Hamnet
To be perfectly honest, I was not particularly taken with the idea of seeing Hamnet. As someone with slightly more than a passing familiarity with Shakespeare's labors and life (or as much as we can know of it), I was skeptical that the movie would adequately depict the moral ambiguities of this ambitious, often-absent, husband and father. I feared that this was going to be a sanitized version of Shakespeare lore, an overly romanticized love story that would eventually turn into a tear-jerking family drama. It is none of those things and, at the same time, a mixture of all of them. Perhaps, most importantly, the film's central character isn't Shakespeare at all. Nor is the title character, his only son. The heart and soul of Hamnet is Jessie Buckley's Agnes, a formidable, passionate woman so full of life and character that she's in danger of being consumed by the fire burning inside her.
We first meet Agnes curled up in a fetal position at the mouth of a cave, deep within a forest outside of Stratford. In this film, Agnes is presented as a rustic enchantress communing with the elements in a sort of pagan ritual that involves observation of "the old ways", in which the casting of spells and divining the future are natural functions of existence. Her mother, after all, was a "forest witch" who taught her young daughter the practices of her ancestors before dying in childbirth. The tone of this opening scene is dark, foreboding, much like the beginning of an A24 film: it hints at things supernatural and enigmatic. The fact that Agnes is a falconer only flavors her charisma with peppery spunk. It's easy to see why Shakespeare, who feels like a nonachiever (thanks to his brutal father) would fall for this bewitching creature.
And yet, after a rapturous start, Shakespeare seems subtly ambivalent about the relationship when he receives news of his pending fatherhood and obligatory wedding. Was this a young man temporarily overwhelmed by a force of nature or did he genuinely love Agnes? Impossible to know the depth of their affections, given what little knowledge we have of their private lives. The film suggests that they did love one another, just maybe not in the conventional way that is accepted today. When the big day arrives, Agnes slips away from her husband and his family, traveling deep into the woods--where we first met her--and gives birth to her child, a daughter named Susanna. Having intuited that Shakespeare would accomplish great things in London, and intervening on his behalf, Agnes sends him on his way with her blessings.
Following one of Shakespeare's visits home, Agnes again finds herself pregnant, birthing twins Judith and Hamnet in a chaotic delivery of fearful violence. To be clear, she has misgivings about being left with three young children to raise, but she also has faith that her husband will become a great success and eventually return home to his family. Of course, things aren't quite that simple. At this point, Shakespeare simply disappears from the film for swaths of time, although he returns sporadically to entertain his children with stories and swordfights: he seems to take a genuine delight in fatherhood, if not matrimony.
We rarely see what Shakespeare got up to in London when he wasn't putting quill to paper. There is, of course, speculation that he took bedmates of both sexes (or maybe just men), that he immersed himself in a worldly life unknown to those simpler folks in his hometown, that he purloined and refined the works of others, and that--possibly--he wasn't even the Shakespeare we think we know as the dramatist who achieved literary divinity. The film offers us glimpses of Shakespeare wandering the London streets, tutoring his actors at the Globe Theater, and contemplating suicide as he perches precariously on the edge of a Thames dock following the death of his son, and Agnes's abrupt dismissal (a long time coming, actually). Even so, his life in the city, where his talent burgeoned and became legend, goes largely unexamined. But, again, Shakespeare is not the primary focus of Hamnet.
Most of the film takes place in the plush, if somewhat sinister, British countryside, where Agnes raises her children and watches for omens in order to protect her family from potential calamities. A young Agnes once had a vision in which she was revealed to be lying on her deathbed, attended by her two children. Except, of course, Agnes has three children. When her twins were born, the younger, Judith, died momentarily, until Agnes held her baby in her arms and seemingly willed the infant back to life. Judith's twin, Hamnet, ever the picture of health and vitality, remains close and vigilant over his frailer, younger sister, as do his mother and Susanna. Despite everything, Agnes fears that death will one day come for Judith when Agnes is least prepared to ward it off.
In due time, tragedy does strike, in the form of the Black Death. Only it is not Judith who is taken, but Hamnet. Critically ill and drawing her last breaths, Judith is clearly dying despite the frantic ministrations and incantations of her mother. Falling into a deep sleep, Agnes is unaware that Hamnet has climbed into bed with his twin, holding her close and praying for death to take him instead of his sister. By the time she awakens, Agnes hurries upstairs to find a substantially healthier Judith and Hamnet writhing in agony. Having already been alerted to Judith's impending demise, Shakespeare hurtles through the countryside by horseback, only to arrive at a house already sodden with mourning. To his great relief he discovers Judith standing and alert. It is only after he picks her up and holds her closely, that he notices Hamnet lying enshrouded on a table. Shakespeare has arrived too late. After briefly breaking down over the loss of his son, Shakespeare rather callously informs Agnes that he must get back to London for the grand opening of his theater. And this is when Agnes reveals that she has had enough. Jessie Buckley's rage and anguish explode in a fearful maelstrom that both shames and shocks Shakespeare and sends him scurrying from the house.
Soon thereafter, Agnes's wicked stepmother drops by to taunt Agnes by presenting her with a flyer for Shakespeare's production of Hamlet. Her fury aroused, Agnes corrals Bartholomew and the two of them make their way to the Globe Theatre in London, where the play is about to begin. "Keep my son's name out of your mouths," rages Agnes as two actors perform a scene. A startled Shakespeare peeks from behind the curtain to see Agnes and Bartholomew standing directly in front of the stage. At any moment it appears she might actually attack the actors. Bartholomew (barely) manages to restrain her from physically lashing out but Shakespeare appears stunned and remorseful. The play progresses as the young man portraying Hamlet enters, and suddenly Agnes is transfixed. She can't take her eyes off him. This beautiful youth reminds her of her own lost son, of who he might have become had he lived beyond his childhood. And then Shakespeare, himself, shows up onstage as the ghost of Hamlet's father. His eyes meet those of Agnes and there is a moment of silent acknowledgement. It's a touching, emotional scene that leads to a devastating ending in which Agnes appears to have accepted her losses and released the demons that have long tormented her.
Do she and Shakespeare manage to bridge the gulf that separated them even before the death of their only son? We'll never know, but the movie's final scene suggests that they have, at least, made peace with one another.
Jessie Buckley is more than deserving of all the accolades she has received since the film's release. She's a fierce, impassioned presence who dominates every scene she is in. Her Agnes overshadows Paul Mescal's Shakespeare at every turn--which is not to slam Mescal, who does a fine job on his own. It's just that Buckley comes in like a hurricane, sweeping everyone else aside as her considerable storm of emotions unfurl. By the time the movie ended, there was barely a dry eye in the house. (FYI: even mine got a tiny bit moist.)
I read a review by one critic who claimed that Hamnet was too calculated for their tastes, but obviously that critic never sat through one of Old Hollywood's tearjerkers, which are so blatantly manipulative that just thinking about them curdles the testes. In my opinion, the writing, directing and acting in Hamnet never hits a false note. Chloe Zhao, who made both the Academy Award-winning Nomadland (2020) and the superhero epic Eternals (2021), once again demonstrates her skill at navigating divergent film genres. Aside from the director and stars, about whom I have gushed enough, kudos also go to young Jacobi Jupe, portraying the heartbreaking Hamnet; his real-life brother, Noah Jupe, as the actor playing Hamlet: and the rest of the cast (which includes Emily Watson, Joe Alwyn, David Wilmot, Olivia Lynes and Bodhi Rae Breathnach). The cinematography by Lukasz Zal perfectly captures the rural setting's sense of mystic spirituality and spartan, rundown "affluence". Composer Max Richter has been accused of "borrowing" heavily from the musical scores of other films, but if that's true, he does it so well done that it seems churlish to complain.
Hamnet has been nominated for eight Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress and (ahem) best original musical score.
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