The greatest moment in Chloé Zhao’s “Hamnet” is the performance of “Hamlet” — a classically Shakespearean play within a play.
William Shakespeare (a soulful Paul Mescal) appears in his own play on the Globe’s stage as the white specter of Hamlet’s deceased father, soothing any skepticism with a piercing plea to his son: “Remember me.”
Of course, Will has reversed the roles. The plot of Ms. Zhao’s epic — and of Maggie O’Farrell’s novel of the same name — relies on the death of a child, not a parent. And supposedly the beating heart of this story is Shakespeare’s wife, Agnes, with whom the movie ends and begins.
“Hamnet” — and Agnes herself — is forceful, beautiful and epic. But the film, which debuted Nov. 26, wields anguish as a blunt instrument. Pain is depicted only in the broadest, most impersonal of strokes.
That I had to introduce Agnes (Jessie Buckley) by way of marital status should suggest some of the tensions with which the film attempts to grapple. Will regularly leaves Agnes for London, where the viewer rarely follows. He misses not only the births of all three children but the death of his only son, Hamnet.
“What’s in a name?” Not much, aside from the movie’s entire conceit. We begin with a reminder that, in the 17th century, the terms “Hamnet” and “Hamlet” were used interchangeably, as if the emotional resonance of the Danish Play could be transferred to this film simply by virtue of almost identical epithets.
And there is resonance to be found here. The brief rendition of “Hamlet” itself is nothing short of genius. Additionally, the performances delivered by Will and Agnes’s children might be among the most evocative in the film — certainly an achievement for any performers competing with Mr. Mescal and Ms. Buckley’s force.
Any power that the inevitable tragedies wield is, in the end, a result of the film’s skill for joy. The unit that Will, Agnes and their children make up is a soaring testament to elation and penetrating intimacy.
Once illness strikes, however, “Hamnet” reverts to heavy-handed woe, one which the viewer catches early glimpses of in Agnes’ two — yes, that’s right, two — labor scenes. There are all the classic consequences of death: screaming, crying, marital conflict.
However, we are not in need of volcanic eruptions of grief to understand the gravity of “Hamnet’s” subject matter. Melodrama can only serve as a disservice to the complexity of mourning, and the characters themselves.
The movie is not innovative, subtle or shrewd, but, as Hamlet says in the film’s final scene — also the final scene of the original play — “The rest is silence.”
And the following silence, at least in my theater, was punctuated by sniffles, clearing throats and a scattering of applause. Most eyes were filled with tears — including my own.
