In On Chesil Beach, romance isn’t romantic.
As a scholar of the rom-com genre, there’s nothing I love more than a whimsical courtship. But as a cynical human, I always wish every movie would give us an epilogue: “Sadly, it didn’t work out. He’s kind of a dick, she’s kind of passive-aggressive, and they’re both way too young.” While not a rom-com, On Chesil Beach consists almost entirely of that epilogue.
On Chesil Beach takes us back to 1962 England, before the internet taught virgins how sex worked, and when a young woman saying “no” was just a stuck-up prude who probably doesn’t have any emotional baggage so why bother asking her what’s wrong or how to help.