By Katie Sterling
In a movie whose title references Shakespeare’s most famous work, the narrative seemingly has very little focus on the playwright himself. Rather, it delves into the largely unknown story of his son, who died young, and a mother attempting to live after grief. Hamnet, based on the bestselling book by Maggie O’Farrell, is a tragic tale of loss and how a true-life tragedy served to beget the classic tragedy told on stage.
William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) is working as a village tutor when he meets and becomes quickly beguiled by Agnes (Jessie Buckley). As the daughter of a forest witch, she is a gifted healer who prefers to spend her time in the woods. It’s her connection to nature that encapsulates the largely ethereal aesthetic of the film and for almost the entire first half, audiences feel as if they are watching a sort of fable play out on screen. It’s a quiet introduction into this world, with director Chloe Zhao integrating long stretches of screen time solely focusing on the whistling wind in the trees or a lone hawk soaring through an expansive sky. It’s at times enchanting, but also oddly eerie as you know the narrative will soon turn dark.
After a whirlwind romance, Agnes and Will have married and become parents to three children, a daughter named Susanna (Bodhi Rae Breathnach) and then subsequently twins, Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe) and Judith (Olivia Lynes). During this time, Will has become more focused on his playwriting, frequently spending time in London to get his plays on stage as his popularity is growing. Back home in the countryside, Agnes is installing her love of nature upon her children, her sense of mysticism seemingly rubbing off of them. After all, as twins, Hamnet and Judith have a sense of telepathy that only those who shared a womb can. They are exceptionally close and often disguising as each other in an attempt to trick those around them for a giggle that only eleven-year-olds can truly delight in. As the film climaxes to the inevitable death of Hamnet, it’s apparent that the bliss this little family finds comfort in will soon shatter.
The death of the young boy is perhaps the most impactful moment of the movie, both beautifully filmed and exceptionally tragic. It presents itself in an almost dreamlike state until the moment is broken as Agnes comes to the realization of what has happened and lets out an animalistic howl that only a bereft mother could. The loss is all-encompassing, made even worse by the fact that Will is away in London when it occurs. Upon his return, he is shocked to discover the loss of his child and the shadows in which Agnes has retreated into.
As typical following the death of a child, the parents grow farther apart, each grappling with grief in their own ways. Agnes becomes angry and Will retreats into his work, a choice that infuriates Agnes since it seems to her that he is simply moving on with life. Little does she know that Will is using his playwriting as an outlet for his grief and that Hamlet (often interchangeable with the word Hamnet) is his way of making sense of his personal tragedy. At the film’s climax, the message is clear that art can serve as a powerful tool for healing, something that Agnes begins to understand when she first witnesses his play.
Much like Shakespeare’s works, Hamnet is not an easily digestible film on the surface, but one that is layered with meaning and interpretation. It is at times a story of love, of grief, of spirituality and of art. Jacobi Jupe as young Hamnet encompasses a sense of innocence so pure that when he selflessly tries to offer himself in replacement of his sick sister, you can’t help but ache for him. Jessie Buckley transforms from a quiet wanderer of the woods to a mother so torn by grief, her performance as the narrative escalates is so impactful, audiences feel her anger and her sadness in their guts. This may be a film whose title is tied to Shakespeare, but make no mistake, this is Agnes’ movie and Buckley seamlessly and beautifully portrays a mother crippled by loss. Hamnet is tragic in a myriad of ways, but it also serves as a gentle reminder that healing can be found in unexpected ways.
