uttered marital vows; Florence would rather sprint down the rocky Dorset beach of their honeymoon sojourn than yield to unfettered carnality. (They’ve had practice: Howle and Ronan also play constrained lovers in the screen adaptation of Chekov’s The
Seagull, another current film.) Their physical dilemma, in Dominic Cooke’s film as in the source novella by Ian McEwan (who also wrote the screenplay), is teased by flashbacks that situate the corseted decorum of their sexless situation: Edward, a blue-collar history grad and scrapper, and Florence, a blue-blooded violinist and proper lady, are both virgins.
This would meet the approval of Florence’s parents, neither of whom are wild about the union. Her mother (Emily Watson) is a sneering academic and her father (Samuel West) is a sinister electronics tycoon. (An important element of the book is downplayed to blink-and-miss status here, but it has no appreciable affect on the drama.)
Edward’s parents are considerably more encouraging and likeable, especially his artist mother (Anne-Marie Duff ), brain damaged by a freak accident, who has a habit of frolicking au naturel. Edward’s dad (Adrian Scarborough) is a decent family man who wants the best for his son: “Marry that girl!” he whispers to him, after meeting Florence.
There’s splendid acting across the board and assured direction by Cooke, a stage veteran making his feature debut, as the fumblers find themselves in a traumatic “what if?” scenario, soon after Edwards struggles out of his conservative dark suit and Florence her demure blue dress, to mutual dissatisfaction.
Their dazed and contrite expressions speak volumes about themselves and the era. But perhaps most plaintive of all is the deceptively bright seaside locale, captured by the expansive lens of cinematographer Sean Bobbitt, which is at once inviting and distancing.
On Chesil Beach evokes a distinct postwar mentality, not fondly remembered, when keeping up appearances outside the bedroom meant more than what went on inside it.
Also opening Friday: Sarah Rotella’s Nobody Famous, a dark comedy about struggling actors and a cottage weekend that turns competitive. At Cineplex Yonge-Dundas.