Nia DaCosta has taken Henrik Ibsen’s 1890 play and given it new life in 1950s England, creating something that feels both timeless and startlingly fresh. You don’t need to know anything about the original Hedda Gabler to enjoy this film. Like Clueless or Bridget Jones’s Diary before it, Hedda works entirely on its own terms while possibly sparking curiosity about its theatrical roots.

When Brilliance Meets Boredom

The entire film takes place during one increasingly chaotic party at a gorgeous country estate. Tessa Thompson’s Hedda and her academic husband George are supposedly celebrating their return from a six-month honeymoon, but Hedda has other plans. She needs George to secure a promotion to get them out of debt, but simple financial scheming isn’t enough for someone as dangerously intelligent as Hedda.

Thompson embodies a woman who’s been perfectly described as “catastrophically bored.” She’s sharp enough to see exactly how trapped she is by societal expectations, yet instead of breaking free, she turns that brilliance toward destruction. There’s a glint in her eye that tells you she knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s enjoying every moment of the chaos she creates.

Things get personal when Eileen Lovborg arrives. She’s Hedda’s former lover, now sober and thriving, who happens to be competing with George for the same academic position. Nina Hoss brings extraordinary depth to Eileen, portraying someone who’s fought her way into an exclusive academic world despite being a woman in a profession dominated by men. She’s also openly queer and has overcome years of destructive drinking. In other words, she’s everything Hedda secretly wants to be but doesn’t have the courage to become.

A Visual Feast With Substance

Cinematographer Sean Bobbitt and DaCosta create a world that’s both elegant and suffocating. The camera glides through rooms like another party guest, catching intimate conversations and watching schemes unfold. The 1950s setting works beautifully, capturing an era when societal rules were rigid but beginning to crack, when brilliant women were expected to smile and serve drinks rather than pursue their own ambitions.

What makes Thompson’s performance so captivating is that she never tries to make Hedda likable. You understand her frustration—the military father who shaped her, the loveless marriage she endures, the intellectual gifts that have no outlet. But Thompson doesn’t ask you to excuse any of it. Hedda chooses cruelty because she’s bored and because destroying others temporarily distracts from her own misery.

The Hoss Factor

Nina Hoss deserves far more recognition in American cinema than she gets. As Eileen, she’s wise enough to know that Hedda spells trouble, yet she can’t completely resist their shared history. When Hedda starts manipulating her, Hoss portrays the descent with heartbreaking subtlety. There’s no theatrical melodrama here, just the painful authenticity of watching someone’s hard-won sobriety crumble under pressure.

One scene in particular showcases both actors at their best. Hedda orchestrates a moment of public humiliation for Eileen that’s so cruel it’s almost difficult to watch. Hoss doesn’t overplay it, which makes it even more devastating. When she’s on screen, the film crackles with energy. Honestly, the movie loses some steam when she exits, but by then we’re close to the end anyway.

The chemistry between Thompson and Hoss is electric. These are two actors working at the peak of their abilities, creating characters who feel real despite the heightened circumstances. You believe their history together, you believe the attraction and the toxicity, and you believe that a single evening could unravel everything.

Why It Works

DaCosta understands that adapting classics isn’t about changing costumes and calling it a day. She’s identified what makes Hedda Gabler eternally relevant: wasted potential, the damage caused by societal constraints, and how intelligent people sometimes choose destruction over vulnerability. The 1950s setting amplifies these themes while adding new dimensions around gender, sexuality, and class.

The film hits theaters this week before landing on Prime Video just seven days later, which seems like a waste given how gorgeous it looks on a big screen. Some critics have compared it to Saltburn, which feels misguided—this is a far more sophisticated film.

At 107 minutes, Hedda moves quickly, driven by mounting tension and the sense that disaster is always one conversation away. It trusts audiences to appreciate complexity without needing heroes or villains, just flawed people making choices. Thompson and Hoss make you believe in a world where academic politics are life-or-death stakes and the most dangerous weapon isn’t the gun that appears but the brilliant mind wielding it.

Whether you catch it in theaters or at home, DaCosta has created something special—a smart, visually stunning film anchored by two performances that remind you what great acting looks like.