
Original caricature by Jeff York of Jessie Buckley and Paul Mascal in HAMNET (copyright 2025)
Depression and grief are tricky themes to pull off in cinema. It is excruciating enough to watch people experience loss in real life, even more difficult to abide watching it transpire onscreen under the auspices of “entertainment” in a darkened theater. Yet, some of the greatest film experiences are those films that serve as catharsis leading to a better tomorrow. ORDINARY PEOPLE, THE BIG CHILL, and GHOST were just three films that were studies of characters searching for answers to their grieving and each shared a remarkable ability to leave viewers feeling more hopeful about their own lives as they left the theater. The new drama HAMNET does so too, though it takes a while to let audiences feel there will be some relief. For two-thirds of the film, the experience feels so raw and unfair that it rattles. But in the third act, as the grieving is purposefully ladled into something constructive, the plot feels like a metaphor for the power of cinema itself.
At question is the loss of a child, one of the heaviest topics anywhere. The couple in question that loses the child is Agnes Hathaway (Jessie Buckley), an eccentric, ethereal woman, alleged to be so in touch with the Earth that she might have supernatural connections to it. She tucks into tree hollows to nap and spends oodles of times communing with nature, seeming to have premonitions of people and the world around her. Her strengths draw the attention of one Will Shakespeare (Paul Mescal), a local man tutoring children and dreaming of being a dramatist. Both Agnes and Will are operating on a more conscious level than most of those in their sleepy community of Worcester and their attraction quickly leads to marriage. Soon, they have three children together – first a daughter they name Susanna (Bodhi Rae Breathnach), then a few years later, twins Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe) and Judith (Olivia Lynes).
The five live a good life – close as a family, respected in their community, Will already finding recognition as a talented playwright in nearby Stratford. As director Chloe Zhao and her fellow screenwriter Maggie O’Farrell showcase, despite their good fortune, times then were tough for everybody. Inclement weather, back-breaking work, disease, poverty -– there were dozens of ways to watch fortunes turn upside down. One day, young Judith becomes deliriously ill, and what seems likely to come to the Shakespeare’s home is her inevitable death. However, even though a life is claimed, it is not Judith’s.
The fallout of the death takes a toll on everyone. Family and community ties are strained, Will’s work suffers, and the once idealized marriage becomes damaged. Agnes seethes, filled with rage at a world she once trusted now seemingly turning against her. Her husband doesn’t know how to respond to the tragedy, or her for that matter, internalizing most of his angst and occasionally acting out in violence. The rest of the family and community are crestfallen too. Life is tough, but never more so when it surprises with bad luck that feels like utter cruelty.
Now, within such dramatic events, a few exciting things occur. First, that plot point allows the film to expand its scope about the human experience even more. Additionally, it allows the filmmakers to shine as they meet the revelations in stunning cinematic ways, not to mention the actors who now get to stretch their talents to meet these new, vivid emotions. Buckley has always been an extraordinarily raw and intense actress, but here her mix of sorrow and anger is so palpable it shakes you to your core. Mescal has been logging one superb performance on TV and film for the past few years, and his performance here is one of great variance and feeling. Watching him rag on an actor who isn’t getting the lines right starts off as frightful bullying before it turns into a plead to be understood by a world that he no longer can trust. The child actors are all superb too, as are Joe Alwyn as Agnes’ wise and compassionate brother and Emily Watson as Will’s knowing mother Mary.
The film’s symbolism expands more too as Zhao sprinkles in metaphors with the grace of a poet. The clothes, makeup, cinematography all feel so real and rustic here, we’re not only placed wholly in this community and period, but in the very psyches of these tragic characters we’re watching. We feel for the Shakespeare clan as if they’re our family too. Finally, when Will channels his grief into his work the final act becomes not only an artistic expression as pure as it can be, but it breaks your heart before rebuilding it in a matter of moments.
The 2020 novel by Maggie O’Farrell is even more detailed and intense, but then cinema always has certain constraints like time and efficacy. Still, HAMNET wholly packs a wallop and should connect substantially with audiences of any stripe. It touches your soul, asking us to understand that when someone you love becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure.



