On Chesil Beach

Tropic Sprockets by Ian Brockway

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Theater director and playwright Dominic Cooke helms an adaptation of Ian McEwan’s novella, “On Chesil Beach.” Though a shade somber and predictable, the film boasts solid performances by Saoirse Ronan and Billy Howle as newlyweds on a secluded honeymoon.

Florence (Ronan) is a sheltered violinist and Edward (Howle) is a somewhat sulky history student with an angry streak.

The film is told in flashback and we get brief impressionistic vignettes throughout the story. In 1962, the two are very much in love. Edward is supportive and Florence is delighted, buoyant in laughter. The in-laws show concern. The families don’t match economically but the couple carries on, agreeing to collaborate on a piece of music.

They marry shortly after and decide to honeymoon at the seashore. Though mutually happy, the two of them grow increasingly nervous. Edward is awkward and fumbles during lovemaking, while Florence is turned off by the slow mechanics of the act itself.

Some embarrassing excitement on Edward’s part leads to revulsion and Florence hurriedly exits.

A fight ensues.

What was once” Romeo and Juliet” is now “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.” Edward is snarling and petty. At one point, he picks up a large rock and calls her a bitch.

Understandably, Florence is devastated. Edward doesn’t back down.

Howle has an odd mixture of passivity and aggression. His sad harlequin features and catlike eyes remind one of a young Malcolm McDowell. Saoirse Ronan is compelling as well, again portraying a young woman, blooming and spirited, a trademark persona.

“On Chesil Beach” is most interesting seen against the MeToo movement. If you think he wouldn’t dare, he does. A beast breathes under the dapper suit.

Suffice to say, the promising university boy transforms into a shaggy Jim Morrison and though one can see the remorseful melodramatic cues a mile away, you still care.

Write Ian at ianfree11@yahoo.com