Hamnet

A Transcendental Take on Shakespeare

Shakespeare has been a well of material for artists and filmmakers, not just through adapting his works, but his life as well. Shakespeare in Love (1998) was fun theatre-kid fanfiction, while All Is True (2018) was a deep cut for Shakespearean nerds. With her novel Hamnet, Maggie O’Farrell chose to explore the most “un-Shakespearean” aspects of the bard’s life, choosing instead his wife Anne Hathaway (not the modern actress) as the protagonist. O’Farrell has now adapted her book to the big screen alongside director Chloé Zhao.

Hamnet (2025) follows Agnes (Jesse Buckley), a wayward woman in 17th-century Stratford, England, who is called a “forest witch” due to her long absences in the nearby woods as well as her connection with nature, from her knowledge of plants to her pet hawk. Agnes falls in love with the Latin tutor to her youngest siblings, Will (Paul Mescal), who is an aspiring poet and son to an abusive glovemaker (David Wilmot).

Zhao returns to the director’s chair after a failed foray into Marvel fare with Eternals (2021), which took her outside her usual bread-and-butter of indie filmmaking. With Hamnet, you sense Zhao getting to grips again with an emotionally resonant and visually complex film, echoing her heights in Nomadland (2020). Zhao proves a perfect steward of O’Farrell’s prose, utilizing her patient and non-verbal style to exude the internal monologues and descriptions from the novel. It is through gentle pans and a reliance on elevated wide shots that Zhao adds a haunting dimension, where we feel like lingering ghosts, watching over the characters. A similar technique was used more literally in the ghost-POV film Presence (2025), albeit Zhao employs it in a more subtle and indirect way.

At its core, Hamnet is a story about nature’s power over humanity. Agnes is a vehicle through which we learn that we can only observe and make peace with the changes nature forces upon us. In many ways, the film works as a transcendentalist text, urging the expulsion of modernity and urbanism in favor of a reconnection with the natural world—and, by extension, our unfiltered selves. This is illustrated in the organic romance that develops between William and Agnes, which consumes viewers in the first act like a warm daydream.

The second act shows Agnes’ birth of her three children, notably her only son, the eponymous Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe), and their family life as William’s playwriting career takes off in offscreen London.

Zhao and O’Farrell remain firmly rooted in Stratford and its woods, showcasing Agnes’ connection to the location with a religious dimension. This singular definition of how one can connect with nature on a spiritual level is challenged when Will is unable to reach Agnes after an emotionally tragic twist. Zhao and O’Farrell use this beat to deliver a reinterpretation of the origins and reading of Hamlet. With it, Hamnet converses with Agnes’ version of the power of nature and illustrates a different way of transcending into a world beyond: through art. The final 20 minutes of Hamnet are among the most powerful and enrapturing of any 2025 film, showcasing an intersection of a 400-year-old play with a historical-fiction lens that leaves you floored by its originality and emotional depth.

Hamnet is one of the best showcases of acting in the past year, with Buckley and Mescal delivering performances I have now watched twice and still am incapable of understanding how they pulled them off. The two actors completely disappear into their roles, with Buckley the true showstopper, delivering scene after scene of heart-wrenching and all-encompassing moments. The way the Irish actress moaningly repeats, “I want my mom” in pure fear during her birth scene had me submerged in an unbroken barrage of emotions I could barely contain in the theater. Mescal is likewise strong in a less showy yet crucial role. He has shown himself extremely capable with non-verbal acting, yet here he showcases a mastery of line delivery, relishing in each word of his dialogue. Some might be taken by his delivery of famous Hamlet lines, but I was floored by a scene in which he recounts the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice to a rapt Agnes. The supporting cast delivers strong performances as well, but they are ultimately overshadowed by the two central interpretations. Jacobi Jupe as Hamnet is particularly impressive; his older brother Noah Jupe is also strong in a singular but key scene at the end, and Emily Watson is a solid anchor as William’s mother.

Zhao understands both the talent of her actors and the need for a fluid visual style for her narrative, and thus uses largely singular takes for many scenes, often going for extended stretches with a steady camera. This allows for a cheeky allusion to live theater to come through, while also transmitting the need for patient witness in order to enjoy and absorb the film’s ideas about nature.

In the end, Hamnet is a splendid and emotionally harrowing interpretation of Shakespeare and the creation of one of his best plays. With Zhao at the helm, regaining style and confidence, and two of the best performances you will ever see, Hamnet is an experience and emotional journey you will need to be fully present for—to be is the only answer here.

8.7/10