Hamnet Might Make You Cry—But That Doesn’t Make It Great

by

Do men and women experience grief in different ways, or do they just express it differently – sometimes not at all? Chloe Zhao’s film, Hamnet, explores themes of family and loss. If you prefer to go in knowing as little as possible, or haven’t read Maggie O’Farrell’s 2020 novel, it’s best to stop reading now. Since its premiere, Hamnet has become known as a guaranteed tearjerker, but don’t worry if you don’t cry – that doesn’t mean it’s a bad film. Whether a movie makes you weep is a personal experience and doesn’t reflect its quality. While watching Hamnet, I didn’t cry during the expected emotional moments. Instead, I felt the strongest empathy for the actor who seemed to be doing the most subtle work, and it wasn’t Jessie Buckley.

In Maggie O’Farrell’s Hamnet, Jessie Buckley shines as Agnes, a woman living in Stratford, England during the late 1500s and early 1600s. The story begins with Agnes as a young woman taken in by a family after being orphaned, but she always feels like an outsider. She’s different because her mother was known as a witch – someone with a unique ability to perceive things others couldn’t – and Agnes inherited this gift. It’s quickly established that she’s considered a child of the forest, with a special connection to nature. Agnes is fiercely independent, spending her time in the woods gathering herbs and befriending a spirited hawk. This changes when she meets William (Paul Mescal), a shy and somewhat troubled young man, and a romance begins.

Agnes and William fall in love and have a child before they are married, which upsets Agnes’ adoptive family. However, her adopted brother, Bartholomew, remains supportive. They eventually marry, and while William’s mother, played by Emily Watson, doesn’t fully approve of Agnes, she reluctantly accepts her and has strong opinions about proper behavior. Agnes chooses to give birth alone in the woods, wearing a red dress, and the baby arrives peacefully amongst the trees. Despite the unconventional setting, it’s a remarkably dignified birth.

Agnes is happy raising her child and collecting plants, but her husband, William, has become withdrawn and drinks heavily. He also deeply resents working for his harsh father. To escape the situation, Agnes sends William to London, where he finds a job making gloves for a theater company. He returns home seemingly transformed. They soon have twins, Judith and Hamnet (played by Olivia Lynes and Jacobi Jupe), but Agnes’ mother-in-law insists the babies be born at home with a midwife, a decision Agnes reluctantly accepts, feeling too powerless to argue. She’s also troubled by a worrying feeling. Despite William’s frequent absences, life generally improves, and the twins thrive. William especially loves his son, Hamnet, and becomes the father he always wished he had, teaching him about swordsmanship and the world of theater.

All of this background sets the stage for the film’s central tragedy: the death of Hamnet from the Bubonic plague. Both parents are understandably devastated. Agnes withdraws into herself, becoming apathetic and remote. William copes with his grief by writing a play destined to become a classic—and, as the film reveals (spoiler alert!), he’s the inspiration behind Shakespeare’s Hamlet, a play closely linked to his son’s name, Hamnet, as established in an opening title card.

By now, the play is clearly aiming to evoke strong emotions, and while Jessie Buckley is a talented actress – her subtle smile is captivating – the overly sentimental presentation of Hamnet actually weakens her performance. Instead of letting moments speak for themselves, the director layers on unnecessary effects. For example, during a scene meant to be deeply painful, ethereal music plays, feeling like a cue for magical creatures to add to the sadness. The director doesn’t trust the audience to understand Buckley’s expressions; a powerful moment is ruined by an added, unnecessary scream. Hamnet is visually beautiful, with carefully crafted lighting and textures, but these details don’t ultimately serve a greater purpose.

Paul Mescal delivers a quietly impressive performance in the film. Early on, while Buckley’s character, Agnes, is establishing her wild, witchy persona, Mescal portrays William as a sweetly naive and smitten young man. He tries to win Agnes over with thoughtful gifts, like a handmade falconry glove, but she quickly dismisses his gesture with a dry remark and a casual toss of the glove. It’s a brief, beautifully captured moment that stands out in a film often focused on grand displays of emotion disguised as intimacy.

Despite the profound pain of a mother’s loss, Paul Mescal’s portrayal of a man’s grief feels particularly powerful. His character, William, is deeply closed off, unable to express or even process his feelings, and finds solace only in writing a play. The performance of Hamlet—brought to life by the incredibly talented Noah Jupe, known for films like A Quiet Place and Dreamin’ Wild—becomes a pivotal moment. (Jupe’s younger brother plays Hamnet.) Earlier, we see William directing the young actor with a harshness that seems almost deliberate. The inexperienced performer struggles with the lines, unable to deliver them as William envisions them, feeling the weight of the words in his own heart. Mescal masterfully conveys William’s internal suffering without relying on dramatic displays. He shows us a pain that isn’t an absence, but a deep, consuming ache that has settled into the very core of his being, with nowhere left to go.

The movie Hamnet is inspired by a fascinating idea and historical events. While based on a novel by Maggie O’Farrell, it’s rooted in the real loss of William Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway’s 11-year-old son, Hamnet, in 1596. The story imagines what Anne’s life was like and explores the immense grief she experienced. Historically, women’s personal experiences often receive less attention than men’s achievements, but this film centers on Anne while also portraying Shakespeare as a profoundly gifted man wrestling with his sorrow. Paul Mescal delivers a compelling performance as Shakespeare, a master of language who finds himself trapped by his own pain – a powerful depiction of the all-consuming nature of grief.

Read More

2025-11-27 16:06