Chloé Zhao’s Hamnet is a movie about grief. That can’t be denied, and the number of sodden Kleenexes swept up from auditorium floors during its theatrical release attests to the sadness that lives within the film. More than that, it seems to me, the film is about the embedded belief in the transporting power of art, whether creating it or witnessing it. Zhao worked with Maggie O’Farrell to adapt her 2020 novel of the same name, which speculated on the tragic backstory behind the writing of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet. In the film William Shakespeare is played by Paul Mescal, and his wife, Agnes, is played, ferociously and wonderfully, by Jessie Buckley. The focus is more on Agnes, because she stands apart from his inner world, teeming with kings and soldiers, and has more room to live a story of her own. It is also her story because the loss depicted pierces her more deeply, and she has further to travel to reach an understanding of how a loving memory can be passed down in such a way that a spirit endures. William is a conduit for art; Agnes is there to discover it and therefore illustrate its potency. In her filmmaking, Zhao realizes this complexity with elegance, insight, and radiance. All at once Hamnet argues and proves that creation has its greatest meaning when it is deeply, profoundly personal.