Hamnet

Chloé Zhao’s latest film is a testimony for the necessity of art in a world of grief

This review contains minor spoilers for Hamnet

Throughout the annals of history, many bards have made their mark on the ever evolving landscape of the arts. From the epic, Greek poems of Homer, to the Latin works of Virgil and through the inferno depicted by Dante, story tellers have always walked the Earth and shared with the world their tales. As time moves on, these story tellers come and go, and while some of their stories live on, many often fall behind, frozen in time or forgotten forever. But fear not, for not only will new story tellers emerge, but new methods in which they share their tales do as well. From the spoken word to the written, the audible to visual, stories come in many different forms. One of those forms, in recent years, has arguably become the most popular; the motion picture. And the story tellers emerging through this relatively young art form have come and gone, just as those before them. However, every so often a new story teller comes along and makes their name known. One such story teller is writer and director Chloé Zhao, and her latest motion picture Hamnet tells a story with inflections from arguably the greatest story teller of all time, William Shakespeare.

Hamnet doesn’t tell the tale of Shakespeare, though he is part of the story. No, Hamnet is a tale of grief, loss and tragedy, told through the eyes of Agnes Hathaway, Shakespeare’s wife and mother to their children, as she navigates the pain that inspired one of the worlds great works, Hamlet. Played by Jessie Buckley (who has recently won a Golden Globe for her performance as Agnes, along with the film taking away Best Picture - Drama) and Paul Mescal respectively, Agnes and William are seen early in the film meeting and quickly falling love. One a destined scholar and playwright that the world knows and loves, the other an outcast who spends her time connecting with nature and continuing the traditions passed down to her by her deceased mother. Traditions that are referenced by some as ‘witch craft’. Not only in the way she crafts medicines with the plants of the forest, but also by her mysterious claims to see the future; a future for which she foresees greatness for William and herself dying with two children by her side.

Shortly after their unexpected marriage, Agnes gives birth to the couples first child, a young girl named Susanna, who is delivered in the woods just as her mother was. As William works, Agnes raises Susanna and eventually the family is expecting their second child. While William is away in London, Agnes begins to deliver the child, a boy named Hamnet. However, she does not birth only Hamnet. Instead, she has twins, also giving birth to a girl named Judith. Initially appearing stillborn, Agnes fears her premonition of dying with two children has come true. That is until Judith wakes up and the new children are allowed to grow together, close as twins so often do. However, tragedy looms over the heads of the family as the years pass and the world finds itself in a state of fear as a plague runs rampant and eventually takes the life of young Hamnet.

This is where the crux of Zhao’s film comes to the utmost forefront and is put on complete display for the audience to see. Zhao and co-writer Maggie O’Farrell, who penned the 2020 novel the film is based upon, strike a brilliant balance between humanist drama, magical realism and intimate tragedy all throughout Hamnet. Not only do the two strike that balance on the page, but Zhao and her performers manage to deliver what is one of the most fulfilling cinema experiences of 2025. Along with cinematographer Lukasz Zal, Zhao creates beautiful images of the British country side, highlight the deep forests and the powerful trees that inhabit such spaces. These moments act as both an alluring pull towards nature, but also as a haunting reminder of the ever looming and inescapable power of mother nature.

Inside of these moments, the audience is also treated to two incredible lead performances from Buckley and Mescal. The two have a chemistry that feels incredibly real and palpable, sharing not only moments of romance in their marriage, but also the frustrations that come with parenthood and the balance of family and ones self. Where Buckley’s Agnes is often times frustrated with Mescal’s William, he is equally frustrated with his work as he sinks deeper into it and further from his family; especially in desperate times of need. What Zhao manages to portray through all of the two’s struggles is the various ways that people can and will deal with moments of sadness and grief. Where one may try to face things head on, another will withdraw and express themselves in other ways. In the case of William, it’s poetry and performance.

The grief faced by the family leads to one of the most beloved and powerful pieces of art ever created, in the form of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet. In the play’s maiden performance, Agnes frustratingly watches as she sees the ghost of her son on stage in the form of Hamlet, a character whose name is shared with her deceased son. Agnes anger eventually turns to sadness, and happiness, as she begins to see the power of William’s art form and understand the way in which his grief was manifested, something she initially cannot understand. This sequence makes for one of the strongest cases for the necessity of art, not only as a form of entertainment, but for a way people can express and experience emotions and feelings; especially the difficult ones. Chloé Zhao’s final moments linger on Mescal and Buckley’s faces as they finally understand one another and quietly spend time with their son. A son who will never grow old, but a son who will live forever within the play. And if audiences can still see the film through the tears they are sure to shed, they too will understand the importance of story tellers like Chloé Zhao and what a beautiful motion picture Hamnet is.

Hamnet is in Australian cinemas now!