Henrik Ibsen’s classic play Hedda Gabler receives a sexy, sharp, and sumptuous update in HEDDA, written and directed by Nia DeCosta, and led by an enthralling Tessa Thompson.
From the opening scene, it’s clear this version of Hedda Gabler will be different. If you know the play, as my theater-trained wife does like the back of her hand, instantly eyebrows will be raised in “oh that’s a change.” (I’ve read it and seen the Ruth Wilson National Theater version, but my memory is vague.) This is not a demerit, just a note: Nia DaCosta’s adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s 1891 play is sumptuous, engaging, and a beautiful whirlwind of character and chaos, biting writing, gorgeously shot, and held up by a fantastic performance by Tessa Thompson as the titular character.
It’s the night of a welcoming party for the recently married George and Hedda Tesman (Gabler is her maiden name, and the use of it is key to the character and themes). They’ve purchased a posh mansion, once owned by her father, stretching their assets to the breaking point with the expectations of a professorship offer, provided the night goes well when his colleagues and her friends meet. When a set of her old “friends” arrive, all the assurances go out the window, and her unhappiness stirs further trouble.
DeCosta updated and adapted the text herself, molding it to her desires, and it works with a sharp intelligence. DeCosta’s script provides a presence and builds additional layers. It’s delightfully darkly witty in unexpected ways, and undeniably, coyly sexy. Set-ups and pay-offs, character moments, and depravities are given a spritly life; it’s wicked. There’s a quality of Emerald Fennell’s Saltburn to her take on Hedda Gabler, and I’m here for it. In her hands, subtext becomes direct text, but in a good way, allowing all to move around in the more open space for the wicked games. Decosta, in writing and direction, moves and balances through the myriad of settings and people with ease, a balance of art and acting.
The most telling and important update finds Eilort Luvborg, the former colleague and lover, becoming Eileen. For a play already speaking to gender expecations and what comes of it, George’s rival for the job, and Hedda’s previous affections, is given a massive boost in discussion of gender politics, professional and personal mysongony, and reducing of women as sex objects first; and also creates more unease for the unsure George on Hedda’s past and the party guests on the taboo of lesbian relationships of the time and place (a sort of 1950s/60s academic upperclass).
In 2021’s Candyman legacy sequel, DeCosta showed an incredible sense of visual stylings, building up an already great film to a higher level. She does so again for Hedda. DeCosta creates a lush palette in the sprawling manse of the increasingly hedonistic party of Hedda’s making. Her continually moving camera is as busy as Cara Bower’s perfect production design and Stella Fox’s set direction as it sweeps through the overly opulent location, continually unfooting the audience. This incredible sense of camera, working with cinematographer Sean Bobbit, matches the off-kilter world, where personalties are seconds away from clashing, of secrets bursting to be revealed, and insecurities come to life. In addition to the movement, there’s a slight fish-eye to the lens; a stretching and blurring, reflecting the mindset of Hedda and her guests. 
Tessa Thompson is brilliant. Hedda is unhappy, bored, and miserable. And everyone else will suffer for it. In Act II (the film is broken into act title cards), someone states, “Hedda’s going to cause trouble”. And she does. Thompons bites into the meaty role with a tinged glee. It’s delightfully sinful watching her sew seeds of discord among the guests. To what end, the whys and hows. She has incredible chemistry with everyone she comes across, and DeCosta’s camera. She’s enthralling to watch.
Outside of Thompson, DeCosta has gathered a pitch-perfect cast. Imogen Poots is great as Thea, Luvborg’s current lover, unsure and three seconds away from breaking. DeCosta gives her more to work with, less of an empty-headed doormat and more of a kind, caring foil for Hedda. Matching Thompson toe-to-toe is Nina Hoss as Dr. Luvborg; a firebrand performance, commanding the attention that Thompson’s Hedda is desperate for, their waltz is brilliantly realized.
Nia DeCosta’s update to Hedda Gabler is a fantastic, fascinating film, continuing with the needs of an unhappy wife’s grasp of all the power she can but expanding to a queer/feminist-expectations narrative in a brilliant push. Thompson sets up another banger of a performance, and DeCosta writes and directs with a beautiful aplomb. Check it out on Amazon Prime.