Ivo van Hove's Juicy Gimmick Reveals Too Much

The New York Theatre Workshop’s production of Henrik
Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler is like a kindergarten class
show-and-tell—except it’s all show and no tell. Nothing
is left to the imagination in this new production by Flemish
director Ivo van Hove..

The complex characters of Ibsen’s masterpiece are reduced
to tattered shreds of their former selves, and their internal
conflicts need not be guessed—they are made obvious by the
furious screams and wild motions the characters make when angry,
and the sobs and sighs that emanate when they are upset. There is
none of the smoldering fury present in Ibsen’s
original—van Hove directs solely over-the-top anger.

Radical changes were made to almost every aspect of the
play—the characterizations, the scenery, and the overall
atmosphere—but the most disheartening element is how the
original characters were butchered.

Elizabeth Marvel’s Hedda is not exempt from this massacre.
Hedda is so intriguing in Ibsen’s original because of the way
she manipulates and destroys the lives of those around her. In this
play, that sense of danger is re-centered around ruining her
physical surroundings. There is a particularly odd part in the play
where Hedda begins to throw flowers and their containers all about
the stage The audience is made to understand that Hedda Gabler is a
destructive woman, yet the original manages to obtain the same
effect, without the decimation of flora. Although Marvel conveys
some of the furious passion that the original character embodies,
her portrayal stops short when it relies too heavily on
demonstrating this anger. Hedda Gabler should be an emotional
volcano, volatile and always on the verge of eruption—not
constantly erupting.

The character of Thea Elvsted (Ana Reeder), a meek woman who is
helplessly in love with Eilert Lovborg, (Glenn Fitzgerald), is
another example where the radical departure from original character
does not work. Reeder’s Thea rarely stops screaming, and
launches into a series of countless tirades that have neither
motivation nor place in the play. Thea almost rivals Hedda in her
explosiveness, detracting from the impact of Hedda’s
character; Hedda Gabler should stand in a world apart from the
other more reserved characters, not compete with them.

George Tesman (the creative Jason Butler Harner) is changed from
a rather sweet, bumbling professor to one who is at once more wise
and more immature. He is continually in a childish state, playing
with his feet as though he were discovering them for the first
time, ecstatically opening a gift from his aunt as if it were
Christmas morning, and holding on to his pathetic house-slippers as
though they were a valued plaything or security blanket. This
portrayal does, however, bring out an interesting aspect of
Tesman’s nature that is implied in Ibsen’s
original—Tesman’s intrinsic naivete.

Judge Brack’s (John Douglas Thompson) illicit affair with
Hedda has been turned into an abusive relationship—one that
pushes the limits of human decency while somehow managing to be
incredibly absurd. He slams Hedda into walls, grips her about the
arms, and, in one scene, spits V8 juice in her face, pours it all
over her, and forces her to kneel with her face down in it. The
extreme nature of Judge Brack’s actions is unfounded in the
text, and, indeed, the original manages to convey the intense power
that Brack wields over Hedda without the use of vegetable
beverage.

Hedda Gabler is not without its merits, however. The most
interesting aspects of the play are the innovative scenery of Jan
Versweyveld, and van Hove’s creative staging. It’s a
shame, though, that these cannot offset the problems created by the
huge departure from the essence of the original. As a result, we
are robbed of the chance to imagine Hedda Gabler’s plight for
ourselves.