Can a film about Shakespeare’s wife and the tragic loss of their son truly do justice to their story? Hamnet has swept the Golden Globes, taking home awards for Best Drama and Best Actress, but the question remains: does it live up to the hype? Let’s dive into this emotionally charged adaptation and uncover what makes it both compelling and controversial.
But here’s where it gets controversial: Hamnet isn’t just a retelling of Shakespeare’s life—it’s a bold reimagining of Anne Hathaway, a figure often reduced to a footnote in history. Long before this film, Germaine Greer challenged the narrative of Hathaway as an illiterate opportunist in her 2007 biography, Shakespeare’s Wife. Greer’s feminist perspective, backed by extensive research into Elizabethan customs, painted Hathaway as an educated, socially eligible woman—a stark contrast to the dismissive portrayals by earlier scholars. Yet, Greer’s interpretation itself was speculative, sparking debates about how much we can truly know about Hathaway’s life.
Fast forward to 2020, and Irish novelist Maggie O’Farrell took an even more audacious leap with Hamnet, her novel that explores Shakespeare’s most personal tragedy: the death of his 11-year-old son from the plague. The film adaptation, co-written by O’Farrell and director Chloé Zhao (Nomadland), maintains the novel’s lyrical tone and intimate connection to nature. The setting, a blend of grand Stratford homes and untamed woodlands, hints at the unpredictability of life—a theme that becomes all too real when the plague arrives.
And this is the part most people miss: the film’s portrayal of Anne (renamed Agnes) as a healer deeply attuned to the natural world. Played by the Golden Globe-winning Jessie Buckley, Agnes is a complex figure—a rebellious stepdaughter, a fiercely protective mother, and a woman whose intelligence shines through her medicinal remedies. Her relationship with her brother, Bartholomew (Joe Alwyn), highlights her intuitive nature, while her marriage to Will (Paul Mescal) reveals the sacrifices she makes for his ambitions. Mescal’s Shakespeare is no fiery artist stereotype; instead, he’s a man driven by passion and frustration, a portrayal that feels refreshingly human.
But the heart of the film lies in its exploration of grief. The second half delves into the many forms sorrow takes and the strain it places on relationships, particularly when one person’s pain cannot be fully understood by another. It’s a desperately sad story, yet it concludes with a note of reconciliation—not just between Agnes and Will, but also in its tribute to the healing power of art. Is this reinvention of Anne Hathaway and Shakespeare’s story a triumph, or does it take too many liberties with history?
While the film’s plot is more straightforward than the book’s, its emotional impact is undeniable. The ending, in particular, leaves a lasting impression, inviting viewers to reflect on the enduring power of love and creativity in the face of loss. But here’s the question: does Hamnet honor its subjects, or does it romanticize their lives beyond recognition? Let us know your thoughts in the comments—this is one debate that’s sure to spark differing opinions.
