Let’s Talk Cinema: The Case for Paul Mescal

The ultimate achievement in acting is not necessarily the awards or mantel hardware you collect for any given performance. The goal, above all, is to create a performance so rich and impactful that it lingers in the mind of the viewer. It’s easy to spot a fake, because there are so few actors who can reach the depths of a character in a way that feels fully believable and leaves an indelible mark.

There were only a few performances this year that did that for me. One, I believe, will be clean-sweeping the season—Jessie Buckley. The other, which to me should also be clean-sweeping and yet is going down as an also-ran, is Paul Mescal.

I want to be transparent—because that’s who I am. I haven’t watched many of Paul’s films. He hasn’t been an actor I paid much attention to, for no reason other than the simple fact that I just hadn’t. So when I finally got the chance to see Hamnet, I was surprised. Not only was I blown away by Jessie, but Paul absolutely WOWED me even more. I will die on this hill: Paul Mescal gave the performance of the year! In a just world, Jessie and Paul would both win Oscars for Hamnet. But when it comes to the Oscars, we all know it’s a game—a rigged, unfair game—but one that’s endlessly fun to bicker over and try to predict.

I shouted from the rooftops when Hamnet won Best Picture (Drama) at the Golden Globes, because it is the film I loved the most this year. Chloé Zhao crafted a masterful film—from the writing (which should be winning Adapted Screenplay easily), to the directing (her best work yet), to drawing out the two most powerful performances of the year from her actors. It is a stunning piece of cinema from top to bottom and deserves far more respect and awards love than it is getting.

When it felt as though the rapture had happened when Hamnet premiered at Telluride, I was skeptical. I most definitely rolled my eyes at the meditations Zhao was doing with audiences before screenings. With pundits talking as if it were a life-changing experience, and stories of audiences openly weeping, I began to dread watching the film. Loss and grief are part of the human experience, but as a young dad, the most horrible and unimaginable pain I can think of is losing one of my children. To see something like that on screen is something I actively avoid.

I’ve watched people live out that awful pain, and I never want to give it headspace. Being a dad has changed me in so many ways, including my taste in movies and subject matter. Horror films and stories centered on grief and loss are the two areas I now shy away from completely.

So when it came time to watch Hamnet, I entered cautiously, with low expectations and a lot of fear. I am so glad I worked up the courage to let this film in, because it changed my brain chemistry.

Paul’s journey as William Shakespeare begins as a young tutor, captivated by a woman seemingly overlooked—too quirky for society’s narrow standards. He falls for her completely, unable to get enough. Like water, he drinks from her; she is life abundant to him. Together they build a family, a family of little forest people. Life is full and beautiful. Shakespeare writes stories that captivate the world… until suddenly life is no longer beautiful. There is a hole where once there was joy and laughter—the loss of a precious child: Hamnet. Curious. Lovable. The only son. A light to Shakespeare, gone.

Grief is a darkness so heavy it threatens to destroy everything in its path. As Agnes, portrayed brilliantly by Jessie Buckley, grows angrier and more resentful, Shakespeare turns to the only thing he knows how to do—he writes. Somehow, out of the weight and bleakness of loss, emerges one of the most revered pieces of art ever written: Hamlet.

At the premiere of the play, Agnes and Shakespeare find a way to face their loss and begin the journey toward healing, in what can only be described as one of the most poignant scenes of the year.

Paul brilliantly portrays Shakespeare in a way that feels effortless and yet heartbreakingly profound. His grief after Hamnet’s death isn’t something you simply watch—it’s something you feel. Anyone who can watch that final stage scene and walk away unmoved has a cold heart. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, and I don’t think I ever will.

I can’t forget it, because I know at any given moment that nightmare could be mine. The thought alone fills me with tears. When I watched Paul, I saw my greatest fear. His pain became mine. My pain became his. Unbelievable.

It is hard to understand where Paul and Jessie found the emotional depths to portray these characters. At times, it feels as if the life on screen is real, as if Paul truly is Shakespeare and those events actually happened. Seeing them on red carpets as themselves feels disorienting, because all I can see are the people who shattered my heart and rewired my brain. To me, that is the ultimate testament to how extraordinary their work in Hamnet is.

There were other films I liked this year, but the chasm between liked and loved is vast. Hamnet is the one film I loved—the one I can’t stop thinking about and the one that will stay with me forever. The best films of the year rarely win Best Picture, and this year will likely be no different. Still, seeing Hamnet get its flowers at the Globes gave me hope.

But it will be criminal, absolutely CRIMINAL, if Paul Mescal has to sit on the sidelines after acting circles around his competition. In my heart, he gave the best performance of the year, and the competition isn’t close.

To that, I must say: