What’s more universal are the lingering feelings of loss and wasted time, and that wondering of what could have been. It’s a heartbreaking theme to reflect on both in terms of real-world consequences and for the characters at hand, and it’s one that may leave you just a little teary-eyed by the film’s closing moments.

Styles, night and day here compared to his work in that other fall release, wonderfully inhabits a working-class man fearful of public scrutiny but unable to hide his true self.

The 1990s framing device keeps pulling us out of the 1950s love story, sapping its power.

Alas, the older actors don’t have all that much to do (editor Chris Dickens keeping cutting back to McKee reading), but the younger trio are strong, albeit restrained, in their roles. Corrin, so great as a wife betrayed in “The Crown” (they played Princess Diana), could do this role in their sleep, while Styles has the tricky task of making Tom’s betrayal feel tragic for all involved.

My Policeman isn’t not arresting, and that’s thanks to the work of David Dawson and Emma Corrin, and not the film’s top biller, who was never the lead at all.