by Tim Gordon
In Hamnet, Chloé Zhao strips away the legend of Shakespeare to reveal the raw, human grief that may have fueled his greatest work, a story where love and loss become inseparable, and art is born from heartbreak.
Directed by Oscar-winner Zhao and adapted from Maggie O’Farrell’s acclaimed novel, the film imagines the private lives of William Shakespeare and his wife Agnes as they navigate love, grief, and the devastating loss of their son, Hamnet, a tragedy that would later reverberate through Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
What makes Hamnet so affecting is its focus on Agnes, a woman often relegated to the margins of history but here rendered with complexity, mysticism, and strength. Jessie Buckley is mesmerizing in the role, capturing both Agnes’ vulnerability and her quiet resilience, while Paul Mescal’s Will struggles under the weight of paternal expectations and his own creative restlessness. Together, their chemistry gives the film its pulse, their intimacy grounding the story in emotion rather than myth.
Zhao’s direction embraces stillness, with long silences and careful pacing that recall the psychological tension of Ibsen’s domestic dramas, where much is communicated in what remains unsaid. For viewers attuned to this deliberate rhythm, the result is deeply rewarding.
The emotional payoff arrives in a final act that broadens the scope from private grief to collective mourning. Zhao lingers on how loss ripples outward, touching not just a family but a community, and how rituals of remembrance, whether through words, music, or art, become shared acts of survival. What might have remained a solitary tragedy transforms into something universal, a meditation on how art reframes pain and preserves memory. Rather than presenting Hamlet as a work of genius sprung fully formed from Shakespeare’s mind, Zhao suggests it as a communal outcry, one voice echoing the grief of many.
Visually, the film balances earthiness and transcendence. Zhao’s affinity for natural light and open landscapes mirrors the characters’ emotional isolation while also offering moments of quiet grace. The screenplay resists the temptation to over-explain, leaving space for the audience to feel rather than be told, even if that restraint may frustrate those seeking a more conventional narrative.
Ultimately, Hamnet is not just a portrait of grief but also a meditation on how art can emerge from pain, reshaping private sorrow into something timeless and communal. With Zhao’s delicate touch and two towering performances at its center, the film stands as one of the year’s most powerful and intimate dramas.
Grade: A