History attempts to give explanations as to why past events happened.  Please note that it is not simply a telling of what happened.  Why and what are two different forms of inquiry, and only one is truly useful.  For example, since we are currently in the midst of the United States’ 250^th anniversary, what possible good does it do you to know that the Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776.  I saw a clip on the news recently in which a set of young beach goers were interviewed who, despite being American by all appearances, had little clue as to what the semi-quincentennial signified.  That is a fancy way of saying 250, by the way, but telling that to these late teen and twenty-somethings was no help to many of them.  If they have ever encountered this historical tidbit, it was to fill in the blank on a grade school exam before deleting it from their brains in order to refill it with whatever nonsense comes their way.  Asking them why we penned that founding document seems akin to requesting that they produce bars of gold out of thin air.  Despite all this, today’s film, Hamnet (2025), tries to give a possible reason for what inspired William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) to write the play that so closely matches the title, Hamlet (1623).  It is not actual history, but this historian is satisfied enough with it overall, even if, as a Catholic, I am less thrilled with other aspects.

One aspect of Agnes Hathaway’s (Jessie Buckley) in Hamnet that I was not thrilled with as a Catholic is the suggestion that she is some kind of witch that prefers the woods to civilization.  We are introduced to her in such a surrounding with a pet hawk before she heads back into the small town of Stratford-upon-Avon where she lives.  Observing her is the newest Latin tutor, William, who leaves his charges upon seeing her to declare his instant love for her, Elizabethan England style.  Though there is some mutual attraction, she rebuffs his advances and they go their separate ways.  It is just as good for William’s family, particularly his glove maker father, John Shakespeare (David Wilmot), is not keen on Agnes and her bizarre reputation.  As for Agnes, her stepmother, Joan Hathaway (Justine Mitchell), has nothing good to say about her stepdaughter’s chances with a family one rung up on the social ladder like the Shakespeares.  Despite these challenges, William continues to try to see Agnes whenever he gets the chance.  Eventually, she breaks down and they become handfasted (basically, betrothed) to one another, which is made all the more urgent when she becomes pregnant by him.  As a result of being with child, she is kicked out of her house, though her brother, Bartholomew Hathaway (Joe Alwyn), goes with her.  It is his consent to them being married that sways everyone and the ceremony proceeds.  Being husband and wife for William and Agness goes well initially, even if she gives birth to their first daughter, Susanna Shakespeare (Bodhi Rae Breathnach), in the forest.  It is William who begins to feel restless, partly due to John’s constant nettling that his budding playwright son will amount to nothing.  To help William, Agnes suggests that her husband relocate to London to continue writing, visiting the family whenever he is able.  Apparently, he comes back often enough in order for them to conceive again, but this birth is not to go like the rest.  The first change for her is that she is prevented from being amongst the trees where she had previously endured her labor pangs.  After another daughter, Judith Shakespeare (Olivia Lynes), enters the world, the contractions begin again and out comes Hamnet Shakespeare (Jacobi Jupe).  In Agnes’ post-partem confusion, the boy is thought to be stillborn, but she is able to revive him.  Thus, they settle in as a happy family of five, with William being around whenever it is not play season.  Sadly, sixteenth century England has more than four seasons, and one of them is the plague.  The disease comes to Stratford-upon-Avon and the person who is afflicted is Judith.  Because of the closeness of the twins, as she lays suffering, Hamnet sets down beside her and asks that he be taken instead of her.  The next morning, Judith comes down to warn Agnes that something is wrong with her son.  What proceeds is a drawn-out, excruciating death for the boy.  William gets there shortly after Hamnet takes his last breath, and is as grieved as any loving father would be.  Yet, William also knows that he needs to return to work, and it comes far too soon to Agnes’ taste.  In subsequent visits from him, her anger with him remains and they begin to grow distant.  It leads to him being told that he need not concern himself with her or his family anymore, and we see the emotional toll this takes on him as he begins to pen the tragedy that will come to be known as Hamlet.  In Stratford-upon-Avon, Agnes is told that William is working on such a play, although she thought it was supposed to be a comedy.  Because it bears the name of her son (the film posits that “Hamnet” and “Hamlet” were interchangeable at this time), she heads for the English capital with Bartholomew.  She thus has a spot directly in front of the stage to see the legendary piece unfold, one which initially disturbs her.  However, she eventually understands that in William playing the ghost of King Hamlet, it is his way of making peace with everything that has happened.  She has a similar experience, especially when the prince (Noah Jupe) dies and she looks on as an image of Hamnet walks into the forested backdrop.

Such a conclusion to Hamnet is fittingly poignant.  At the same time, as I discussed in the introduction, I did not care for how it portrays Agnes.  It is not just the suggested witchcraft.  At one point, she directly opposes anything having to do with Christianity, although maybe she can be given some grace given that it is said under the duress of labor.  To attend church or not, such a question can be summed up in Prince Hamlet’s famous speech “To be or not to be.”  It has a great deal of significance from a Catholic perspective, so much so that it bears a large quotation, “To be, or not to be, that is the question:/ Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer/ The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,/ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles/ And by opposing end them.”  It goes on for a number of lines from there, but the idea here is whether life is worth all the trouble.  The Church would give a resounding “YES” to that question.  In such moments, I often remind you of the words of Pope Benedict XVI, who told the Faithful that we are not made for comfort.  In other words, there will never be an end to the “sea of troubles.”  There will always be something with which we will need to contend.  The second half of Pope Benedict XVI’s line is that we were made for greatness.  This seems to be how God made William.  He takes an ocean of trouble and makes it into art.  He does so because God also gave him a gift, and he uses it as the Creator would intend any of us to use such gifts.  Further, this is not a situation in which an artist is using his craft in order to avoid dealing with pain.  Instead, he is transcending his pain, and it is beautiful.  Still, if you cannot produce a play that will be considered among the best ever made, there is always prayer, which works even better.

Indeed, Hamnet is better than I thought it would be.  It had me wondering why I did not see it in the theater, but apparently it was because I had been traveling for Thanksgiving when it came out.  As I have said, there are some parts I could do without, but otherwise it is a beautiful film.