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Tessa Thompson Shines As a New Hedda

Tessa Thompson Shines As a New Hedda
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Nia DaCosta dispenses with several stage-to-film problems straight away with Hedda, mostly noticeably a feeling of constriction. Writing and directing a movie adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s 1891 play Hedda Gabler, DaCosta feels at once freer and more locked-in than she did on her most recent adaptations, of Candyman (the 2021 sorta-remake) and Marvel superheroes (in The Marvels, an unfairly ill-regarded superhero bomb from 2023, which, among several virtues, had the good sense to foreground its actors’ charm and stay light on its feet while doing so). What might have been a stultifying assignment becomes maybe her most rigorous and technically assured film so far – though not every literary-movie pitfall is ultimately avoidable in the film’s translation from late 19th century Norway to mid-20th England.

The Ibsen play is about a woman, bored in her marriage, who attempts to manipulate an ex-lover and potential competitor in her husband’s profession, and rather than traditionally “opening up” the material with her revisions, DaCosta further compresses it, at least in feel. Technically, Hedda takes place over a timeframe similar to the play’s: Its centerpiece is a lengthy party at the lavish estate of George Tesman (Tom Bateman), husband of Hedda (Tessa Thompson), bookended by scenes from the day of and beginnings of the morning after, less than 24 hours in total. But in keeping with Hedda’s concealed desperation (and with the real-time clock of stage performance), it feels shorter on time, the play’s act breaks reduced to chapter cards (to which the movie appends one more from the play’s four).

Stage-screen comparisons can easily turn reductive, yet it’s hard not to play this game with Hedda because of DaCosta’s bolder changes. Besides swapping Hedda from white to Black, her ex-lover, originally a man, is now Eileen Lovborg (Nina Hoss), who has been working, professionally and romantically, with Thea (Imogen Poots), an old schoolmate of Hedda’s. The couple’s work focuses on a manuscript said to be a masterful follow-up to Eileen’s signature tome, which may increase her chances of a professorship that George and Hedda hope to instead secure for the man of the house; that’s also the reason for the party in the first place. George particularly needs the job to finance their recently purchased estate – a grand gesture of marriage for the luxury-loving Hedda, we learn from their housekeeper (Kathryn Hunter), speaking to workers who are only serving as temporary help for the evening. The couple cannot afford a full staff.

The basic dynamics follow the play, with the class-consciousness and gender politics here supplemented by racial optics and, moreso, the queer lens of Hedda and Eileen’s bond. When Eileen and Thea show up to the party, Hedda mean-girls Thea and flirts (and more) with Eileen. The latter’s presence, in fact, sometimes appears to serve as a lifeline for Hedda, even as she unleashes chaotic behavior upon her. Hedda’s jealousy of Eileen and Thea seems at least partially fueled by the fact that Thea found the courage to leave her husband, while Hedda is recently married into what may be a lifetime of doldrums, if she makes it that long. (She’s wading into water with rocks in her pocket in the very first scene of the film, an obvious extratextual addition.)

Thompson, who has appeared in three of DaCosta’s four features so far, makes a terrific bomb-throwing Hedda, who revels in her own fashion, wit, and provocations even as they cohere together as the product of her misery. It’s a fascinating portrait of seemingly erratic but psychologically consistent behavior, even as Hedda herself doesn’t seem to be thinking clearly enough about her moves to be planning them ahead of time. Her performance makes it feel as if she’s guiding DaCosta’s roving camera by an invisible magnetism; she threatens to subsume her scene partners not through overacting but the sheer electricity of her perpetual motion. She’s also sometimes devilishly funny in her DGAF glory, however temporary.

Thompson is so good, in fact, that it takes a while to realize that some of DaCosta’s script changes are softening Ibsen’s text, rather than expanding or deepening it. There’s still plenty of tragedy in this version of Hedda Gabler; DaCosta clearly takes the material seriously, and is under no obligation to adhere to the details of certain events. There’s an argument to be made, given the shifted time period and various sociological additions, that sticking with Ibsen all the way through would feel substantially more miserable and prescriptive than necessary. Still, there’s just enough hesitation here that downgrades Hedda into more familiar chamber-piece territory. Hedda is DaCosta’s most direct and purposeful adaptation yet, but like her other films, it’s missing some ineffable push past its beginnings into more expressive territory. The process of adaptation feels more confident than the conclusion.

Director: Nia DaCosta
Writer: Nia DaCosta
Stars: Tessa Thompson, Tom Bateman, Nina Hoss, Imogen Poots
Release Date: Oct. 22, 2025 (limited); October 29, 2025 (Prime Video)


Jesse Hassenger is associate movies editor at Paste. He also writes about movies and other pop-culture stuff for a bunch of outlets including A.V. Club, GQ, Decider, the Daily Beast, and SportsAlcohol.com, where offerings include an informal podcast. He also co-hosts the New Flesh, a podcast about horror movies, and wastes time on social media under the handle @rockmarooned.

 
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