When Claire Foy first donned the crown in Netflix’s acclaimed drama The Crown, she may not have realized how profoundly the role would alter her career. Foy, now 41, became a household name for her intimate portrayal of Queen Elizabeth II, a performance that not only won her critical acclaim but also opened doors she never imagined. But as she steps into a new chapter with the release of H for Hawk—a film that trades royal palaces for the raw, windswept fields of personal grief—Foy reflects on her transformative journey through the world of queens, both literal and metaphorical.
Before she was the poised monarch at Buckingham Palace, Foy was no stranger to royal intrigue. In BBC Two’s Wolf Hall, she played Anne Boleyn, the ill-fated Tudor queen whose ambition and passion famously led to her downfall. “Her real downfall was that she couldn’t leave well enough alone: she was supposed to be silent and graceful and admired, but wouldn’t be that ethereal figure,” Foy told The Independent. “She wanted to be in the thick of it.” The contrast between Boleyn’s fiery involvement in court politics and Elizabeth II’s reserved, stabilizing presence couldn’t be starker.
Foy herself acknowledges this duality. In a recent interview with Radio Times, she said, “Afterwards, I got opportunities I’d never had before. It’s like the biggest promotion you can imagine.” Yet, despite the allure of regal roles, Foy has drawn a line in the sand. “There aren’t that many queens and I did two of them! I think any more would be weird,” she said candidly on January 20, 2026. For fans hoping she’ll return to the throne—any throne—Foy’s message is clear: her days as a queen are behind her.
This decision comes as she pivots to a role that’s both deeply personal and universally relatable. In H for Hawk, which opened in theaters on January 23, 2026, Foy plays Helen Macdonald, a Cambridge University professor whose world is upended by the sudden loss of her photojournalist father, portrayed by Brendan Gleeson. The film, adapted from Macdonald’s bestselling 2014 memoir, is a somber, unflinching look at grief—and the strange, sometimes beautiful ways we try to heal.
According to the Mercury News, Foy’s Helen is “a brittle, aching character who shuts herself off from others, including her best friend, her mom, and her brother.” Instead, Helen turns to an unlikely companion: a wild goshawk named Mabel. The process of training and bonding with the bird becomes more than a distraction; it’s an obsession, a way to channel her sorrow and avoid the pain she can’t bear to face. As the review notes, “Helen gets defensive when those around her express concern about her behavior and her unkempt conditions.”
The film’s narrative unfolds in a series of poignant flashbacks, revealing the depth of Helen’s relationship with her father and their shared love of birding. These moments, says the Mercury News, are “quite moving,” offering glimpses of warmth and connection in a story otherwise steeped in loss. Foy’s performance, internalized and raw, “conveys how important it is to reconcile with grief, not to abandon it nor place it on an out-of-the-way emotional shelf.”
Brendan Gleeson, as Helen’s father, brings a gentle gravity to the role, serving as both a memory and a guiding presence. The film doesn’t shy away from the messiness of mourning: Helen forgets appointments, neglects her father’s eulogy until the last minute, and even transforms her flat into what the review calls a “poopy aviary.” For anyone who has ever lost someone, these details ring painfully true.
What sets H for Hawk apart from other explorations of grief is its refusal to offer easy answers. The story doesn’t wrap Helen’s journey in a neat bow or suggest that healing is ever complete. Instead, it lingers in the tangled, unresolved spaces of sorrow, where comfort is fleeting and progress is measured in small, often invisible steps. “Where the film misses out is in making Helen a complete person, content in not venturing too far beyond this particular trying time in her life,” the Mercury News observes. But perhaps that’s the point: some losses are too profound to be tidily overcome.
Foy’s choice to take on such a role feels like a natural evolution from her previous work. While playing queens required her to embody public figures whose lives were defined by duty and restraint, Helen Macdonald is a character stripped of ceremony, struggling simply to get through each day. Yet, in both cases, Foy brings a quiet strength to her performances, finding dignity in vulnerability and truth in silence.
For Foy, the transition from crown to hawk is more than a change of scenery—it’s a deliberate step away from the trappings of royalty and towards stories rooted in the everyday. “It’s like the biggest promotion you can imagine,” she said of The Crown, but she seems just as proud of her new direction. In H for Hawk, she proves that the most powerful stories are often the most personal, and that the journey from grief to acceptance—however incomplete—is worthy of exploration.
The release of H for Hawk has been met with generally positive reviews, with critics praising Foy’s nuanced performance and the film’s honest depiction of mourning. While some have noted its slow pace and somber tone, most agree that it resonates for anyone who has wrestled with loss. The film’s arrival on January 23, 2026, offers audiences a chance to see Foy in a new light—no crown required.
As for what’s next, Foy remains committed to roles that challenge her, whether or not they come with a throne. With H for Hawk, she reminds us that sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is simply face our pain head-on—and that healing, like training a wild hawk, is a process that can’t be rushed or forced. For viewers, it’s a lesson that lingers long after the credits roll.
In stepping away from royalty, Claire Foy has found a new kind of power: the ability to make us feel seen in our most vulnerable moments. And that, perhaps, is the greatest role of all.