Hamnet is Rated PG-13 by Motion Picture Rating (MPA) for thematic content, some strong sexuality, and partial nudity.
Review of Hamnet
Ever wondered what it would feel like to peek behind the curtain of Shakespeare’s most heartbreaking tragedy to actually witness the love, the grief, and the raw human mess that might’ve sparked Hamlet itself? Hamnet, the latest film from Chloé Zhao, promises exactly that. On paper, it should be the kind of lush, emotional period drama you sink into like a warm blanket on a stormy night. But instead, it often feels like the cinematic equivalent of nodding off in a too-dim lecture hall.
Based on Maggie O’Farrell’s celebrated 2020 novel, the film follows young William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) and his fiercely independent wife, Agnes (Jessie Buckley), as they navigate marriage, motherhood, ambition, and tragedy in a small Elizabethan town. The pitch is irresistible: a love story shadowed by creative genius and unimaginable loss, told through an intimate, emotional lens. It should feel epic yet personal intense but warm.
Instead, what we get is a film that seems to mistake stillness for depth and dim lighting for meaning. Stratford is rendered as a bleak, almost desaturated void a place where joy goes to die. Zhao’s worlds usually breathe with atmosphere (Nomadland practically shimmered), but here the environment feels cold, stagey, and strangely hollow. Even the Shakespeare household looks more like a museum exhibit than a lived-in home. Kids play in quick flashes of sunlight, but otherwise the world is consistently overcast, as if the sky itself is exhausted.
Tonally, Hamnet sits somewhere between historical drama and slow-burn art film, but without the spark that makes either genre hit. There are moments when Zhao’s poetic instincts shine through the meet-cute, the intense birthing sequence, the atmospheric scenes at the Globe but those moments are scattered like crumbs in a long, wandering two-hour journey. You’ll laugh maybe once, gasp a few times, but mostly you’ll wait for something anything to stir the film awake.
Let’s give credit where it’s due: there is one utterly breathtaking scene. A fragment of Hamlet is performed at the Globe Theatre, and young Noah Jupe, playing Hamlet, absolutely steals the movie out from under its stars. As he reaches out from the stage like he’s trying to touch the earth itself the earth seems to reach back. It’s gorgeous. It’s moving. It feels alive.
But then… Max Richter’s “On the Nature of Daylight” swells in the background. Yes, that track the one from Arrival and a dozen other emotional showpieces. It’s a beautiful piece, no doubt, but its use here feels almost like cinematic shorthand for “please cry now.” Instead of earning its emotions, the film borrows them. And once you notice it, you start noticing the pattern: Hamnet keeps telling you how to feel instead of making you feel it.
The performances? Complicated.
Mescal is terrific at playing broken young men, but here Shakespeare feels oddly distant passionate yet paper-thin, mythic yet not quite human. Buckley fares better, commanding the screen as Agnes, a woman often whispered about as “witchy” but never given the space to truly lean into the mystical qualities that could’ve made the film more alive. And frustratingly, for a story about a marriage that shaped literature, Mescal and Buckley share surprisingly little screen time. Their chemistry flashes, then disappears, replaced by Shakespeare wandering London and Agnes grieving alone.
Zhao’s direction leans heavily on symbolism water rising under a door, earth pulling toward a performer but the script constantly tries to explain itself, as if terrified you won’t “get it.” Characters announce emotions the camera has already shown. Themes are spoken aloud instead of explored. What could have been a lush emotional tapestry becomes a carefully packaged, cautious narrative beautifully dressed, but oddly lifeless.
It’s prestige filmmaking with all the boxes checked: earth tones, sparse interiors, silent stares, tragedy, Important Themes, capital-A Acting. You feel the awards ambition radiating off the screen. But ambition isn’t the same as vitality, and Hamnet rarely lets itself breathe.
If you’re into slow, atmospheric period pieces like Bright Star or The Lost Daughter, you might find pockets of beauty here. But if you’re expecting the emotionally immersive sweep of Carol or the textured, lived-in world of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, temper those expectations. Hamnet has the ingredients, but not the fire.
Detailed Content Breakdown for Parents
Violence & Intensity: There is no graphic violence or action-packed fight scenes. The emotional intensity is strong: the core drama comes from illness (plague) and the child’s death, which is portrayed with raw sorrow and close-up emotional scenes. Some tension arises from family conflict and grief rather than physical threat.
Language: Dialogue is mostly period-appropriate and restrained. Profanity is mild and not a dominant feature. No major slurs or hateful language reported in parent-guide listings.
Sexual Content / Nudity: There is moderate sexuality: kissing, passionate moments between Agnes and William. Partial nudity is present. According to IMDb’s guide, there is some “exclusive female nudity.” These scenes are not overly graphic but emotionally charged, tied to relationship and intimacy rather than exploitative.
Drugs, Alcohol & Smoking: Very minimal. According to guides, any depictions are mild, likely in social or historical context. No glamorization of substance abuse; these elements support the historical setting.
Parental Concerns
The death of a child is central and depicted in an emotionally intense way — this could be very distressing for younger or sensitive viewers.
Intimate adult scenes with partial nudity may be uncomfortable for some families.
The mood is somber and slow; younger children may find it too “quiet” or “sad.”
Because the grief is central, the film doesn’t shy away from raw emotional moments, which may feel heavy rather than escapist.
Final verdict
Overall, Hamnet is a visually ambitious but emotionally muted drama that never fully taps into the passion, grief, or raw humanity of its subject matter. It feels like a film studied more than felt admired at arm’s length instead of embraced close to the heart.
