I have never felt more uncomfortable watching a film in my life, as I did watching "Hamnet." In fact, it was so gut-wrenching that I did not immediately enjoy it in the traditional sense, nor was I sure I'd even recommend it to anyone. But it stayed with me, as incredible films do, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it.
I thought about the film again when Jessie Buckley, the actor who plays William Shakespeare's wife, Agnes Hathaway, won the Critics' Choice Award for best actress on Jan. 4. In her lovely acceptance speech, Buckley looked at Paul Mescal, the actor who plays Shakespeare, and said with a smile, "I could drink you like water."
In the film, let's just say Buckley and Mescal's chemistry is so incredible that you can tell Buckley felt this way. And Mescal probably did too.
"Hamnet" is a refreshing yet powerful drink of water that portrays grief, love, and creativity.
Hamnet's portrayal of women is powerful. I initially chose to see the film, knowing it was an adaptation of Maggie O'Farrell's historical-fiction novel "Hamnet," which explores how Shakespeare may have been inspired by his son's death to write "Hamlet," but I mistakenly assumed the story focused primarily on Hathaway and Shakespeare's love story. (Unfortunately, I had not read the book.)
I was in for something perhaps even more profound than love and romance. Hamnet is a gut-wrenching look at grief and loss, and at how creative work can come from the worst experiences.
Still, this is not really revealed until the end. The joy of Hamnet lay in the journey to that conclusion.
The film mostly focuses on Hathaway, a welcome and unique point of view: Imagine a story about the inspiration for "Hamlet," written by the greatest storyteller of all time, and it focuses almost exclusively on his wife?
Women, and especially mothers, will see themselves in Buckley's stunning portrayal of Hathaway's journey from a beautiful, pure, unwed bride to a happily married wife and mother, to an exhausted, angry, grief-stricken mother.
Shakespeare is drawn to her femininity, carefree spirit, and love of nature. They soon wed and began a family. Life in England during the Elizabethan era was brutal yet simple, quiet, and quaint. Their three children – a boy and a girl set of twins, and a daughter – are the hub of their relatively happy home.
I've given birth four times and could feel the birthing scenes in the marrow of my bones. They are haunting and powerful.
Shakespeare, artist and breadwinner, must travel to London from Stratford to perform his plays, slowly building acclaim while Hathaway – mother, wife, lover, cook, teacher – bears the burden of the daily household work and the child-rearing. She is clearly the anchor and rudder. Women will resonate with this.
It was comforting to see the dailiness of life portrayed from her perspective, especially knowing that all women during that era shared, sacrificed, and endured a difficult life in patriarchal England.
Hamnet is a stunning portrayal of grief, love, and creativity. Buckley's difficulties reach a climax when Hamnet, 11, becomes ill and dies, likely of plague. In these scenes, Buckley's very soul – mother to mother – is revealed. They are brutal and hard to watch. As a highly empathetic mother, I could feel my body ache with discomfort. I wanted to look away. Losing a child is a parent's worst nightmare.
Shakespeare, who does not arrive until after Hamnet dies, is bereaved also. But of course, he must continue to work, and at first, Hathaway believes it provides him with an escape, while she remains there in the mundane, caretaking, raising the children, and maintaining their home. Bitterness, anger, and fights ensue. They are both grieving and pulling away from each other, rather than toward each other.
Finally, she hears about his latest play and travels to London with her brother – played by Joe Alwyn – and finds herself at the Globe Theatre, there to see the first production of Hamlet. With her boy coming to life and her husband writing and directing, she realizes he, too, has been grief-stricken and coping in the only way perhaps the great writer knew how – with his art.
We watch what feels like a private moment as their grief finally meets on the stage, her observing, him truly showing her – rather than telling her. It's the only time I can recall watching a climactic scene that makes the entire audience cry rather than laugh, applaud, or feel relief.
I left the theater thinking that while Hamnet is not the chick-flick I figured it'd be, it was perhaps far more profound. It taps into a parent's greatest fear and shows what a couple can endure and ultimately create in the end – a play we still watch today with delight.
You will not want to drink Hamnet like water at first, but Buckley is correct – you should. Its portrayal of love, grief, and especially motherhood is a moving experience and a particular balm for the soul.
