A Shakespeare Story in Need of Brushing Up

During one of the most critical scenes in the play Hamnet, a grieving mother, Agnes, watches in awe at the theater world of her husband, William Shakespeare. A world of costumes and nightly death, it also inspires reverence, and she comes to understand that her late son was the quintessence of glory.

To see Agnes absorb Hamlet’s every word despite not understanding most of them is to witness simultaneous grief and healing. For eternity, she realizes, one of the world’s greatest plays will be connected to one of the universe’s most perfect 11-year-old boys.

Running through May 24 at San Francisco’s American Conservatory Theater, Hamnet gives agency to Shakespeare’s mysterious and enigmatic wife, known as Anne or Agnes. This is not a historical account of a woman who simply sat by as a dutiful spouse, raising three children in Stratford-upon-Avon as Shakespeare gallivanted through London’s seedy and bustling Elizabethan theater district. Nor is it Shakespeare in Love, the 1998 film which portrays Anne as a loveless hindrance to Shakespeare’s quill and immortality.

Hamnet is more on par with the jukebox musical & Juliet, in which Anne directly questions the misogyny of Shakespeare’s storytelling. (A young teenage girl throwing her life away for a dithering and pathetic boy who changes his passions like he changes his underwear? What kind of hot garbage is that, Will?)

Onstage at ACT, the battles between Agnes (Kemi-Bo Jacobs) and William (Rory Alexander) are filled with pain, as Shakespeare knows he has no choice but to make the four-day trek to London and continue writing plays that may someday change the world.

Lolita Chakrabarti’s adaptation from Maggie O’Farrell’s sweeping tale is a highly metaphoric jaunt through the thrill of new love — the mystery of this strange falcon girl who may have deep connections to witchcraft, and a base Latin tutor helping his father (Nigel Barrett) climb out of crippling debt.

In Erica Whyman’s astute direction, long swatches of material become babies and pregnancies. This theatrical approach complements a grand and rustic scenic design by Tom Piper, who also designed the costumes. Simon Baker’s soundscape leans heavily into deep bass to augment whispers and wisdom that form much of the play’s mystery.

Chakrabarti’s reimagined script veers somewhat from O’Farrell’s flashback-heavy 2020 novel. Yet it’s respectful to the novel’s great intentions (the stunning clarity in the book to describe a first tryst among the apples is staged beautifully here).

While much about ACT’s production works, it is not perfect. The initial sounds of child whispers are hard, if not impossible, to understand. While plenty of the show meets the story’s emotional demands, other moments fall toward a thinner, more unsatisfying end. Hard honesty moves through space with too much rapidity for an audience yearning for authenticity.

Some fantastic setups preface the second act’s more damaging moments. Anyone with the slightest knowledge of Shakespeare knows that Hamnet’s demise is near; a gentle, well-paced staging doesn’t make that any easier to digest. But take note of how Jacobs conveys the hurt. As in the Ocscar-winning 2025 film of Hamnet, Jacobs’ cries as Agnes are guttural, produced from a place that only exists for those who’ve bore and lost a child.

While William channels his agony into his opus, unbeknownst to those mourning back home, the stoic Agnes is the face of devastation, conveyed by Jacobs using every ounce of her emotions.

Both John and Mary (Penny Layden) represent the issues that encompass Will as he navigates a scandalous pregnancy out of wedlock. While Barrett conveys the horror of John’s temper in O’Farrell’s novel, he’s equally delightful as the bumbling comic actor Will Kempe. And Troy Alexander as Barthlolomew is a gargantuan presence, taking charge when he sees fit.

Art will always have the power to heal weary souls, contextualizing some of existence’s most distressing moments. Hamnet needs a greater commitment to manifest its own quintessence, but the pathway is there for the taking.

‘Hamnet’ runs through Sunday, May 24 at the Toni Rembe Theater in San Francisco. Tickets and more information here.