Hamnet (2025)

I’m writing this fresh out of the theater, tears still wet. This is a raw reaction. The whole theater was sniffling - we basically cried together for two hours straight.

Hamnet is a deeply emotional film about grief, art, and how we process feelings we can’t articulate. It’s about the distance between people who love each other. It’s about what gets lost when we can’t find the words, and what gets created when we finally do.

I saw myself in this movie through multiple characters in ways I haven’t experienced since Grave of the Fireflies.

I saw myself in William - a man that the people closest to him struggle to reach him. I’m currently dating a green witch, who is deeply intuitive and spiritual, and yet she has a hard time understanding me. Watching William navigate that same gap hit somewhere tender inside of me.

I saw myself in Hamnet - willing to trade places with his sister, and carrying weight he shouldn’t have to carry as a young man. And I felt seen in the film’s unflinching portrayal of what it’s like when the people around you can’t fully comprehend your feelings, even when they’re trying, even when they love you.

This is a movie about how grief transforms into art, and what that transformation costs. It asks whether making something beautiful out of pain redeems the pain or just reshapes it.

At the time of this review, it’s number two in my Oscar power rankings. I wish my girlfriend had been there to watch this with me. I’m also not sure I’ll be able to revisit it anytime soon.

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