A Woman in Red: Hedda

Hedda Gabler is a woman of many words, most of which is intended to serve her self righteous purposes. Hedda, a film named after our titular protagonist, portrayed by the vulnerable and incomparable Tessa Thompson, whisks us away in a lavish joyride. 

Directed by the American filmmaker, Nia DaCosta, the film, which is an adaption of the 1891 tragedy play, Hedda Gabler, written by the Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, makes a daring attempt to stir the story in a refreshed direction. 

DaCosta, one of the few promising Black women who have recently trailblazed within the creative space of filmmaking, is known for her work directing episodes of the gritty British crime drama, Top Boy (2018), as well as her debut film, Little Woods (2018), which also stars Tessa Thompson alongside Lily James. 

DaCosta has a special penchant for capturing the raw, unfiltered realities of the human experience, and in the case of Hedda, grants us the courtesy to experience a life through the veneer of imagined perfection. Thompson’s portrayal as the title character flaunts herself with an air of prestige combined with illusiveness. 

Off the dome, we aren’t necessarily presented with a concrete idea as to what Hedda wants exactly. That is until, the extravagant party she is shown preparing for at the beginning of the film unravels, pulling back the curtains as Hedda concocts a delicious evening for us to observe. She is the queen of her own private kingdom.

 The version of Hedda we are initially introduced to is in actuality an individual who holds way more power than the audience realizes. Thompson’s portrayal of the seemingly wealthy, esteemed Norwegian woman is rather enigmatic. 

Thompson transforms into a chameleon, blending into her environment at will, though never ceases to command attention and control. She is the type of expected image of femininity who has a peculiar penchant for firearms, and yet is also hard to read once digested. 

It appears as though Hedda’s life is flawlessly picturesque: being married to a well to do academic, George Tesman, and residing in a wealthy estate in a remote countryside. Hedda – without a shred of a doubt – has it all, despite being the bastard daughter of a Norwegian general. 

Based on the original playwright, which subsequently takes place in Oslo, Norway, the story in this film contrasts from the play, taking place in England during the mid 1950s. This is important, as Thompson, who is a Black woman, thus subverts the expected physical depiction of the lead role. 

The film also gender swaps the character of the professor Eilert Lovberg to “Eileen” Lovberg, exploring queer romance and relationships within the narrative of this tale, which of course couldn’t have been possible within the time period of the original’s release. 

The more we follow Hedda into her journey, which all unfolds over the course of a single night during an extravagant party, each layer we uncover reveals an emotionally torn woman. A woman who – despite being our center of attention – roams amongst the margins, pulling the strings within many of the film’s storylines. 

Hosting the elaborate gathering at her estate alongside her husband, the evening soon begins to gradually take a toll on Hedda, who we see soon begin to struggle with asserting her grip on the ones she once had total influence over. It is revealed that Hedda not only has been unfaithful to her husband, but with the sudden appearance of her former lover and George’s academic rival, Eileen, forbidden emotions – once buried away – now slowly revive.

 From the creative shots DaCosta directs, the scene in which Hedda discovers Eileen’s arrival at her party moves as though Hedda is a magnet being drawn to an orbit. There seems to be an unspoken mistrust between the two ex-lovers rimmed with passion that presumes as the two have a secret exchange of vulnerability in Hedda’s garden. 

The tryst appears to have long past but still left scars that have not been properly tended to, with Eileen calling out Hedda’s confined life, and her one sided devotion to her husband whom she knows she does not love. 

This revelation reaches Hedda through her facade, forcing her to reconcile with the fact Hedda is not genuinely pleased with what her life has become now, with Eileen at one point coldly stating to Hedda that she is a “coward at heart”. 

It is also made unambiguously clear that the bond the two once had no longer lives on, proven when Hedda asks Eileen if she still loves her, which Eileen responds with an aching no. Despite the answer appearing to have tainted Hedda’s ego, the night continues on. 

Soon, Hedda is presented with an opportunity to casually scorn her former lover, after it is also revealed and pieced together by Hedda that Eileen has pursued another secretive relationship with a mutual peer named Thea. A presumed acquaintance of Hedda and colleague of Eileen, the emotionally fragile and vulnerable Thea is thrusted into Hedda’s web of games.

Distasteful of Hedda after she nearly embarrasses Eileen in front of her majority male colleagues (which also includes a moment when Hedda nearly attempts to out Eileen and Thea’s relationship), conflict arises when a now jealous Hedda decides to misplace Eileen’s manuscripts, (which Thea helped co-wrote). 

As the party carries on, the more drama ensues. One of DaCosta’s many other gifts is her gradual approach with the escalation of events. The conflict itself, though not thematically extreme at first, takes intentional steps. 

With the misplacement of Eileen’s manuscripts perpetuated by the sly, resentful Hedda, the night also erupts just as a man discovers his wife engaging in adultery, shooting into a chandelier as he threatens to discover who the mystery man is. 

As the chandelier collapses onto the ground in front of many onlookers, the fire that Hedda had helped ignite soon begins to spread within the already existing tension between her and Eileen. 

Once Hedda’s husband discovers parts of his rival’s manuscripts, which reveals Hedda’s romantic involvement with Eileen which he confronts her about, Hedda is abruptly faced with a turn of events that leaves her former lover at the crossroads of a sudden fatal end. DaCosta’s method in developing the drama within this film is carefully crafted and lush in its narrative. 

Though the pace of the film takes its own time, it never drags out certain plot points to meet unnecessary dead ends. The score, which is simplistic, utilizes the sound of a breath drawing out a desperate exhale once the drama intensifies. 

Every detail within this film is meticulous and thought out, bringing forth a delightful experience that explores forbidden passions riddled with deceptions. Though Hedda is no God-like woman, she is nonetheless an entity of her own in this tale, with a mirror following behind her as she seeps to either toy with or evade the truth when it dares to reveal itself before her. 

Mirrors only stand to show us what is reflected onto ourselves. With lies and emotions being invisible, what else is there to leave a crack in the glass, before it all shatters?