“Hamnet” is one of the best films of the year, and it almost lost me in the last five minutes. Not because Chloe Zhao drops the emotional thread, not because the film stops working, and definitely not because the performances falter. No. It was because of one musical cue. One very familiar, very recognizable cue that yanked me straight out of my emotional spiral. And the reason I want to start with that single choice is because everything leading up to it is so overwhelmingly beautiful that its sudden familiarity genuinely shocked me.
Based on Maggie O’Farrell’s novel, “Hamnet” explores the origins of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” by weaving together the life of Will, played by Paul Mescal, with the story of his wife Agnes, played by Jessie Buckley. I went in blind and highly recommend that approach. The film is emotionally direct, grounded, and startlingly humane, offering some of the clearest, most affecting deliveries of Shakespearean language I have ever seen. Mescal and Noah Jupe deliver the kind of raw clarity that makes the dialogue feel completely contemporary without ever betraying the world of the film.
At the center of all of this is Agnes. Jessie Buckley gives one of her greatest performances. Agnes is a healer whose ancestry ties her to generations of women who read the world through touch and intuition. Through her, the film becomes a story about connection and the invisible threads that bind people across time.
Zhao builds the world with exquisite detail. The production design by Fiona Crombie and costumes by Malgosia Turzanska create a tactile, lived-in environment with attention to detail. Hands are always dirty. Clothes are frayed. Teeth are stained. Nothing feels polished. These characters are made from soil and smoke and sweat. It is a world both harsh and full of wonder.
There are scenes that hit with such intensity that the air leaves the room. One moment has Will, drunk and unraveling, pounding a desk in candlelight as Agnes tries to soothe him. The baby wakes. Will breaks. And it all happens in a single sustained shot. The film constantly balances love, fear, anger, desire, and grief in a way that feels deeply human.
The emotional devastation that arrives later in the story is handled with such precision that it becomes physically difficult to watch. Buckley delivers one of the most stomach-churning portrayals of grief I have ever seen on screen. Mescal matches her with a performance that feels career defining.
Zhao uses time, silence, and space in ways few filmmakers do. A late scene in the children’s bedroom unfolds in one wide shot. Time passes without cutting. You notice the shift slowly, and once you do, it is heartbreaking. It is filmmaking that respects the audience’s intelligence and emotional capacity.
Which brings me back to the ending. Music in film becomes personal history. It attaches itself to memories and moments, and scenes we have already lived with on screen. I do not hear “Roxanne” the same way after “Moulin Rouge”. Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good” now signals a television season finale, and Max Richter’s “On the Nature of Daylight” has essentially become a cinematic watermark. It is haunting, it is gorgeous, and for better or worse, it already belongs in many films, including Denis Villeneuve’s “Arrival”.
So imagine sitting in a packed Dolby Atmos theater, absolutely undone by Zhao’s filmmaking, and suddenly the most recognizable Max Richter cue floods the soundtrack at the emotional peak. My soul left my body. I literally whispered, “Why is this here?” because the rest of the film is so original, so specific, and so carefully crafted that the needle drop felt out of place.
Still, let me be clear. “Hamnet is extraordinary.” It digs into the marrow of what it means to love and lose. It is ambitious, intimate, and emotionally shattering. It deserves to be seen in a cinema, where every breath and every creak of wood can be felt.
The final choice may divide people, but it does not diminish the power of the film or the artistry behind it. “Hamnet” is a triumph of humanistic filmmaking and one of the best films of the year.
Watch the full review now on The Wandering Screen with Matt Koss on YouTube.
Letter grade: A