‘Hamnet’: A Beautiful And Visceral Meditation on Grief

Everyone knows who William Shakespeare is. There is perhaps not a single writer in history more well-known than him. A story about his life would certainly be ripe with potential. One would then think a dramatized retelling about his family life from the perspective of his wife, Anne Hathaway, appears comparatively less exciting. Yet Maggie O’Farrell took that idea and ran with it, creating an acclaimed novel. Chloé Zhao then made it her mission to make a film adaptation of this very novel. And it is one of the best films to come out of 2025.

Hamnet, based on the 2020 novel of the same name, is a biographical period drama film that tells the story of Agnes, played by Jessie Buckley, as she falls in love with William Shakespeare, played by Paul Mescal. The film goes on to tell the story of their family life in all its aspects, with particular focus on the death of their son Hamnet, played by Jacobi Jupe. What follows is a riveting tale as the pair grapple with their grief, culminating in Shakespeare writing one of his greatest tragedies, Hamlet. The film was released on Wednesday, November 26, 2025. It was directed by Chloé Zhao, who also co-wrote the film alongside Maggie O’Farrell.

There is a lot to unpack with this film. Any story about Shakespeare is instantly in dialogue with not only his texts, but also every work of literature that came forth because of them. The plot wisely chooses to focus more on the relationship between Agnes and Shakespeare, rather than overshadow it all with the sheer size of Shakespeare’s place in literary history. At no point is the story bogged down or muddled by references or reverence to his work. The film only mentions his name once throughout its entire runtime, which showcases an excellent level of restraint on the part of Zhao and O’Farrell. Sufficed to say, the focus is where it should be: on Agnes, on character relationships, and the central themes of the film.  

The story excellently explores the struggles of motherhood and grief. The first half, up until the death of Hamnet, showcases the growing relationship between Agnes and Shakespeare, their marriage, and how that affects their closest family members. This culminates in a gruelling scene where Agnes gives birth to twins. It is unflinching and detailed, making it a remarkable showcase of the struggles of motherhood as well as serving as appropriate foreshadowing for what is to come. The second half of the film is a detailed exploration of grief, its effects on both Agnes and William, and how it is ultimately resolved. The film takes the appropriate amount of time to build up Hamnet’s death, to make its impact as strong as possible, but it does not get lost in its build-up. It devotes enough time to the aftermath and resolution, and shows how despite losing Hamnet, his memory lives on in both the hearts of his parents and the art that Shakespeare creates from his grief.

With all this in mind, the brunt of the film’s emotion falls on the talents of its cast, specifically Jessie Buckley as Agnes. She is the film’s protagonist, its emotional anchor, and the star of the film’s most visceral scenes. The awards buzz around Buckley is truly deserved, for she gives one of the finest performances of the decade. It would not be an exaggeration to say that this film is built around this single performance and that everything is inspired by it. Every moment when Agnes is on-screen is riveting as Buckley displays every ounce of her talent. From the very start of the film, the audience can tell that Agnes is a complex character through the subtlest changes in Buckley’s line delivery and facial expressions. Her moments of warmth and love feel so authentic and true, which allows the audience to truly become invested in her struggles later on in the film. Scenes where a character gives birth have been done often, but never has one felt so visceral and heart-pounding as the one found here. Buckley’s performance in this scene is simply outstanding. Everything from pain, grief, relief, and fear are all masterfully portrayed in this moment. What is arguably more amazing is that this might not even be the best-acted scene in the film. The latter half of the film showcases Buckley’s finest work. When Hamnet dies, Agnes’ reaction is gut-wrenching. It’s a moment that everyone can see coming, yet Buckley somehow manages to make it feel like a genuinely shocking moment. The audience feels her pain in that moment. This excellence of performance is sustained all the way to the film’s end and is by far its finest achievement.

That’s not to say the supporting cast doesn’t also pull their weight. Even though he is in a supporting role, Mescal makes every moment count as William Shakespeare. He masters the man’s obsession over his work, his charisma, and his grief. He feels like a man defined by his work, but also one who cares greatly about his family despite that. The clear standout for Mescal is a scene where he is rehearsing Hamlet with actors. As the actors fumble the lines, the combination of his grief and frustration eats away at Shakespeare until he snaps at them. Mescal perfectly embodies all this with just his facial expressions and line deliveries. Another notable achievement of this film is the performances of Jacobi Jupe and Olivia Lynes as Hamnet and Judith, respectively. They’re both incredibly believable and authentic thanks to excellent directing and writing, especially Hamnet. Zhao and O’Farrell are able to make the audience enjoy Hamnet’s presence in such a short amount of time by making him a fully-fledged character, as opposed to just a sweet child who has little to offer other than being sweet. This results in the grief following his death feeling authentic, rather than cheap and manipulative. The film highlights the importance of every family member and how the loss of one shakes everyone.

Of course, none of this excellence is truly possible without the impeccable direction of Chloé Zhao. She and cinematographer Łukasz Żal do a remarkable job at immersing the audience in this time period and the characters’ struggles. During the strongest emotional moments, Zhao employs long takes to remarkable effect, making the scenes feel as realistic as possible. Even in the quiet moments of joy and reflection, the cinematography and editing lend to a feeling of dreaminess and life, which contrasts excellently in the moments of sorrow. The first half feels so full of life compared to the second half, and that is thanks to the sublime direction.

The authenticity is further enhanced by strong set and costume design. The period feels lived in, with great attention to detail. Those who are extremely picky may notice a few anachronisms, like Shakespeare’s flawless swimming technique, the use of ‘hello,’ or the layout of the Globe Theatre. None of it ruins the substance of the film, but there are a few times when the dialogue sounds a bit too modern. However, at no point does it contradict the story, and it’s clear any anachronistic-sounding dialogue was carefully considered since the film is condensing a good lot of book material and sometimes must push the audience in a certain direction in an unsubtle way.

What might make or break people’s view of the film is its ending. The final scene is perhaps Hamnet’s densest, where Agnes witnesses the debut of Hamlet. It is the one moment where the film becomes truly reverential of William Shakespeare and his work, and it does highlight how this story is building upon Shakespeare’s timeless work as opposed to constructing something original of its own. Referencing Hamlet does certainly draw attention to the play’s timeless nature, but it could invite unfavorable comparisons for some viewers. It is ultimately up to the audience whether or not this undermines the film’s writing, but fortunately, the emotions of the scene are not compromised by this, and it remains a beautiful depiction of acceptance.

What may compromise the ending, however, is the musical score. The film’s composer is Max Richter, and the score itself is sparingly used. This allows the performances, diegetic sound, and action in front of the camera to be the sole focus. The emotions do not need to be enhanced by the score in any way. When it is employed, it is done so sparingly, with the main motif being a tragic melody of piano notes. This is not the case in the film’s ending, which decides to use Max Richter’s On the Nature of Daylight. It is a piece that has been used in films and TV shows such as Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival, Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island, and HBO’s The Last of Us. It has become all too recognizable, used often to elicit strong emotions, and thus stands out, possibly for the wrong reason. It does not match up with the rest of the film’s score, and its use could unfortunately undermine the emotions of the scene. It is the only moment where the film’s authenticity falters and feels like a more deliberate and cheaper manipulation of the audience’s emotions. For those unfamiliar with the song, it will undoubtedly cause waterworks, and even for those who are aware of it, the acting, storytelling, and filmmaking are so strong that it may still bring them to tears. It just feels a tad disappointing since the original score of the film is excellent, and utilizing it in this moment would have felt more appropriate. For all the effort put into the rest of the film, to do this at the very end of the film does run the risk of undermining everything. Ultimately, this choice does not ruin Hamnet, but it is an otherwise questionable decision that stands out due to the rest of the film’s excellence.

Overall, Hamnet is a beautiful film and could be Chloé Zhao’s finest work to date. If there is any reason to watch this film, it is for Jessie Buckley’s performance, which may very well be a career best. Almost everything about Hamnet is perfectly done. The supporting cast is all excellent, and Zhao’s direction and script really lend authenticity to every moment. It is an emotional rollercoaster that takes its time and provides an excellent meditation on the nature of grief. Even a slight fumble at the film’s climax is not enough to diminish its excellence.