At one point in “Hedda Gabler,” Hedda (Katie Holmes) says: The most romantic thing we can do is destroy. It’s not throwaway comment.
The story begins with Hedda and her new husband George Tesman (Charlie Barnett) entering their “dream” home after a six-month honeymoon. They are greeted by George’s Aunt Julie Tesman (Saidah Arrika Ekulona) who is well-meaning but a bit out of her element with Hedda.
From the moment the newlyweds enter, Hedda is at loose ends. She can’t seem to sit still or control her innate rudeness. Aunt Julie soon retreats. George is both doting and distracted. He wants Hedda to be happy, but he’s more focused on his academic research. He spent much of their honeymoon gathering data on medieval domestic craft industries for a book he intends to write, eventually. He is kind, enthusiastic and incredibly dull.
These initial interactions lay out the life Hedda has in store: boring, restrictive, beset by societal and familial intrusions. Limiting in every way. While this world seems to revolve around her – friends, relatives and staff walk on eggshells – even the attention isn’t enough. She revolts through cruelty – to her husband, her aunt, Berte (Katie MacNichol) the housekeeper. Even compliments have sharp edges.
This domestic misery is interrupted by news that Ejlert Lövborg (Alexander Hurt) is in town. Lövborg and George have a history as friends and competitors. Lövborg and Hedda also have a history. Lövborg has apparently overcome alcoholism to publish a book (well ahead of George) and vie for a professorship George felt certain was already his.
Hedda is a demanding character: charming and repulsive; affectionate and malicious. At times, it’s hard to tell if she’s mentally ill or simply wasn’t raised right. Holmes leans into the ambiguity, often poised between being interesting and monstrous. Hurt goes toe-to-toe as the sensitive Lövborg. He is strong in some contexts, less so in others.
One of the show’s stars is the readapted script by Erin Cressida Wilson, which contemporizes the story just enough, and Edelstein does a masterful job directing. The set is wonderfully sparse, dark and foreboding, a readymade site for a horror movie. The tension is supported by an onstage piano (played discordantly by Korrie Yamaoka).
“Hedda Gabler” helped create modern drama – squint a little and you’ll see George and Martha – so once original tropes are now well-worn. Still, the shocking moments are indeed shocking. The story may not always be pleasant, but it is well worth the discomfort.
