Hamnet
Hamnet is a gorgeous film about catharsis through art, but its tension, discomfort and lack of rhythm make for an alienating watch
A well-constructed but contrived family drama, Chloé Zhao's Hamnet centres on William Shakespeare’s wife Agnes, played with feral energy by Jessie Buckley. Like the 2020 book by Maggie O’Farrell on which it's based, the film reverently tiptoes into the Bard's quarters to weave facts and fiction into the genesis of Hamlet.
As with all Zhao's previous films, her latest is a feast of vibrant colours and lively sounds, with nature’s tapestry providing the backdrop to Agnes and Will’s (Paul Mescal) romance and domestic life, which turns ominous after their son Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe) dies. Mescal draws on his Aftersun turn to portray a tormented Shoreditch Shakespeare, an ‘iPhone face’ version of the Bard that universalises this tale of loss but is occasionally distracting.
Luckily, though, this isn’t Shakespeare’s story. Buckley is magnificent as an untamed woman whose spirit remains unbridled even when embracing the consuming roles of wife, mother, and daughter. As a celebration of her uniqueness and creativity rivalling those of her husband, Hamnet is undeniably Agnes’s. Her howling grief and Will’s restrained sorrow struggle to meet halfway when renegotiating death. This tension shapes the film, which feels as intense and uncomfortable as prolonged eye contact, but, at times, just as artificial.
Zhao’s latest unfolds slowly, with Max Richter’s grandiose score and Buckley’s performance hustling to make up for the movie’s lack of rhythm. Gasping for the authenticity of the filmmaker’s previous works, Hamnet ultimately alienates as it searches for a tempo and a truth of its own.
Released 9 Jan by Universal; certificate 12A