Hamnet (dir. Chloé Zhao)

by Jack Martin | Jan 6, 2026

Certificate: 12A

Running Time: 126 mins

UK Distributor: Universal Pictures

UK Release Date: 9 January 2026

WHO’S IN HAMNET?

Jessie Buckley, Paul Mescal, Joe Alwyn, Emily Watson, David Wilmot, Jacobi Jupe, Olivia Lynes, Bodhi Rae Breathnach, Freya Hannan-Mills, Dainton Anderson, Elliot Baxter, Jack Shalloo, Sam Woolf, Hera Gibson, Noah Jupe

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Chloé Zhao (director, writer, editor), Maggie O’Farrell (writer), Nicolas Gonda, Pippa Harris, Liza Marshall, Sam Mendes and Steven Spielberg (producers), Max Richter (composer), Łukasz Żal (cinematographer), Affonso Gonçalves (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

William Shakespeare (Mescal) and his wife Agnes (Buckley) deal with an unspeakable loss…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON HAMNET?

“The rest is silence,” so Hamlet famously remarked as he drew his last breath (spoilers, I guess, for a centuries-old story). But as we discover in filmmaker Chloé Zhao’s incredible new feature Hamnet, the origin of William Shakespeare’s classic play and arguably one of the finest pieces of literature ever written is also marked in devastating loss, one that could only come from a deeply personal pit of despair where few could claim to crawl out of with their sanity or sense of optimism intact.

Zhao is one of those few, approaching her adaptation of Maggie O’Farrell’s novel (the author also co-writes the script with Zhao) from a place of endless suffering that anyone who has dealt with profound grief in their lives will entirely understand, and may even have found themselves in that place as well. Yet, she also imparts deep emotional wisdom that lends a surprisingly hopeful tone where, even in the lowest of moments, the most broken of hearts can be healed by the sheer beauty that humans are capable of, including creating art so impactful that it does more than just last for the ages.

As in the original novel, Hamnet tells a fictionalised version of how Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) met and quickly fell in love with Agnes Hathaway (Jessie Buckley), the free-spirited daughter of a woman deemed to be a “forest witch” by naysayers, namely the future Bard’s puritan family who do not approve of their son’s creative skills. They are even less so of his romance with Agnes, especially after a passionate tryst between them leaves her pregnant and subsequently wed to him, the father. But their love triumphs, and the two go on to expand their family with twins Judith (Olivia Lynes) and Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe), whom along with first-born daughter Susanna (Bodhi Rae Breathnach) are raised mostly by Agnes, while William is frequently travelling from their home in Stratford to London where he’s making a career out of writing plays.

But then, all too inevitably, tragedy strikes. Those who know Shakespeare’s life story will know full well what happens and who it happens to, but even still it hits you like an army tank full of bricks, and you may not be able to control your own emotions when it does. Zhao has such a lyrical way of showing real human drama unfold in such a spiritual yet grounded manner that you’re moved by the sheer cinematic poetry that she provides, in Hamnet’s case via some gorgeous cinematography by Łukasz Żal who creates imagery that could almost belong inside of paintings from that Renaissance era, and an atmospheric Max Richter score which provides its own brand of emotional resonance. Said score also includes one of the composer’s most famous tracks for the film’s most crucial scene, and without spoilers – though let’s just say it involves a certain Prince of Denmark – it all but guarantees there won’t be a dry eye in the house once that scene reaches a cathartic end.

The reason it lands as well as it does is because Zhao, quite intelligently, spends much of the movie building organically to the main inciting incident rather than flashing between scenes taking place before and after it. Both her and co-writer O’Farrell wisely take as much time as they need to show us the natural progression in Agnes and William’s relationship as well as their subsequent family life, keeping a stern focus on how they work as a unit to live a happy and comfortable life, and on pulling you into their world without feeling as though it’s becoming repetitive or even uneventful. It’s therefore easier to connect with these characters, including the young children who become perhaps the most essential piece of the film’s emotional puzzle, and thus feel much more strongly their joy, their melancholy, their frustration, their love, and so much more when things take a turn for the worst.

These actors, especially the two leads, convey all of these profound emotions to almost envious degrees. As the far more famous figure of the two, Mescal is fantastic, his Shakespeare filled with deep self-hatred that comes from experiencing little love among his family, including his father (David Wilmot) who takes every opportunity to verbally and physically abuse his adult son, and from hardly being there for his own children. Underneath lies a fiery passion that emerges whenever you see him putting his emotions into words that will soon become known the world over, to where he practically becomes a tyrant who yells at his actors for the slightest wobble in their rehearsal of his intricate dialogue. It’s all worth it, though, for Hamlet ends up being, well, Hamlet, and proves to be the cathartic release that’s desperately needed in such drastic times.

But as great as Mescal is, this is Buckley’s moment as she, even as an actor who has been nothing short of fantastic in virtually everything she’s yet been in, delivers her greatest performance to date. It is an emotional turn for the ages, as someone so overcome with uncertainty and despair amidst her own duties as a wife and mother that she can barely control herself when given the right amount of prodding, enough to see her go through various feelings and expressions that you don’t even see a lot of in most movies with such heavy subject matter. On top of that, Buckley channels so much humanity into Agnes that she never seems one-note, presenting well-chosen fragments of her core personality to share with the viewer who in turn can identify aspects of themselves in someone going through things that are unspeakable. The actor’s naturalist approach compliments the one that Zhao herself brings, with both performer and filmmaker working harmoniously to transform their character into someone who feels so real, like she could be any woman going through all of this, let alone the other half of the most famous playwright who ever lived.

Some will call Hamnet nothing but misery porn, or even cynical Oscar bait. Those people, it has to be said, cannot and will not understand the depths to which Zhao and her expansive team of collaborators have gone to convey a roundhouse of emotion that not only works but is genuinely tearjerking. This is a film that one has to experience in order to feel the true power of cinema, and how art such as the wonder that is Hamlet can help soothe our pain and open us up to emotions we all need in our lives, no matter how hurt we may be by them. Otherwise, the rest is silence.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Hamnet is a beautifully poetic meditation on love, grief and healing that sees filmmaker Chloé Zhao utilise her organic storytelling skills, along with phenomenal turns by Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal, to craft an extremely emotional film that resonates deeply with anyone who has ever experienced what it is to feel.