For films and books about Shakespeare’s life, there is little source material to draw on beyond the few known facts of the great writer’s parentage, hometown, marriage, children, property and death. Shakespeare biopics therefore require considerable speculation and invention on the part of writers and directors.
Director Chloe Zhao’s earthy and sensuous film Hamnet is based on the book by Maggie O’ Farrell, who also co-wrote the screenplay. It not only foregrounds Shakespeare’s personal rather than professional life but does this by focusing chiefly on the experience of his previously maligned wife, Anne Hathaway (referred to as Agnes in the film).
From the 18th century to well into the 20th, Shakespeare biographers and researchers tended to represent Hathaway in highly negative terms. She was viewed as the “shrewish” wife that Shakespeare impregnated, was forced to marry and later escaped by fleeing Stratford for the exciting world of the London theatre.
This perception of Hathaway is grounded in sexist assumptions drawn from the few known facts of their marriage. Namely, that she was eight years his senior, he was only 18 when they wed, she was already pregnant and he spent many years of their marriage working in London.
The popular 1998 romantic comedy, Shakespeare in Love, reproduced the “shrewish” Hathaway narrative. She is absent from the film, but Shakespeare (Joseph Fiennes) dolefully comments on his sexless, loveless marriage and finds genuine passion instead with London-based heroine, Viola (Gwyneth Paltrow).
The more recent film, All Is True (2018) offers a different view. It depicts Hathaway and Shakespeare’s marriage in their twilight years, when the playwright has resettled in Stratford and is finally mourning the death of his son, Hamnet. Although Hathaway is central to the drama, she is depicted as an ageing and conformist provincial wife. Casting Judy Dench in the role alongside the much younger Kenneth Branagh as Shakespeare, also accentuated their age difference.
Hamnet’s Agnes
In sharp contrast, Hamnet’s Agnes (Jessie Buckley) is a young, robust and free-spirited woman who is associated with nature rather than dull domesticity.
Zhao and O’Farrell establish the themes of the film early on by opening with a scene of Agnes wandering in the richly toned mossy forest with her hawk. This view of Agnes draws on Shakespeare’s vision of the magical “green world”. But it also captures the atmosphere and skilled world-building of O’Farrell’s novel in which Agnes, like her long dead mother, is skilled and knowledgeable in turning herbs and flowers into remedies that are valued by the local community.
While many representations of Elizabethan life are centred on the largely male-dominated culture of politics and courtly life, Hamnet offers an account of the busy and productive life of an ordinary (if eccentric) Elizabethan wife and mother. Agnes is in charge of the labour-intensive life of the household. Her family home is situated in the centre of Stratford, boarded by a muddy, dirty, bustling thoroughfare. Women are shown as managing the core human processes of birth and death, birthing in an all-female environment and desperately struggling to keep their children alive in an age of precarious health and mortality.
As other critics have argued, the film’s climax – in which Hamlet is interpreted as the artistic expression of Shakespeare’s personal grief over the loss of his son – is one of the less convincing aspects of the film. Hamlet is essentially a revenge tragedy and Shakespeare’s plots were largely derived from classical and historical sources rather than personal experience.
Yet its heart-wrenching portrayal of Agnes’ anguish over her child’s untimely death is moving and persuasive, offsetting the modern misconception that as child mortality was higher, these experiences were less painful. The death of Hamnet is therefore recast as a tragedy for his mother, who birthed and raised him, rather than just the writer-genius, Shakespeare.
Hamnet’s representation of Agnes/Anne is, of course, almost entirely speculative. Only the wealthiest of women were literate at this time, so unlike her husband, Hathaway left no written traces. However, as Zhao and O’Farrell’s feminist film clearly illustrates, women’s lack of formal education and career opportunities did not mean that they contributed less to their communities – or that we should regard their lives as less meaningful.
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Roberta Garrett does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
