H Is for Hawk (2025)

The adaptation centers on Claire Foy as Helen, who turns to training a goshawk to process her father's death and finds unexpected solace in nature. The film explores grief's disorienting effects and offers a message of eventual healing.

Foy delivers a heartbreaking, restrained performance as the grieving Helen, conveying sorrow beneath a stoic exterior while finding solace in the goshawk. The film is overly long-winded with repetitive scenes that undercut its emotional payoff.

Lowthorpe pares the memoir to focus on Helen's eccentric choice of a goshawk as emotional escapism after her father's death. Foy is compelling as the irritable, anti-social protagonist, and the film movingly depicts cross-species connection and healing.

The film offers a sensitive portrayal of grief through a woman's bond with a goshawk after her father's death, with strong appreciation for the birds and nature. However, it is hindered by a slow, overlong runtime that dilutes its emotional impact.

The film is a graceful but uneven adaptation that fails to fully convey the emotional toll of mourning despite strong performances. It praises the palpable chemistry between Claire Foy and the hawk Mabel while criticizing the script's tweeness and lack of depth in exploring grief.

Philippa Lowthorpe’s adaptation of the memoir fails to capture the essence of the source material, resulting in a grief story that never fully takes flight despite Claire Foy's performance. The film loses much of what made the book special in its translation to screen.

The adaptation is beautiful and elegant with strong performances and cinematography capturing the bond with the hawk, but it fails to convey the memoir's grit and interiority. The result is an anaemic, bloodless film more like a kids' wildlife documentary than a raw exploration of grief.

Foy leads a unique, tender true-life tale of a grieving academic bonding with a goshawk, with impressively realistic scenes. The third act meanders, preventing the quiet study of grief and father-daughter bonds from fully taking flight.

Foy is terrific in this sensitive adaptation balancing candour about mental health with arresting wildlife photography and reverence for nature. It captures the book's meditative quality without longueurs after editing for its London screening following the Telluride premiere.

The film is a handsome, stouthearted adaptation that treats its source with care but streamlines emotional nuances and simplifies the book's complex articulation of grief. Claire Foy's dry and intense performance anchors the most moving scenes with the goshawk, while interpersonal drama remains a weak spot.

The film is an intriguing if slightly precious adaptation that addresses grief through goshawk training but does not deliver a full Hollywood redemption arc. Foy's authentic handling of the bird stands out as a highlight.

Lowthorpe’s film streamlines the book effectively while preserving its emotional depth and candour about bereavement. Foy delivers a terrific, committed central performance that captures the wild intensity of grief and connection with nature.

This warm yet pensive adaptation captures the crunchily autumnal magic of the memoir through lovely lead performances and the bird’s presence. It contrasts tender flashbacks with the tentative rapport between Helen and her goshawk.

Foy has never been better in this stiff-upper-lip grief story of a woman reconciling with her father’s death through nature and a goshawk. The film admires the protagonist’s search for meaning without strings or wailing.

Claire Foy shines in this low-key but moving adaptation of the memoir about grief and training a goshawk. The visual metaphors are striking and nature scenes are bleakly gorgeous, though the running time outstays its welcome.

Foy delivers a captivating performance that keeps the grief study from feeling overwhelmingly gloomy, blending pain with moments of connection through the hawk relationship. The film succeeds in its focused, non-dwellling exploration of loss and coping.

The film is a moving true story of grief and healing through the bond with a goshawk, with Claire Foy delivering her best screen work to date as the protagonist. Philippa Lowthorpe’s assured direction and the script resist easy sentimentality while showcasing remarkably beautiful cinematography of the natural world and falconry.

The film is a precise, unsettling and quietly devastating portrayal of inhabiting grief through an obsessive, isolating bond with a goshawk, rather than a conventional healing story. Foy's authentic, physical performance is singled out as the greatest strength.

The critic praises the film's sensitive, patient approach to humanising grief rather than dramatising it, allowing space for the audience to connect with the protagonist's experience. Foy's quietly transformative performance and the emotional world-building through direction, cinematography, and score are highlighted as strengths.