Skuse gives us a Hedda Gabler full of recognisable human beings in a skilful, energetic production suitable for contemporary times.  It is a masterclass in how to treat period classics.
Kate Stratford
4.5 bullet shots


KXT on Broadway
Sydney
18th October – 2nd November 2024


If Ibsen’s Doll’s House gave us the door slam heard around the world, then his Hedda Gabler gave us the gunshot heard around the world.

Secret House is not a prolific theatre company but the work they bring to the stage is all quality over quantity. Their latest offering is Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler at the KXT on Broadway. This is a very intimate space and using a traverse seating, places the audience in the Tesmans’ salon as “flies on the wall”, privy to every nuanced facial expression and gesture.

Director Anthony Skuse has stripped back this play to its essentials (from an original 130 mins to 95 mins) and keeps the play moving at a clipping pace. Of course, this opens up a few questions about various characters’ willingness to confide and share so quickly but whole periods of time are elided so masterfully such musings are tucked away in your mind quite easily.

Hedda herself is a difficult, controversial character. Ibsen named the play Hedda Gabler, not Hedda Tesman, placing emphasis on her identity in her single state rather than her married one. A daughter who enjoyed the freedoms of a son. Trapped by convention in a loveless marriage, she longs for freedom but lacks the courage to live such a life. Her internalized frustration and unhappiness manifests in a series of attempts to destroy the lives of those around her. Ella Prince leans into the aesthete that is Hedda, and up close as we are, we see every spontaneous thought cross Prince’s face. The sniggers and moments of despair may be hidden from other characters but not from us. Prince’s portrayal makes it easier to sympathise with this oh-so-difficult heroine; her yearning and confusion are so artfully played out that we are afforded glimpses into the tortured mind that is Hedda’s.

James Smithers infuses Tesman with a self-awareness which is a welcome characterisation, eschewing the usual bumbling fool approach, this Tesman is simply a nice guy who knows his limitations but does his affectionate best. As his rival – the brilliant writer Ejlert Lövborg  – Jack Angwin  is an exact, erratic counterpoint to the staid, less imaginative scholar that is Tesman.   Angwin’s Lövborg strides, smoulders and lounges in contrast to Smithers’ precise, considered and contained Tesman. 

Thea Elvsted (a gentle but implacable Jane Angharad) is of course, a mirror for Hedda. As conventional as Tesman, she nevertheless has had the courage to leave a shackled life and seek a future of freedom without (like Nora in Doll’s House) fear of scandal or any idea of what the future will look like or how she will live. She is – quietly – the hero Hedda wants to be and her very presence draws out the worst in Hedda.

Hedda may yearn for Lövborg’s passion and settle for the respectability that is Tesman but her real counterpoint is Judge Brack. Christopher Tomkinson’s Brack counters Hedda’s emotional sterility with a suave lack of compassion and lecherous selfishness. They are parallel characters, seeking power over others when they cannot love.  This parallel between them illustrates the double standards of society, which denies rights of self-expression to women. Prince and Tomkinson are a delight to look at together, a physicality and presence which gives expression to the power struggle between them.

In despair and distress, Hedda seeks the “romantic” ending which Lövborg denied her.

A simple set (also James Smithers) makes best use of space whilst also conveying a sense of the newness of the house and the relationship. A clever, quality driven costume design sees us meet Hedda and Jorgen Tesman on the first morning in their new house upon their return from their honeymoon. Hedda frenetically moves around in “male” pyjamas and bare feet, freely receiving visitors in this intimate attire. The later addition of a luscious red brocade dressing gown signals her passion but also the beginnings of submission to conformity, completed in the last act where she is neatly “cabined, cribbed confined” by black bombazine and whalebone corsetry.  This imprisonment is underscored by Suzann James’ Aunt Julianna buttoning Hedda into both gowns. James’ Aunt Ju-Ju is beautifully nuanced, warm and kind and it is easy to see why Tesman would so affectionately see her as a mother figure.

Skuse gives us a Hedda Gabler full of recognisable human beings in a skilful, energetic production suitable for contemporary times.  It is a masterclass in how to treat period classics.

Kate Stratford, Theatre Now