Hamnet first premiered back in September at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) and immediately shot up to the top of my most anticipated list. Not because it was directed by Oscar-winning Nomadland director Chloé Zhao. Not because it was produced by Steven Spielberg and Sam Mendes. Not even because it starred Paul Mescal. But because the most common review/reaction coming out of the film was that it will make you sob. You might be wondering, “Would that be any different from anything else for you? You cry at everything.” And you would be right to think that. But I think a movie that’s intended to make you cry is different from one where that may or may not be your reaction. As a frequent crier, I’ve come all the way around on it. It used to be something I was embarrassed by, how easily I’m brought to tears, but now I own it. It’s just who I am. And I think crying is healthy. Sometimes you just need a good cry. That cathartic release. And it’s so much better when that can come at the hands of a great movie. That’s what I was bringing into Hamnet. I was ready to be emotionally manipulated. And then, like with other films I heard a lot about before actually seeing this year, I started to worry it might have been overhyped. And what if I was the one person who actually didn’t cry? Well, again like with those other films this year, I should not have worried. When Hamnet hit its emotional climax, I actually sat back and thought to myself in the theater, “I can’t believe I thought I might not cry.” It was impossible not to. And then! On the way home from the theater, I was talking about the parts that made me cry and started crying again. So, yeah, I would say the movie definitely delivered on that front. But, believe it or not, Hamnet actually has more to offer than just waterfalls of tears. It’s beautiful and gut-wrenching and raw with powerhouse performances. However, although I usually don’t mind a “light on plot, heavy on vibes” kind of movie, this one felt just a teensy bit too sparse in the story for me to be able to fully love it like I wanted to.

Hamnet is adapted from the novel of the same name by Maggie O’Farrell. I haven’t read it but I have read another of O’Farrell’s popular works of historical fiction, The Marriage Portrait (and I think I was the only one in my book club who actually liked it). O’Farrell is credited as a co-writer on the film alongside director Chloé Zhao. Before I get into the story of the movie, I just want to issue a spoiler warning here. If you don’t want to know anything about Hamnet, stop reading now. I had to get that out of the way because something I thought was a well-known plot point baked into the promotion of the film was treated like a reveal inside of the movie, which was kind of bizarre to me. And that fact was that this is a story about William Shakespeare. Hamnet tells a fictionalized account (reminder again that this is historical FICTION, so no one should be out here critiquing the accuracy) of Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) and his wife Agnes (Jessie Buckley) as they fall in love, start a family, and then face unexpected tragedy after the death of their 11-year-old son, Hamnet. William then channels this loss into writing one of his most celebrated works, Hamlet. I assumed this was just an accepted part of the story upfront, that the logline for the film included that Hamnet was about Shakespeare. But then the movie never comes right out and says that until the very end, opting only to include some teasing moments of famous Shakespeare dialogue throughout to hint at “Husband’s” (as the closed captioning names him) identity (which I honestly found pretty corny). I learned after the fact that, in O’Farrell’s book, Shakespeare is never identified by name. In retrospect it makes sense. This isn’t his story after all. 

The protagonist of Hamnet is Agnes. She’s the first character we meet, she’s the one we spend time with when she gives birth to her children, as she raises them in the countryside when William is off working in London, and as she deals with her grief after Hamnet’s death. Grief is the thematic center of the film. Love and loss. We see grief portrayed through both a personal and universal lens. When Hamnet dies, we are right there with Agnes in real time experiencing it. It is excruciating to feel and witness. Then we go through it all again when William arrives home to the news. These are two people who lost the same person in the same way, but they cope with their grief differently. William goes back to London and throws himself into his work. Agnes becomes withdrawn and bitter. She blames Will for not being there when Hamnet died and becomes only more angry at him for seemingly moving on and going back to life as usual. Shared trauma can bring people closer or it can drive a wedge. But it’s funny how emotions that feel so personal and specific to us and our unique situations are actually not as singular as we might believe. It can be so isolating to think like you are the only one who feels like this, who has ever felt like this, and no one can or would understand. That’s where art can be a great unifier. I say all the time that one of the main reasons I love Taylor Swift so much is because she writes songs about really specific moments and occurrences in her personal life and yet they somehow feel like she wrote them about me and my life. Like she read my mind or my non-existent diary. And making those connections heals everyone because we all realize we’re not alone. William expresses his grief through his art and produces Hamlet. Agnes is resentful because she doesn’t understand it. Until she goes to see the play performed. The film’s final crescendo shows not just Agnes, but the rest of the large crowd in the playhouse as well, being deeply moved and touched by the story. It taps into Agnes’ specific grief as it is based on the loss of her son but also into different experiences of grief that every single other person there has felt as well. Director Chloé Zhao has said she didn’t really get Hamlet much before reading O’Farrell’s novel. But then viewing the play through the lens of a son’s death opened it up to her. “In our version of the story, [we] know where that inspiration comes from — the two fundamental human conditions, love and death. That’s how, in our story, [Shakespeare] birthed Hamlet,” she told The Hollywood Reporter. Love and death are universal. Grief is universal. You don’t have to understand Shakespeare to understand how grief feels. That’s why the play endures, why the story endures. Because Shakespeare turned his own personal tragedy into a tale that millions of people could relate to in their own ways. 

And through that shared grief comes room for hope. A path to carry on. In the show Hamlet, Agnes gets to see her son living out his dreams of performing on stage in his dad’s plays and can get some closure and satisfaction out of that. He will forever be immortalized up on that stage. For some, it’s the infamous line “To be or not to be.” Zhao presents the phrase as not just a contemplation of suicide but a question of how to live. How can you live life to the fullest knowing that death is inevitable? How can you live at all? William’s mother says in the film, “What is given may be taken away at any time.” Does that warning make it easier or harder to go on each day? Chloé Zhao said to Deadline on the subject, “there is this fear of death that is quite strong. And I think when you’re afraid of death, you really are afraid of living. And if you’re afraid of loss, then you’re afraid of love at the same time, because how can you love with your heart open if your nervous system can’t stand loss? How can you live to the fullest if you’re so afraid to die? So, the paradox of this — the brighter the summer, the deeper the winter — is that’s the paradox of the human experience. It was really important for me to explore that as well.” “Keep your heart open” is a refrain repeated often by Agnes and her brother Bartholomew (Joe Alwyn). One Agnes strays from but is brought back to again in the end. The protective shell she forms around herself in the wake of Hamnet’s death is broken by William’s play as she realizes that keeping your heart open means accepting that love and loss are inseparable and life means nothing if you don’t let yourself feel both.

Zhao has formed somewhat of a reputation of being an expert at depicting landscapes. Hamnet is no different. The woods and nature are a huge part of the film both visually and in the story. The color palette and compositions are vast and lush. But it does become a little bit overdone, constantly cutting back to shots of trees and plants. In Variety’s review of the film, they referenced a quote on the role of nature from an older interview with Zhao: “Zhao pointed out the way the masculine and feminine forces in our world are completely out of balance. ‘It’s got nothing to do with gender,’ Zhao told me. She was referring to energy: Civilization is masculine; nature is feminine. ‘We as an industry are built on celebrating masculine qualities in storytelling and in life.’” You could do an entire deep-reading of this movie through the “nature is feminine” lens. That idea comes through strongly. And I do find it interesting. But at the same time, it makes the movie somewhat impenetrable for wide audiences and gives it an artsy, highbrow sheen. When, in reality, it’s about something everyone can easily relate to: grief. One of my favorite parts of the film was how quiet it was most of the time. That can sometimes make it seem too self-serious but, in this case, it allowed you to hear everyone in the theater sniffling and crying at the saddest parts and it was amazing. That’s what the theatrical experience is about and that’s what the movie is and should be about: the communal expression of emotion.

Besides the crying, the biggest talking point coming out of the film is the incredible performances. Jessie Buckley is and has been the front runner for Best Actress at the Academy Awards for months now, so a win for her feels very likely. And deserved. Most obviously for her big emotional swings: her truly soul-shattering, guttural show of devastation at the loss of her child, her wild and fierce motherly protectiveness when she gives birth, her quiet, awe-stuck tears during the performance of Hamlet. But some of her best acting comes in less dramatic scenes. Early in the film, she asks William to tell her a story. He recites the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice (just one of many popular pieces of entertainment to co-opt this Greek myth in recent years). Paul Mescal as William does a great job of being an engaging storyteller. But the real show is on Jessie Buckley’s face as he talks. She makes a similar expression watching Hamlet in the final scene. You can see in her eyes the way she is fully captivated by what she’s watching. And not just watching but totally consumed by. It’s such an impressive piece of acting to be more interesting to look at while watching a performance than the performance itself. Paul Mescal was good as well although not the emotional center of the movie. But really the other standout performance in the film was Jacobi Jupe as Hamnet. This kid is 12 years old being incredibly cute and tender and moving. In a masterstroke of casting, Jacobi’s older brother, Noah, plays Hamlet in the performance of the play at the end of the film. He also does a fantastic job of bringing passion to the iambic pentameter and his resemblance to his brother adds to the emotional catharsis. Oh, and another Joe Alwyn jumpscare (I kind of bookended the year with these. Unintentionally, of course).

I really liked Hamnet, but just didn’t love it. There is so much in this movie to like, I just wish those elements were played into a little more. The entire final scene at the playhouse is incredible. Not only did it look amazing and being inside that theater felt like a portal back to that time, but also, as a nerdy fan of Shakespeare, I loved seeing Hamlet performed (I really need to find a way to get tickets to Shakespeare in the Park next summer). The scene also felt propulsive. There was action, there was emotion, there were multiple things happening on screen at the same time. As opposed to other long stretches in the film that feel much more bare. Again, I usually don’t mind that kind of storytelling but, for some reason, Hamnet left me wanting a little more. Overall, I just think presenting this story in a way that can be perceived as highbrow and pretentious does create a barrier to entry for many people when really, underneath the artsy visual-style and Shakespearean language, the themes are ones every single person can relate to. If you like historical fiction and/or feel like being devastated, I would definitely recommend checking out Hamnet.

2025 Count: 79 movies, 50 seasons of television, 5 specials