‘H Is For Hawk’ review: Claire Foy soars in Philippa Lowthorpe’s sensitive adaptation

Dir: Philippa Lowthorpe. UK. 2025. 115mins

Claire Foy goes head to beak with a large and intimidating-looking bird of prey in Philippa Lowthorpe’s sensitive adaptation of Helen Macdonald’s best-selling book, a combination of nature writing and memoir. Foy plays Cambridge academic Macdonald who, following the sudden death of their beloved father Alisdair (Brendon Gleeson), decides to channel their grief into training a goshawk, notoriously one of the most wild, fearsome and recalcitrant of all raptors. Foy is terrific in a film which balances bruising candour about mental health issues against arresting wildlife photography and a fervent appreciation of the natural world.

Captures some of the book’s meditative reverence for nature

The book’s popularity – it won the Samuel Johnson Prize and the Costa Book of the Year, among others – will be a key selling point for this elegant adaptation, as will Foy’s expressive and raw performance. US rights have been picked up by Roadside, and Foy could enter the awards conversation for her work. The film premiered in Telluride, but the version that screens in London has been further edited, losing nearly 15 minutes from its running time. At its current length the film works well, capturing some of the book’s meditative reverence for nature, particularly the ‘red in tooth and claw’ savagery of the natural world, without getting bogged down in longueurs.

The death of photojournalist Alisdair Macdonald from a heart attack is sudden and brutal. One moment Helen is calling him, to share the news of a sighting of a pair of goshawks in the wild. The next, he’s gone, returning sporadically in the stubborn, stabbing pangs of grief and vivid memories that haunt Helen’s every waking moment. Shown in flashbacks, Gleeson imbues the character with such warmth, infectious enthusiasm and curiosity about the world that we readily join with Helen in mourning his untimely death.

Helen’s decision to buy and train a goshawk as a means to process their grief is not as outlandish as it might initially seem. An experienced falconer, Helen has close connections with the falconry community – Sam Spruell gives a gentle, low-key performance as Stuart, fellow raptor trainer and Helen’s rock during times of stress. And the link between falconry and grief has been mined before, with Julian Goldberger’s 2006 adaptation of Harry Crews’ novel The Hawk Is Dying exploring similar themes. There’s a kinship, too, with Nora Fingscheidt’s The Outrun.

But while the obsessive focus and patience required to gain the bird’s trust provides a distraction from Helen’s sadness, it also disengages her from the world, her work and her increasingly anxious friends and family. A powerful scene sees Helen takes the hawk to a university department reception. After a few faltering attempts at small talk, the other guests recede, leaving Helen alone and solemn with the hawk on their arm scanning the room with prehistoric amber eyes. The bird, named Mabel, consumes Helen’s energy and focus: it fills up the gaps where the sadness might lurk; it acts as a barrier that keeps life at arm’s length. It is not, Helen’s close friend Christina (Denise Gough) points out, an entirely healthy state of affairs.

Not everything that made Macdonald’s book such a profound and rewarding read makes it onto the screen. A biographical element, about the writer T.H. White, author of The Goshawk, is excised completely. And Macdonald’s exquisitely phrased meditations on bereavement are another casualty. But the picture has other strengths: the satisfying, fleshed-out performances are one. Another is the look of the picture, a handsomely photographed appreciation of the British landscape and the creatures that inhabit it.

The tech credits are impressive, with the cinematography – both DP Charlotte Bruus Christensen’s reverent shots of textured feathers and wildlife cameraman Mark Payne-Gill’s thrilling footage of Mabel in flight – a particular standout. Also notable is work from the make up department on a blood-crusted claw gouge on Helen’s face which gradually fades, healing in tandem with the scars of grief on her soul. And an emotional climax uses the real-life photographic archive of Alisdair Macdonald to powerful effect.