Claire Foy on Grief, Goshawks, and the Quiet Truth of H Is for Hawk

Grief, Claire Foy suggests, is rarely loud. It doesn’t always announce itself in dramatic gestures or visible breakdowns. More often, it lives quietly inside the body, surfacing in fragmented moments, contradictions, and unexpected flashes of humor. That understanding lies at the heart of H Is for Hawk, the adaptation of Helen Macdonald’s memoir, and it shaped Foy’s deeply internal performance as Helen.

While the film involves the highly specialized world of falconry, Helen’s attempt to train a goshawk named Mabel after the sudden death of her father, Foy admits that the technical challenges of working with birds were far less daunting than the emotional responsibility of portraying grief truthfully.

One of the most striking elements of H Is for Hawk is how restrained it feels. Much of Helen’s inner turmoil is conveyed through stillness, silence, and close observation rather than overt expression. Foy credits director Philippa Lowthorpe’s background in documentary filmmaking for that approach.

Lowthorpe, Foy explains, didn’t want the grief “externalized” in a conventional sense. Instead, the camera stays close often uncomfortably so allowing the audience to observe rather than be instructed how to feel. “It felt like someone was watching,” Foy says, “as opposed to someone manipulating.”

That choice gave Foy freedom to dial emotional intensity up or down, avoiding what she describes as an emotionally claustrophobic experience. Helen’s grief is profound, but it isn’t constant at full volume. Moments of laughter, absurdity, and lightness emerge organically because that’s how grief often works in real life.

The film embraces this messiness. Helen’s attachment to her bird Mabel doesn’t “fix” her grief. If anything, it initially deepens her isolation. The bird becomes both refuge and barrier, a way to make something else loom larger in the room so that conversations about loss don’t have to happen.

“It’s a way of saying, ‘Don’t talk to me,’” Foy explains. The goshawk is an extreme presence, immediately marking Helen as separate from everyone else. It reflects her desire to be less human, to escape the vulnerability of connection, love, and inevitable loss.

That tension of loss sits at the philosophical core of the film. You cannot protect yourself from grief without also cutting yourself off from meaning. “Things end,” Foy says plainly. “Someone will die. You’ll die. And you can still do them anyway.”

The film doesn’t treat this realization as a neat epiphany. Helen doesn’t suddenly become “better.” Instead, there’s a slow, uneven movement toward re-engagement with the world, one marked by setbacks, avoidance, and incremental change.

One of Foy’s key challenges was charting Helen’s gradual withdrawal from the world. Rather than a single breaking point, the film shows a quiet creep: unanswered mail, unopened doors, shrinking horizons. Foy mapped this progression carefully, especially because scenes were often shot out of sequence.

Mabel, played by five different goshawks at various stages of training, was not just a symbol but a living scene partner. Foy emphasizes that the birds’ welfare was always the priority, and that working with them demanded presence, calm, and attentiveness.

By the time interior scenes were shot, Foy had spent weeks with the birds and grown genuinely close to them. Maintaining the emotional arc meant constantly adjusting her interactions to match where Helen was in her relationship with Mabel.

The production’s documentary style flexibility helped. Scenes often unfolded instinctively, with the camera responding to the bird’s movements rather than forcing them into rigid blocking. The result is a sense of authenticity that feels earned rather than staged.

By the film’s end, Helen hasn’t solved her grief. But she has accepted help. She speaks aloud what she’s been carrying. There is movement, if not resolution.

For Foy, that honesty is what makes H Is for Hawk resonate. Grief doesn’t conclude; it changes shape. And in the quiet spaces between loss and connection, the film finds its deepest truth.

Watch the full conversation below:

Q&A on the film H Is for Hawk with actor Claire Foy. Moderated by Mara Webster, In Creative Company.