How hard is it to tell a sad story about a young couple whose child just died? What about if it's also the origin story behind one of the most acclaimed English-language plays of all time? And it features two of the finest actors of their generation, especially when it comes to conveying inner pain and turmoil? If that sounds like a lot to take in, don't worry; director Chloe Zhao (Nomadland, The Eternals) will hold your hand every step of the way.
Agnes (Jesse Buckley) is something of an outcast in her rural Medieval community. Rumours suggest she's a witch; spending her spare time in the local woods with a hawk doesn't do much to dispel them. A Tutor (Paul Mescal) finds himself drawn to her. They share a kiss in a barn, and we all know what that means.
His family (mostly notably his abusive father) aren't keen on the marriage. Her brother, who is responsible for her by law, is also dubious but trusts her judgment. Despite their love, the Tutor's writing doesn't go well, and he decamps for London while she remains behind. She has twins; one is stillborn, but revives. Things go well for a time, then don't.
It's a 500 year spoiler to reveal that young son Hamnet dies; these scenes of disease and death are the high point of the film, largely because they involve things that are actually happening in front of us. When the Tutor goes back to London to work - because by now his family are living in the biggest house in town, Will got to pay the bills - Agnes is increasingly unhappy that he doesn't seem to share her grief.
Then word reaches her that his latest play is not a comedy as she'd thought, but a tragedy titled Hamlet. Keen to correct her husband's spelling, she heads to London, where numerous falsehoods are dispelled.
One of the big advantages Hamnet has, and it takes full advantage of it, is that while most of its audience will have a rough idea of what Hamlet is about, it's not a Shakespeare play that's all that easy to see. There hasn't been a mainstream film version in decades (unlike, say, Macbeth), nor is there an obvious classic version that's readily available (Romeo & Juliet).
So when this posits that the play ends on a moment of mass emotional catharsis that's basically a group hug... well, it is an early performance, maybe Shakespeare changed a few things later on. And while the ending of Hamnet gets a lot of mileage from the play - so much so that it's reasonable to assume some of the clumsier moments beforehand are there just so the ending will seem all the more impressive - in the context of the film all Shakespeare's prose really means is "sometimes people grieve in different ways".
There are moments, mostly early on, where Hamnet gives its characters room to breathe and its story a chance to suggest more than the obvious. Buckley and Mescal are extremely good at their jobs, which here increasingly involves remaining plausible while undergoing extremes of emotion, and Buckley is fearless -though occasionally we're reminded that fear isn't always a bad thing. If this was merely the story of a young couple struggling through loss, there'd be plenty here to recommend.
Taking a classic and then revealing the "real story" of its origin can be thoughtful and entertaining, though most attempts usually settle for obvious and pandering. The drive is always to explain away rather than go deeper; it's not enough to enjoy The Lord of the Rings, we have to be told that JRR Tolkien fought in WWI... in holes... against sinister forces in black... you get the idea.
Hamnet is the kind of film that never refers to Mescal's tutor as Shakespeare, so for much of the run time maybe this is just the story of some other Middle Ages playwright - it's not like England had a shortage of them - but opens with some text pointing out that at the time the names Hamnet and Hamlet were functionally the same. It flatters the audience's intelligence, but makes sure nothing goes over their head.
To its credit, Hamnet doesn't pretend that Hamlet can be boiled down to a play about a dead child written by a grieving father. Here, Shakespeare has turned his loss into one aspect of his multifaceted art; Anges, on the other hand, turns her loss into an unforgettable tortured freak-out while seeing a performance of that art.
It's either a powerful statement on the depths of grief, or something that suggests she has never seen a play before and has no idea how they work. Which seems unlikely because her husband is William Shakespeare so let's go with the first one.
This is a film that gradually locks everything down, leaving nothing to chance or interpretation. Some subjects require this level of hand-holding: something as universal as grief, not so much. It ends up feeling both obvious and oppressive, peeking through a window at people pulled to and fro like puppets. All the world's a stage, as someone once said.
- Anthony Morris
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