As the holiday season winds down and streaming platforms offer cozy escapes, one period drama is captivating audiences anew with its quiet intensity and profound emotional depth. All Is True, Kenneth Branagh’s elegant 2018 film exploring the twilight years of William Shakespeare, has found a fresh wave of admiration, particularly for Dame Judi Dench’s extraordinary portrayal of Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare’s long-suffering wife. Critics and viewers are hailing it as one of Dench’s finest performances in recent years – a restrained yet devastating turn that anchors this intimate, haunting story of regret, family secrets, and artistic legacy. Elegant, beautifully crafted, and emotionally resonant, this prestige drama pulls you in with its subtle power, demanding to be watched in one breathless sitting.
Directed by and starring Kenneth Branagh as the Bard himself, All Is True takes its title from the alternative name of Shakespeare’s play Henry VIII. The story begins in 1613, when a catastrophic fire destroys the Globe Theatre during a performance – a real historical event that marked the end of Shakespeare’s active theatrical career. Devastated, the world’s greatest playwright retires to his family home in Stratford-upon-Avon, confronting a life he largely neglected in pursuit of fame in London. What unfolds is a poignant, fictionalized portrait of domestic strife, unresolved grief, and quiet reconciliation, blending historical fact with imaginative speculation in a way that humanizes the mythic figure.
Branagh, a lifelong Shakespeare devotee known for his adaptations of Henry V, Hamlet, and Much Ado About Nothing, brings a deeply personal touch to the project. The screenplay, penned by comedian and writer Ben Elton, avoids grand spectacle in favor of chamber-piece intimacy, focusing on Shakespeare’s relationships with his wife Anne, his two surviving daughters – the married Susanna and the sharp-tongued Judith – and the lingering shadow of his deceased son, Hamnet. The film grapples with profound themes: the cost of genius on personal bonds, the constraints of gender in Jacobean society, parental favoritism, and the search for closure in later life. It’s a melancholic yet tender exploration, laced with subtle humor and Shakespearean echoes, that feels timeless in its emotional truth.

At the center of this reflective narrative is Judi Dench as Anne Hathaway, delivering what many consider a career-highlight performance despite the film’s ensemble nature. Dench, then in her mid-80s, portrays Anne as a resilient, pragmatic woman who has endured years of absence from her famous husband. Illiterate in a world that valued education, yet wise and fiercely protective of her family, Anne harbors resentments born from loneliness and unspoken losses. Dench’s interpretation is masterful in its restraint – her expressive eyes convey volumes of unspoken pain, while her sharp wit cuts through the gloom. Moments of tenderness, like her rekindling intimacy with Shakespeare in the infamous “second-best bed” bequeathed to her in his will, are heartbreakingly authentic. Viewers rave about how Dench captures Anne’s complexity: a woman who is both victim of circumstance and pillar of strength, her performance lingering like a quiet storm long after the credits roll.
Branagh’s Shakespeare is a compelling counterpart – bearded, weary, and haunted by guilt over Hamnet’s death at age 11. He obsesses over creating a grand garden in his son’s memory, a metaphor for his futile attempts to cultivate neglected family ties. The film subtly suggests Shakespeare’s grief influenced works like The Winter’s Tale, adding layers of meta-commentary. A standout sequence features Ian McKellen in a cameo as the Earl of Southampton, Shakespeare’s patron and possible romantic interest from the sonnet dedications. Their charged, intimate conversation crackles with subtext, McKellen’s flamboyant flair contrasting Branagh’s subdued melancholy in a scene that’s both witty and poignant.
The supporting cast shines brightly. Kathryn Wilder delivers a fiery breakthrough as Judith, Hamnet’s twin, whose bitterness toward her father’s perceived favoritism drives much of the conflict. Lydia Wilson as Susanna navigates suspicions of scandal with poise, while lesser-known actors fill out the Stratford community with naturalistic warmth. The ensemble dynamic feels lived-in, emphasizing the film’s theme of ordinary humanity beneath extraordinary legacy.
Visually, All Is True is a feast of subdued beauty. Cinematographer Zac Nicholson employs candlelit interiors and misty English landscapes to evoke a painterly, Rembrandt-like glow, mirroring the era’s artistic sensibilities. The production design meticulously recreates early 17th-century Stratford, from humble homes to lush gardens symbolizing renewal. Patrick Doyle’s spare, evocative score underscores the emotional undercurrents without overwhelming the dialogue-heavy script.
What makes the film so powerful is its refusal to mythologize Shakespeare. Instead, it presents him as a flawed man – distant father, ambivalent husband, tormented by loss yet unable to fully articulate his feelings. Revelations about family secrets, particularly surrounding Hamnet’s death and Judith’s hidden talents, add devastating twists that reframe Shakespeare’s creative output through personal tragedy. The narrative tiptoes between fact and fiction, acknowledging the gaps in historical records while offering empathetic speculation.
Upon its initial release, All Is True earned strong reviews for its impressive cast and thoughtful execution, with particular acclaim for Dench’s “solid yet luminous” support and Branagh’s direction. It premiered quietly but resonated with those seeking intelligent adult drama amid blockbuster noise. Now, years later, its availability on streaming has sparked renewed enthusiasm. Audiences describe it as “emotionally devastating” yet cathartic, a film that unfolds slowly but grips relentlessly. Many note its relevance to themes of aging, regret, and family reconciliation – universal concerns that hit harder in reflective moments.
In an era of fast-paced entertainment, All Is True stands as a reminder of the power of quiet storytelling. It’s not a boisterous biopic but a meditative elegy, honoring Shakespeare’s humanity while showcasing the enduring brilliance of its stars. Dench, in particular, reminds us why she’s a legend: her Anne Hathaway is fierce, vulnerable, and unforgettable, a performance of subtle devastation that elevates the entire film.
Whether you’re a Shakespeare enthusiast, a fan of prestige period pieces, or simply seeking a deeply moving story, this gem deserves your undivided attention. Elegant and haunting, it refuses to let go – much like the Bard’s own words, echoing through the ages.