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A powerful story of love and loss that inspired the creation of Shakespeare’s timeless masterpiece, “Hamlet”.
“Hamnet” unfolds against the backdrop of a family shattered by loss, exploring the deep emotional currents surrounding the death of Shakespeare’s young son and the way this tragedy resonates in the creation of Hamlet, a play that shares his name. Rather than centering solely on the playwright himself, the film adopts the perspective of his wife, Agnes, and the family as they navigate a grief so profound it ultimately shapes one of literature’s most enduring works.
The film begins with a gentle sense of domestic life, showing a family wrapped in simple, happy routines and small joys as they start a new family. Director Chloé Zhao moves through this world with calm patience, allowing the audience to settle into the rhythm of everyday life before the film’s emotional weight begins to sink in. There is a grounded warmth to the opening scenes that makes the impending loss feel all the more heartbreaking.
As the narrative deepens, the gentle cadence of domestic life begins to fracture. What first feels like a story of ordinary joys takes a sudden, crushing turn when Hamnet’s illness emerges, and the inevitability of loss settles like a shadow over every frame. Zhao infuses these moments with an almost otherworldly stillness; a veil of the afterlife seems to hover, as if death itself were a quiet presence in the home, watching and waiting. This mystical undertone does not overwhelm the realism but amplifies the sense that grief is not just an emotion here; it is a force shaping the family’s world long before the final blow.
Jesse Buckley delivers the performance of the year as Agnes, portraying grief with a rawness that never feels theatrical. Her tears feel almost elemental, and her pain radiates in a profoundly human way. I felt myself tear up immediately whenever she cried because the film treats her sorrow with such honesty. The young actor who plays Hamnet brings an innocence and charm that lingers long after he is gone, making his absence echo throughout the rest of the film.
Much of “Hamnet” ’s power comes from its visual storytelling. There are quiet moments where the camera holds on a single image, asking the audience to sit with the characters as they process their loss. These scenes rely on subtle gestures, stillness, and the overwhelming silence that often follows tragedy. It is in those moments that the film becomes almost overwhelming, placing you directly inside the emotional space of Shakespeare’s family.
What surprised me most was how profoundly the film reframed my understanding of Shakespeare’s work. I have always admired his writing, but “Hamnet” offered a new lens that made his plays feel deeply rooted in lived experience. The film traces a clear emotional path from the death of his son to the creation of Hamlet, allowing viewers to see the famous text not as a distant, academic work but as something born of unimaginable grief.
The story is not a retelling of Hamlet. It is a portrait of the family who endured the loss that inspired it. Their sorrow is shared, their healing is uneven, and their bond is tested by absence. “Hamnet” asks viewers to slow down and immerse themselves in a time where grief lingered in the air for months, where art was shaped not by ambition but by the effort to understand the unimaginable.
The second half of the film hit me harder than I expected. I cried through most of it and had to force myself to blink enough to keep the screen in focus. It was the most emotional theater experience I have had in a very long time, and I left feeling both wrecked and grateful.
“Hamnet” is a powerful, profoundly moving film that offers modern audiences a compassionate look at the emotional foundation of one of history’s greatest stories. It reminds us that behind every masterpiece is a human life marked by joy, love, and loss. This film is not just a historical drama. It is a mirror held up to the past, revealing the quiet truths that shaped a legacy that still resonates today.
In Theaters Friday, December 5th

