Before *Hamlet*, there existed Hamnet, the young offspring of William Shakespeare whose untimely demise fueled the playwright’s enduring tragedy of a doomed Danish monarch. *Hamnet* explores this authentic narrative through a mystical and matriarchal perspective in Maggie O’Farrell’s renowned novel, adapted by Academy Award-winning director Chloé Zhao, celebrated for *Nomadland*, and featuring Academy-nominated actors Paul Mescal (*Aftersun*) and Jessie Buckley (*The Lost Daughter*).

This period drama appears set to be a contender this award season. However, Oscar buzz frequently molds expectations of dramas—especially loosely biographical ones—into a single prototype: star-laden spectacles with tears, an evocative score, and picturesque imagery of suffering, ideal for an award ceremony highlight reel. Anticipating such from Zhao, Mescal, and Buckley would overlook what originally garnered them acclaim.

This trio has individually garnered accolades for their nuanced depictions of joy and sorrow, from Buckley’s breakout performance as an aspiring singer in *Wild Rose* to Zhao’s bittersweet character exploration *Nomadland* to Mescal’s heart-rending portrayal as a lost love in *All of Us Strangers*. In *Hamnet*, their collective talents forge a drama that surpasses a sentimental tearjerker poised for Oscar recognition; it is a grounded and poetic raw narrative of love and loss.

*Hamnet* focuses on the tale of Shakespeare’s enigmatic wife, Agnes. Instead of a direct reenactment of the real-life union of William Shakespeare and Anne “Agnes” Hathaway, *Hamnet* adheres to O’Farrell’s vision, envisioning Agnes (Buckley) as a woman deeply bonded to nature and inclined to visions of the future.

In the film, Agnes rebuffs rumors that she is a witch. Yet her earthy charm—including the wearing of striking red robes and keeping a pet hawk—draws the fervent and scholarly son of a local glove-maker. Portraying Will and Agnes from their youth into maturity, Mescal and Buckley effortlessly embody the impetuous passion of young love. Their arms entwine with a fervent intensity as they seize intimate moments from the banal routines demanded by their families.

Unlike in his yet-to-be-penned comedies, marriage does not equate to a happily-ever-after for the couple—as tragedy looms. Nevertheless, marriage signifies newfound freedom as they reinvent their lives together. For the Shakespeares, that signifies Will departing to London to craft plays and express his soul through tales of star-crossed lovers and foretelling witches. For Agnes, it entails raising their three children: Susanna and the twins Judith and Hamnet. However, a vision of her own deathbed convinces Agnes that one of her offspring will perish before her.

Jacobi Jupe proves to be a unique talent as Hamnet. Whether you are acquainted with the history of Shakespeare’s domestic life, are a fan of O’Farrell’s novel, or can simply sense the atmosphere, it becomes evident early on that Agnes is mistaken in her belief that the child destined to die is her youngest, Judith. This introduces tension into every interaction she has with her intelligent, adventurous, and caring son, Hamnet, as we are aware their time together is brief, and she remains oblivious.

This premise would be poised for anguish regardless. Yet young Jacobi Jupe excels as the 11-year-old Hamnet. Under Zhao’s guidance, he navigates the common traps associated with child actors in family dramas. He is neither overly precocious nor ethereal. He frolics with his sisters, laughing in play, exchanging clothes for a child-like prank in which the twins swap identities. Before his mother, he dreams of taking the stage, where he gets to engage in sword fights to the cheers of a crowd. Jupe plays with a blend of clumsiness and sincerity that conveys pure authenticity. Thus, when the plague strikes the Shakespeare residence, particularly afflicting Judith, it’s understandable that this sweet boy would curl up in his twin sister’s cot to console her.

When Hamnet speaks of a foreboding “him” observing the twins, it hints at his shared gift of premonition with his mother. Yet even here, Jupe sidesteps clichés, avoiding that of the haunted child, wide-eyed in fear. Instead, he is a boy who is scared but used to embodying the hero, persisting to assist his sister with one last identity swap. And because he feels so genuine, the anguish of his end will leave you breathless.

Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal are captivating in *Hamnet*. In the early courtship scenes, they crackle with chemistry, each utilizing their well-established on-screen intensity. As the Shakespeare marriage becomes complicated by distance and mourning, they erupt, destined to collide. However, remarkable performances unfold in moments apart. Buckley, undeniably the leading figure in the film, channels the focus evident in *Wild Rose*.