Hamnet

fuck guys... this was gorgeous and devastating... Jessie Buckley, your nomination awaits, the statuette even, if I were in charge. Some may see her performance as a bit over the top but god!! I could not disagree more. A potent performance on grief, sentimentality, and maternal devotion. The supporting performance from Mescal is nothing to scoff at. Though it is not something unfamiliar (he plays this classic emotionally constipated brooding man ever so often), his performance as William still allows him to showcase some more levity especially when it's interacting with the young actors alongside his bread and butter. God, he's so good in that last sequence. Speaking of the young actors, my god. All of them had a role in the tears shed... Jacobi Jupe... you are so loved and you are indeed so brave. Zhao's direction... a monster. She lingers but does not drag. Her signature naturalism allows her to spend precious moments to allow for the heaviness to steep and simmer, for the joy to light up the heart, and for the ethereal to become mesmerizing, not jarring. Gorgeous, gorgeous cinematography from Żal as well. The soaring shots of the forest, the wide shot of the Shakespeares' dining table, the framing of the first scene we see Agnes. Yup. What the hell?! This film is so tight, it's insane. I don't think I could tell you a scene wherein I felt like it could be cut shorter or a shot where can tack on a second or two. There is a sequence where it felt perfectly edited for me to be so choked up I forgot to breathe and then boom it cuts to this hand-held close-up that shakes me out of the trance. My last few thoughts about it is Wow. This film is so goddamn painful at times. There was an immense heaviness in my chest when I was watching the main plot unfold as if I was hoping that this does not come into fruition although it will. It had been foretold after all. Nevertheless, despite it, this film made me really think about children, family, and perhaps I desire it more than I initially thought. The film just got me to think about the sacrifice that comes with it and the fear of not being able to protect this one borne out of your love and knowing that you must let them walk, must let them grow even if in ways that you cannot fathom. An act of creation not unlike writing a play to be performed for centuries, reinterpreted and transformed into a multitude of things.