REVIEW: Hamnet at the Garrick Theatre

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐

Hamnet, Maggie O’Farrell’s 2020 fiction novel about Shakespeare’s family, was arguably one of the biggest literary sensations of that year, dominating virtual book clubs in lockdown and scooping the illustrious Women’s Prize for Fiction. But unlike most depictions of Shakespeare’s life, this story relegates the Bard to a secondary character, with his wife Anne Hathaway (known as Agnes) and their son Hamnet taking centre stage.

Three years later, Lolita Chakrabarti’s stage adaptation of Hamnet aptly premiered at the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon, before transferring to West End’s Garrick Theatre last September.

I went to see the production last week with a group of friends, some having read (and loved) the book and others — myself included — entering the theatre with only a few ideas about what to expect from the story.

Despite the play being named after Shakespeare’s son Hamnet, it’s Agnes Hathaway (played by Madeleine Mantock) who is the primary protagonist on stage. Lolita Chakrabarti’s script takes the audience through Agnes’s initial encounter with William Shakespeare (Tom Varey), their fast-blossoming romance, and her otherworldly premonitions about their two future children.

From the get-go, it’s clear to the audience that something ominous is looming, as Agnes hears the whispers of her unborn children, accompanied by eerie childlike sing-song and stark lighting.

Agnes’s clairvoyance creates a sense of mystery from the offset, leaving me curious as to what tragic fate was no doubt about to befall her. But this mystery fizzled out somewhat for me throughout Hamnet’s slow-paced first act. In addition to Agnes and Will, we’re introduced to a host of supporting characters, who often provide comic relief — Liza Sadovy as Mary and Peter Wight as John/Will Kempe were particular highlights — but ultimately slow down the pace of the story.

Act One culminates with the birth of Agnes’s second child, Hamnet (Ajani Cabey), but she is shocked to discover she has been carrying twins, giving birth to another baby, Judith (Alex Jarrett), shortly after. At this point it becomes clear that the growing sense of dread on stage has been leading up to this pivotal moment.

After such a long build-up to the birth of Agnes and William’s children — the titular Hamnet, in particular — I was a bit disappointed to see how quickly Act Two seemed to race through its central action. It’s not long after we first meet the grown-up children that Judith falls ill with the plague, with her devoted twin Hamnet looking after her before he eventually succumbs to the disease himself, dying suddenly in the night.

While Hamnet’s death is the main thread tying together the novel — told through a non-linear narrative, unlike the play — I couldn’t believe that this version of Hamnet gave the audience such little time to get to know him as a character before his passing. For me, this made what should have been a tragic and deeply moving moment fall emotionally flat, as the production hadn’t given me enough time to connect with Hamnet or get a full-bodied sense of his place in the family dynamics.

From there, Act Two showcases some potent depictions of grief, but there was still a lack of emotional payoff as a result of the pacing. The script truly hit its stride towards the end, where Agnes watches William’s new production of his play Hamlet at The Globe. Initially furious that he used their son’s name as the title of a play, she slowly realises that William’s distant behaviour after Hamnet’s death was a result of him channelling his grief through his work.

Visually, Hamnet is an absolute treat to watch. Director Erica Whyman perfectly captures the sense of foreboding throughout Act One through the repeated motif of Agnes’s future children playing on stage and whispering to their mother, completely unseen to any of the other characters. 

Whyman’s direction is beautifully accompanied by an exquisite set from designer Tom Piper, a versatile wooden structure that undergoes a magnificent transformation into London’s Globe Theatre for Hamnet’s final scenes. Props and smaller set pieces effectively convey a number of different locations — which can be an obstacle when adapting a novel for the stage — with seamless transitions aided by the actors.

There are also some sensational performances in Hamnet, with Mantock delivering a richly layered rendition of Agnes’s uniquely spirited nature, as well as her growing fear and, ultimately, her grief. And while William isn’t the star of this show, Varey gives a very convincing performance as the aspiring and almost arrogantly ambitious writer. But for me, the real highlights were Cabey and Jarrett’s performances as Hamnet and Judith.

Despite his relatively short stint on stage, Cabey’s Hamnet oozed with boyish charm and a twinkle in his eye, making it even more of a shame that we couldn’t have seen more of his character before his death. Meanwhile, Jarrett gave a delicate but emotionally raw performance as Judith, with a scene where she ponders her identity after Hamnet’s death striking the biggest chord with me emotionally.

Overall, Hamnet was a brave and bold adaptation possessing the RSC’s signature craftsmanship, but I couldn’t help but wonder if some of the magic from the pages of Maggie O’Farrell’s novel were lost in translation.

Reviewed on 10th January 2024.