I cried so much reading Hamnet Maggie O'Farrell's film, I still remember that abyss: a hand reaching down my throat and placing a black hole in the pit of my stomach that throbbed as if it were about to burst. So before seeing director Chloé Zhao's recently released film adaptation eight Oscar nominationsThe expectation of a downpour was a ten out of ten on the stairs of my Plómetro (a reference to a popular Spanish TV show). And even more so, fueled by the marketing hype and my Instagram algorithm: lately I've been watching Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal more than my parents. In the queue at the Verdi Park cinemas, at the preview organized by the publishers L'Altra and Libros del Asteroide for industry guests and the press, I confirm that we're all armed with a pack of tissues because everyone here has read the book. Will this be a good thing or a bad thing? We'll find out when we leave.

The adaptation of book by Maggie O'Farrell The film opens with the protagonist nestled in the woods, viewed from a bird's-eye perspective that emphasizes how organically she fits into nature, like a baby in its mother's womb. Chloé Zhao's film thus deviates from the novel's opening to underscore its singular element: the centrality and autonomous identity of the protagonist, Agnes, who doesn't become William Shakespeare's wife until well into the narrative. From the outset, the film establishes how Agnes embodies a heterodox, yet idealized, model of femininity: the woman who doesn't conform to social or intellectual conventions, instead connecting with forms of experience and knowledge linked to the natural world. Zhao, therefore, sets aside the point of view of Hamnet, the young son of the main couple who gives the story its title, whose subjectivity doesn't take center stage until the dramatic turning point—a challenge the director resolves convincingly. O'Farrell's successful novel immerses the reader in Agnes's world through sensory experience. Zhao opts for a restrained, precious aesthetic that avoids academic constraints. However, in comparison, it feels somewhat flat. His most interesting decision is to film many interior scenes frontally, thus evoking the perspective of a theatrical audience. For example, when the son's room is left empty, it creates a continuity with the stage on which the father is staging a play. HamletAnd the idea of ​​trafficking, which visualizes the transfer of the child, makes sense. The entire final section, the theatrical performance, acquires an undeniable cathartic power, thanks also to the immense talent of Jessie Buckley, the actress who best embodies the role of the "normal" woman in contemporary cinema.