Hamnet

There's this 16th century guy named Will. He lives on a farm in England. Will meets a girl, knocks her up, they marry, and build a happy family. Will travels for work. Then the unthinkable happens.

The first half plays like Malick with steadier pacing, light and texture, before shifting into something heavier. That's when Will becomes Shakespeare.

Artists across eras reflect the best and worst of humanity. The rest of us may lack their tools of expression, but we're all shaped by tragedy.

You don't need to love Shakespeare or theatre to feel the power of art, how it helps creators wrestle with pain and how it helps audiences recognize one another.

It's that connection that makes us human.

Days ago at a film screening hosted by the Asia Society, I met a veteran Hollywood producer and Oscar voter. She excitedly brought up Chloé Zhao's new film Hamnet, asserting with confidence that it will walk away with two to four major Awards next year.

Almost at the same time, I saw my friend, educator Dr. Baiyan Yang, praising the film on social media: "This not only proves Zhao's artistic mastery and humanistic depth, but also stands among the most emotionally powerful works of our time."

With such "preloaded" expectations, I began to look into the details. Indeed, the film is scheduled for a limited U. S. release on November 27, while its Telluride Film Festival premiere has already set critics abuzz: a perfect 100% on Rotten Tomatoes, a stellar 95 on Metacritic. The Playlist even declared it "another masterpiece from Zhao."

Adapted from Maggie O'Farrell's acclaimed novel, Hamnet diverges from works that traditionally focus on Shakespeare's career, choosing instead to center on his wife Agnes (Jessie Buckley) and their young son who died prematurely. It portrays a family torn apart by plague yet striving for renewal. Zhao's documentary-like aesthetic and use of natural light make 16th-century rural England almost tangible-you can feel the dew on Agnes's fingertips and hear the sound of her breaking heart. The climax is especially moving: when she watches "Hamlet" performed at The Globe, the name of her lost child overlaps with the title character, and art fuses with life in a moment of profound poignancy.

Reports from the premiere noted many audience members were in tears. Critics called it "the most devastating film in years," emphasizing that it not only depicts a family tragedy but also reframes the emotional roots of Shakespeare's Hamlet. Performances by Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal have been hailed as career-defining turns.

What intrigued me further was Zhao's own comment earlier this year. Reflecting on her Marvel experience with Eternals, she said it gave her insights into world-building, but Hamnet brought her back to the intimacy of contained storytelling: "When resources are limited, everything becomes more meaningful." That line has stayed with me.

From the heights of Nomadland, through the divisive reception of Eternals, and now to the triumphant acclaim of Hamnet, Zhao's work has always carried her signature: an empathy for outsiders, a reverence for nature and humanity, and a gift for transforming individual grief into universal emotion. In an era saturated with superhero blockbusters, a film with this kind of literary depth and emotional resonance feels like a breath of fresh air.

Personally, I am deeply looking forward to its official release in November. Hamnet is poised not only to be a heavyweight contender in awards season, but also to show us a director returning to her roots with greater maturity after navigating both commercial spectacle and intimate art. Perhaps this is what cinema ultimately exists for-to find rebirth in the fragile balance between love and loss.

What a beautiful movie from Chloé Zhao. The film follows the life of a regular family in a past era, focusing on their relationships and how they deal with life's challenges. It's about love, loss, and family bonds, but it doesn't hit you over the head with drama. Things unfold slowly and quietly - small gestures, looks, and silences speak just as much as words. The English countryside almost feels alive, quietly watching over the family, and the story shows that human emotions - grief, care, hope - are timeless, even across centuries.

It's admirable that Chloé Zhao had the courage and insight to write and direct this almost Shakespearian story. William and Agnes bring twin children into the world, and the loss of one puts them in an incredibly tragic situation. Yet they have to find a way to keep going - as much as humans can - despite the pain.

Hamnet captures both darkness and grace in one of the most unapologetically raw and profoundly moving films I've seen this year. It features career-best performances from both Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal, and it stands as Chloé Zhao's most accomplished work.

For me, it was a deeply emotional experience. The film doesn't scream its drama; it hints at it through tiny gestures, lingering looks, quiet moments, and family intimacy. You feel the characters' sorrow, hope, and concern - almost like you're living those moments alongside them. It's not an explosive movie; it moves you subtly and persistently, making you empathize with their loss and their struggle to carry on.

Hamlet is a very old story coming from the Norse legends of Omlodhi. The original story is almost exactly the same with a few changes the Shakespeare made for his time. It was not based on this. It is based on that story. If you don't believe me, search it. Or better yet read Hamlet's Mill. It outlines the history perfectly. Not this garbage of a movie.

Hamnet is an exceptional movie - its only weakness being that it tries unnecessarily too hard to extract a tear at every turn, drawing on the full armamentarium of tools available to a crafty storyteller like Chloe Zhao. Ultimately, the movie takes you on a journey through life of a typically family. William meets Agnes, Agnes gets pregnant, they get married, they face difficulties in their lives and work, they have twins, they are protective of their children and premonitory about losing a child too. William has to spend significant time in London for work. They lose a child to pestilence. They process grief in their own way.

This movie has all the necessary ingredients to cater to a wide range of audiences and their respective beliefs about reconciling that kind of grief: ghosts, afterlife, mystical forest, abyss, dark holes, underworld (yes, Orpheus' story is woven into the story too), sky burial, perhaps a dream, too. Stillbirth that was not, connection between twins, mysterious connection with nature - a buffet of transcendent beliefs. There are twists too, not unlike those in The Six Sense or The Others. All leading to a catharsis that may have been more profound, if one were not already in tears throughout the whole movie. But, it was therapeutic and liberating, nevertheless. Jessie Buckley, Paul Mescal and Jacobi Jupe contribute masterfully to every single emotional exploitation in this well-crafted deconstruction of grief and Hamlet.

My wife and I watched the premiere at TIFF, with the Roy Thomson Hall always being an unmatchable, immersive venue to watch a movie, particularly one with a score like Hamnet's, supporting and amplifying the tension-building moments with Max Richter's intense music. As I have already pointed to Chloe Zhao not missing a single opportunity to draw on whatever values the audience may already have, here is the use of "On the Nature of Daylight" track (amplifying so intensely the preordained loss of a child to rare disease in Arrival). On the one hand, it was incredible to watch Chloe Zhao and Emily Watson's reactions to the movie, as it unfolded, just across the aisle from us. On the other hand, it was impossible to contain the emotional rollercoaster this movie has trapped us in - less than a year ago (on a trip through Denmark, of all places, where Hamlet is set), our three year old son caught severe pneumonia, deteriorated in the middle of the night from what appeared like a bad cold into a near comatose condition. Despite getting him to one of the best pediatric hospitals in the world, over the next week, the infection got worse and we endured for days holding and watching his near-lifeless septicemic body, not knowing whether he will wake up the same and whether he will wake up at all. This was a traumatic experience in a foreign country that left its scars. Watching Hamnet made us relive all of this in a span of two hours - that immeasurable, unimaginable, irreversible loss of a child full of unadulterated joy, dreams, aspirations, potential. I last felt this way when I watched Manchster by the Sea, but that was before I would come to experience my own child. Hamnet is portrayed in the movie to die from what appears as pneumonic plague - rare, but most rapidly progressing - in agony - it is devastating. Yet, we had a happy ending of sorts - our child survived. But it was crashing to watch the family on screen process this grief in their own way. It was beautiful to see them endure. We are drawn to tragedy in a paradoxical manner. Chloe Zhao knows and fully embraces that throughout her work, but also by preparing the audience for the experience (yes - there was a brief breathing exercise and meditation) and providing some closure in her commentary after - we live, we experience loss and grief, most of us find what to continue living for (to be or not to be), and we die, inevitably. I can only speculate, but she appears to have gone for absolute certainty to reach into the very soul of every person in the audience and touch them and unite them with strangers around the room with her masterful storytelling. There is much, much more to be said about this movie than I have. It is a must see and will surely collect many awards for its creators, but, most importantly, will solidify its place in art and history as a masterpiece.