Introduction
How does a director bounce back after being widely considered the wrong fit for a Marvel movie? If you’re Chloé Zhao, the answer is to leap from adapting the cosmic visions of Jack Kirby to telling an intimate story rooted in the life of the world’s greatest writer, William Shakespeare. Hamnet is the result, and it’s an astonishing film. Zhao delivers something remarkably close to a masterpiece in her adaptation of Maggie O’Farrell’s 2020 novel of the same name.
Synopsis
Hamnet takes place in Britain in the late 1500s. Agnes (pronounced nothing like the name looks on paper) is viewed as a bit of an oddity and possibly even the daughter of a witch. She spends her days wandering the woods with her falcon, entirely at ease in her solitude. Will, meanwhile, is tutoring her brothers to help pay off his father’s debts to the family. It doesn’t take long for him to fall for Agnes.
Their courtship is fast, passionate, and a little reckless, and it culminates in pregnancy and marriage despite his mother’s objections. Years pass, and the couple has three children: their eldest daughter, Susannah, and twins Hamnet and Judith. Will, unable to make a living in their small village, has left for London to write and produce plays. (I’m sure that career path will work out great for him. Hmm.)
Discussion
Zhao’s filmmaking is breathtaking here. Nearly every frame is gorgeous, drenched in the natural beauty of the Herefordshire countryside. It’s easy to see why Agnes is so devoted to her woods. The village feels authentically rough—grimy in the right places, while the home Agnes and Will build together is warm and alive with love. Agnes is far more of a herbalist than a witch, and Will is an intellectual in a time when being intelligent is often seen as unnecessary or even suspicious.
The screenplay for Hamnet, co-written by Zhao and O’Farrell, is excellent. I haven’t read the novel, but the film brings these characters to life with such clarity and emotion that I never felt like I was missing anything. The performances are uniformly outstanding.
Performances
Jessie Buckley is sensational as Agnes. She gives one of the year’s best performances. Every emotion radiates off her, from her early wariness of Will to the joy she finds in motherhood, to the devastation that hollowed me out as a viewer. I felt everything she felt. It’s a remarkable piece of acting.
Paul Mescal matches her beautifully as Will. He’s charming and playful in the early courtship, heartbreaking in his limitations, and deeply human as he wrestles with guilt and sorrow. Emily Watson, as Will’s mother, Mary, is a treasure. She begins as a hard-edged, overprotective presence, but gradually reveals a layered, compassionate woman who becomes a loving grandmother and a fiercely loyal mother-in-law. You start really not liking her and end up completely won over.
![HAMNET - Official Trailer [HD] - Only In Theaters This Thanksgiving](https://i0.wp.com/i.ytimg.com/vi/xYcgQMxQwmk/hqdefault.jpg?ssl=1)
Their children are a delight. They live in joy, learning nature from their mother and the wider world from their father. The twins, in particular, are bound by a connection deeper than simple siblinghood. And then tragedy strikes: one twin sacrifices themself for the other. From that moment on, the film becomes a profound meditation on death and grief. Jacobi Jupe as Hamnet is the standout. He radiates joy, steals his scenes effortlessly, and brings such vulnerability to the film’s most emotional moment that I nearly cried right along with him.
Conclusion
Hamnet is a beautiful, grief-soaked, deeply human film and one of Zhao’s finest works. It’s a story about love, loss, memory, and art, and it lingers long after the credits roll. And that resonance hit me on a personal level. I struggle with death, its finality. Zhao and O’Farrell capture all of that with remarkable sensitivity. They show how grief fractures a family, yes, but also how it reshapes them, how it can deepen the meaning of life even as it devastates it.
What moved me most is how the film ties that pain to Shakespeare’s greatest work, reframing art as an act of healing. The way Zhao resolves the emotional arc isn’t just cathartic, it’s life-affirming. In a world that feels increasingly heavy, a film willing to confront sorrow while still offering something uplifting feels like a gift.
Zhao may have made her best film to date. I’d be shocked if this doesn’t end up as an Oscar contender; it’s certainly one of my favorites of the year. The movie has everything: stunning visuals, phenomenal performances, and a story that grabs hold and doesn’t let go.
So, to see or not to see?
No hesitation—see it.
