Film adaptations of Henrik Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler have mostly kept to their stage roots, many little more than filmed performances overly reliant on the source material. This tradition goes back to the 1920s. At its heart, the story follows Hedda, newly married into a comfortable but uninspiring life, who manipulates the people around her in a desperate attempt to exert control and escape the confines of her role. This spiral leads to betrayal, ruin, and her own downfall. Nia DaCosta’s new version arrives with the intent to strip the story to its core, updating it from a clash between female ambition and the creative freedom afforded to men into a more personal, layered portrait of a woman suffocated by her inability to live her own desires openly, with clear attempts to make its protagonist more empathetic and tragic, though not always succeeding.
Earlier versions often felt static or reverent, the 1975 adaptation especially so, though Glenda Jackson’s turn still earned an Oscar nomination. DaCosta embraces cinematic language instead, showing how a theater piece can be reimagined for film. Sean Bobbitt’s camera glides through rooms like a waltz, and Jacob Schulsinger’s editing gives dialogue a steady pulse, often paralleling conversations with dances that heighten rhythm and tension while keeping the film propulsive. The costumes capture the mid-century setting with striking detail while also revealing much about each character, and Hildur Guðnadóttir’s score adds a rich atmosphere, binding Hedda’s world of elegance and repression together. Impeccably crafted on a technical level, this is one of the most cinematic treatments of Ibsen to date.
Tessa Thompson’s Hedda remains at the center, her manipulative streak clear from the start. She plays her with cold intelligence and surface control, occasionally hinting at tragedy but more often leaning into cruelty and calculation. Much like her work in Westworld, she conveys satisfaction through the smallest shifts of expression, a slight curl of the lips or a glint of amusement when a scheme lands. Hedda has always been a difficult character to balance, and Thompson emphasizes her cruelty far more than her despair, which makes her hard to feel for, even if sympathy was never the point. What she does achieve is a magnetic presence that dominates the story. The supporting cast, by contrast, provides the warmth and tragedy Hedda lacks. Imogen Poots gives Thea sincerity and vulnerability that make her instantly endearing, Nina Hoss makes Eileen both commanding and wounded, and Nicholas Pinnock and Tom Bateman keep the male roles sharp enough to matter. Ross is the standout, embodying a character scarred by old wounds and fated to reopen them, her mix of bite and compassion creating the film’s most tragic and memorable presence. At times one wonders if the film might have been even stronger had it fully embraced her perspective as the protagonist.
As it stands, DaCosta’s Hedda may not make the original play feel more compelling at its core, but it makes the most of Ibsen’s material through craft, performance, and atmosphere. The balance between Hedda’s cruelty and her despair is uneven, yet the film thrives on its direction, design, and ensemble, emerging as a fascinating attempt to translate a notoriously difficult play into cinema. It is a film that should be studied by anyone attempting to bring stage classics to the screen, elevated by impeccable craft and a stellar cast that keep it absorbing throughout.
This is part of Reviews On Reels TIFF 2025 Coverage. Due to the hectic rhythm of a film festival, it may be tweaked in the future. Still courtesy of TIFF.
- 1. Sentimental Value
- 2. Hamnet
- 3. Blue Moon
- 4. Sirāt
- 5. The Testament of Ann Lee
- 32. Hedda
- Where to watch
Prime Video
Prime Video
Play trailer
- Original title
- Hedda
- Director
- Nia DaCosta
- Cast
- Tessa Thompson, Nina Hoss, Imogen Poots, Nicholas Pinnock, Tom Bateman, Finbar Lynch, Mirren Mack, Jamael Westman
- Rated
- R
- Screenwriter
- Nia DaCosta
- Composer
- Hildur Guðnadóttir
- Cinematography
- Sean Bobbitt
- Editor
- Jacob Secher Schulsinger
- Country
- Language
- English
- Box office
- 8393
- Streaming (CA)
- Amazon Prime Video