Reinterpreting Shakespeare is a perilous act of cinematic translation. Aneil Karia’s Hamlet offers a visceral and intense modernization of the famous tragedy, relocating the drama to contemporary London. The story unfolds within a wealthy British South-Asian family presiding over a vast corporate empire.
At the center of this storm is Riz Ahmed, whose performance is the production’s undeniable anchor. The film presents a stripped-down, fast-paced version of the tale, focusing entirely on the psychological torment of its hero. This is a gritty adaptation that trades royal courts for glass-walled boardrooms and existential contemplation for raw, immediate fury.
Cultural Rites and Corporate Wrongs
The film grounds its narrative in a specific cultural identity, framing the royal family as a powerful British South-Asian dynasty. This choice adds a distinct texture, seen immediately in the opening scene depicting a Hindu death ritual for Hamlet’s father.
This act of authentic cultural representation provides a potent emotional starting point, establishing Hamlet’s grief not just as personal loss but as a violation of sacred family duty, a theme with deep roots in South Asian storytelling. The quiet solemnity of the ceremony contrasts sharply with the violent emotions that soon erupt.
The adaptation replaces the Danish kingdom with the Elsinore corporation, a metaphor for modern power. This choice is debatable; a hostile corporate takeover, while ruthless, may not possess the same primal weight as the assassination of a king. Regicide is an assault on a divinely appointed order, a mythic crime that destabilizes an entire nation. A boardroom coup feels smaller, a matter of commerce rather than cosmos, which can make the ensuing tragic violence seem disproportionate.
Karia’s visual language, dominated by handheld cameras and tight close-ups, creates a palpable sense of claustrophobia and paranoia. The restless camera work mimics Hamlet’s own agitated mind, refusing to give the audience a stable vantage point. This style immerses the viewer directly in his deteriorating mental state, forcing us to experience his world as a disorienting series of threatening encounters and suffocating interiors.
The aesthetic grounds the Shakespearean drama in the language of the modern psychological thriller. This approach is most effective when it merges the ancient with the modern, as when the ghost of Hamlet’s father appears not on a castle battlement but on a high-rise rooftop, a lonely specter against the indifferent, sprawling lights of London.
The Fury of a Wounded Son
This version of the tragedy belongs completely to Riz Ahmed. His portrayal of Hamlet is a physical and ferocious spectacle, a creature of pure nerve and instinct. He is driven by uncontained fury instead of melancholic indecision, his grief externalized into a weapon. Ahmed uses his entire body to communicate this torment; he coils with tension in one moment and erupts with kinetic violence in the next.
This is a prince of action, and his non-verbal expressions of rage and heartbreak are deeply affecting. Through his raw, contemporary delivery, the centuries-old language feels immediate and accessible, as if the words were forged in the fire of his own pain. The film explores Hamlet’s madness through the modern lens of psychological trauma, amplified by grief and substance abuse. It presents a man whose mind is genuinely unraveling in an environment that offers no solace or understanding, making his isolation absolute.
The supporting cast operates in the shadow of this central performance, their roles intentionally diminished to heighten Hamlet’s solitude. The condensed script reduces characters like Ophelia (Morfydd Clark) and Laertes (Joe Alwyn) to sketches, making them feel more like symbols of lost innocence and corrupted friendship than fully realized people.
This choice sacrifices their individual stories to intensify the claustrophobia of Hamlet’s personal journey. More memorable are Sheeba Chaddha’s Gertrude and Art Malik’s Claudius. Chaddha portrays Gertrude with a compelling ambiguity, caught between willful ignorance and dawning horror. Malik’s Claudius is a smooth, confident operator, a modern CEO whose composure slowly cracks as he loses control of the narrative he so carefully constructed. Their performances register with greater force as the consequences of their deception become brutally clear.
An Accelerated Descent
The script’s structure is lean and accelerated, stripping the play down to its violent core. By removing characters like Horatio, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern, the film denies Hamlet any true confidant. Horatio, in particular, traditionally acts as an anchor to reason and an outside observer who validates Hamlet’s experience.
Without him, this Hamlet is terrifyingly alone, and the audience is left with no one else’s perspective to trust. This sharp focus creates a relentless forward momentum, giving the first half a jolt of thriller-like energy that builds toward a powerful peak.
The film’s creative interpretation is best seen in two key sequences. The “play-within-a-play” is brilliantly staged as a dazzling, accusatory dance performance during the wedding. Using vibrant choreography rooted in South Asian traditions, the scene weaponizes art, turning a wedding celebration into a public indictment. It is the movie’s visual and emotional high point.
In contrast, the famous “To be or not to be” soliloquy, delivered while Hamlet speeds recklessly in a car, is a riskier choice. It is a visceral depiction of his death wish, turning an internal debate into an external, life-threatening act. Some may find it a heavy-handed visualization that overpowers the profound text it means to illuminate.
The film struggles to maintain its creative momentum in its second half. After the peak of the wedding sequence, the pacing feels more like a conventional race toward a preordained, bloody end. The need to resolve the plot seems to take precedence over the psychological exploration that made the first half so effective, leaving the final tragedies feeling somewhat inevitable but emotionally muted.
The film premiered at the Telluride Film Festival on August 30, 2025. It is a modern-day reimagining of Shakespeare’s play, set in London. The movie is distributed by Focus Features and Universal Pictures, so you can expect it to be available in theaters and on streaming platforms associated with these distributors.
Full Credits
Director: Aneil Karia
Writers: Michael Lesslie, William Shakespeare
Producers and Executive Producers: Jim Wilson, Riz Ahmed, Michael Lesslie, Allie Moore, Tommy Oliver, Ken Kao, Josh Rosenbaum, Eva Yates, Claudia Yusef
Cast: Riz Ahmed, Morfydd Clark, Joe Alwyn, Art Malik, Timothy Spall, Sheeba Chaddha, Avijit Dutt
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Stuart Bentley
Editors: Mikkel E.G. Nielsen, Amanda James
Composer: Maxwell Sterling
The Review
Hamlet
Aneil Karia’s Hamlet is a shot of adrenaline, powered by a monumental, ferocious performance from Riz Ahmed. The film’s modern, culturally specific setting offers a fresh lens, and its first half is a masterclass in tension. Yet, the adaptation is uneven. Its streamlined narrative leaves supporting characters thin, and its second act loses the creative fire of its beginning. It is a bold, visceral take that is essential viewing for Ahmed's performance alone, even if the film surrounding him does not consistently match his brilliance.
PROS
- A powerful and physically commanding central performance from Riz Ahmed.
- An intense, fast-paced, and gripping first half.
- Effective use of a modern British South-Asian setting to add cultural depth.
- Visually inventive sequences, especially the wedding dance scene.
CONS
- Supporting characters are underdeveloped due to the streamlined script.
- The film loses momentum and creative energy in its second half.
- The central metaphor of a corporate takeover lacks the dramatic weight of the original's regicide.
- Some directorial choices feel overly literal and heavy-handed.
