'I Met Her on the Promenade'

Trevor Hayward's short film, I Met Her on the Promenade, is a beautifully melancholic meditation on transient connection and the power of place in memory.

 

Clocking in at under nineteen minutes, the film achieves an emotional density that many features struggle to attain, utilizing a simple setting—the eponymous seaside walkway—to explore a universe of fleeting human feeling. The film is less about narrative progression and more about evoking a specific, potent mood: the bittersweet ache of a moment you know is destined to end.

 

The promenade itself acts as the film’s crucial third character. Hayward's choice of location—a blustery, slightly faded coastal town—is masterful. The visuals employ a gentle, washed-out colour palette, often bordering on monochrome, lending the piece an immediate nostalgic quality. The constant presence of the sea, sometimes crashing violently, sometimes receding calmly, mirrors the ebb and flow of the relationship documented. The sound design here is equally important, emphasizing the sound of gulls and distant fairground music, creating an isolated bubble where the couple's brief encounter exists, separate from the real world. This deliberate aesthetic choice grounds the film in a memory space, suggesting the entire narrative is a recollection filtered through time and sentiment.

 

The two central figures, credited only as 'The Man' and 'The Woman', played wonderfully by actors Richard Collins and Lauren Dalton communicate less through dialogue and more through shared silence and body language. Their interaction is a delicate dance of proximity and hesitation. There's an economy in the acting—a slight shift in gaze, a hesitant touch of hands—that conveys volumes about their mutual recognition of a bond that is both sudden and temporary. We are given minimal backstory, which is to the film’s credit; their connection feels archetypal, representing any deep, ephemeral link forged under unusual circumstances. The performances are remarkably understated, relying heavily on the actors' ability to project longing and acceptance simultaneously.

 

Hayward’s direction is patient, allowing scenes to breathe and emotions to settle on the viewer. The film is constructed primarily of long takes and medium shots, resisting the urge to cut quickly and disrupt the mood. This measured pacing forces the audience to inhabit the space alongside the characters, feeling the slow creep of time until the inevitable parting. The narrative peaks not in a dramatic confrontation, but in a quiet, shared moment of realization, proving Hayward’s understanding that true emotional drama often resides in stillness. The use of a simple, repeated piano motif on the soundtrack acts as a poignant emotional anchor, ensuring the film's tone remains consistent, even during moments of silence.

 

I Met Her on the Promenade is a poignant exercise in cinematic minimalism. Trevor Hayward successfully distills the universal experience of a beautiful but short-lived encounter into a taut, evocative short film. It is a minor masterpiece of mood and performance proof that a strong sense of place and subtle human interaction can be far more powerful than elaborate plot mechanics. Actor Collins deserves an award for his sensitive portrayal of a character that will leave you in tears. This delightful indie film did receive two awards for best film and direction, and deservedly so. It leaves the viewer with a lingering sense of melancholy and the feeling of sand on their shoes—with an ambiguous conclusion that leaves you wanting more.

A perfect, wonderful cinematic experience.

 

Coming to AMAZON PRIME 2026

 

Review by Emily Faulkner.