There are a handful of roles in the theatrical cannon that an actress covets. Chief among them is Hedda Gabler, Henrik Ibsen’s tragic creation. A woman desperate to control not only her own fortunes but the fortunes and actions of those around her. It’s a hell of a role – one that has tempted many an actress and swallowed her whole. Which makes the enterprise of adapting that play daunting. And adapting that play in a manner that changes core elements of the text – namely, queering the central love triangle while also introducing the complexities of race into a very white story – well, that’s just increasing the degree of difficulty tenfold. But, in Hedda, adapted and directed by Nia DaCosta and starring Tessa Thompson in the titular role, those changes take this story to new heights – and Thompson’s restrained but chilling performance makes this Hedda someone to be feared and pitied in ways one wouldn’t expect.
The central story of the film follows the broad strokes of Ibsen’s play. Married to an up-and-coming professor (Tom Bateman, great at conveying just how lost his George is in the riptide that is Hedda) and stifled in every way, Hedda is not only bored, she’s rudderless. So when her ex-lover, Eileen (Nina Hoss, who is absolutely heartbreakingly brilliant in the gender-swapped role), calls to tell her she will be attending the soiree Hedda is throwing, it ignites a spark within her. This is her chance to win Eileen back. Of course, a complication arises – Eileen’s current paramour, Thea (a spectacular Imogen Poots) arrives. It turns out that Thea and Eileen have been collaborating on a new book – something Hedda wants to do, as she feels no one appreciates her mind, just her body – and Eileen is in line for the professorship that George is also gunning for. Let the games begin.
Let’s tackle those two key changes to the source material right out of the gate. Hedda’s insecurities stem for the fact that she isn’t taken seriously for her intellect. And boy is she smart – we see it throughout the story, how she manipulates those around her while also understanding how to play the game within the boys’ club of the university set. But throw in the fact that Hedda is also not white – and DaCosta includes some not-so-thinly veiled barbs directed at the character that stress her otherness in the story – and it creates a much clearer understanding around Hedda’s reluctance to embrace her relationship with Eileen and accept the more conventional marriage to George. Which is where that other major changes comes into play. Queering the story makes Hedda’s actions – or inaction, in the case of Eileen – make more sense. This adaptation is set in 1950s Britain. While queer people existed in public, they certainly weren’t accepted. And queering Eileen – and, by extension, Thea – also makes their actions all the more interesting as well.

In Ibsen’s original play, Eileen’s male counterpart is a sad sack who frets that the world will never know his brilliance. In DaCosta’s piece, Eileen is a woman who knows she’s smart. Knows she deserves to have the same power and prestige as the lesser men she sees around her (George included). But she also knows that by nature of being a woman – and an openly lesbian one at that – she’s already destined to have to claw her way to get even half of what the lesser men around her achieve. Paired with Thea, a younger woman who leaves her husband to write and live with Eileen – eschewing the safety and security of married life to chase her dream – this duo are (at least on the outside) everything Hedda is scared to grasp. So, when she becomes jealous that Eileen isn’t falling for her advances, we can clearly see and understand just what is keeping Hedda from being brave enough to chase what she really wants.
The character of Hedda is an enigma on the page – which is what makes the role such a sought after one. And Thompson’s portrayal works so well largely because she tries to keep her Hedda buttoned up as long as possible. Watching each crack in her carefully structured façade lets us see just what is pushing Hedda closer and closer to breaking. It’s not an easy thing to do. Hedda is a character who exudes life, so keeping her real emotions tied tight and only loosening that knot bit by bit takes a great deal of patience. It’s here that DaCosta’s direction flows perfectly alongside Thompson’s work. Watch the film and you’ll see a number of shots through mirrors. Each time a mirror is used, Hedda is there – seeing herself in the reflection or watching someone she is trying to better understand. Thea undressing in an armoire mirror. Hedda surveying the crowd from a mirror over the fireplace. Reflections are a constant in Hedda’s world – especially her never really wanting to see herself as she is to her trying to break apart those she wishes to shatter for her own gain.
But if there’s a beating heart of the film, it comes from Moss’ work as Eileen. In the cat and mouse game crafted by Hedda in the story, Eileen is the mouse. The person Hedda desperately wants to possess, to break. The toy she thinks should be hers. But when Eileen arrives, sober, focused, happy, that’s the moment that Hedda finally sees her own reflection and the cracks start to form in her own sense of self. Watching Moss take hit after hit as Eileen loses more and more of herself in Hedda’s heady orbit, you understand the tragedy that is unfolding. But Moss doesn’t make Eileen weak. No, she fights. She tries desperately to keep her head above water. And Moss is able to let all of that vulnerability, that pain, that desire bleed out of every pore. It’s the opposite performance to Thompson’s and the combination of the two make Hedda soar.
DaCosta makes a few more changes to the source material that I won’t spoil here, but I will say that I was particularly impressed with how those changes made me enjoy the story, the performances, and the ending even more than I anticipated I would. If you’re looking to see some stunning work that places a trio of women at the center of a complex and layered story about love, loss, and manipulation, this is a heck of a film to watch. Oh, and in case you’re wondering: Yes, this Hedda does still like to play with guns and you best believe some go off before the film is done.
Hedda premieres in select cities on October 22. It streams on Prime Video on October 29. This film was screened at the Chicago International Film Festival.
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