In a stately English mansion at some point in the 1950s, Hedda Gabler (Tessa Thompson) is shooting one of her guns. Before his death, her father, General Gabler, left them to her. She keeps the key to the gun box in a chain around her neck, close to her heart.

Hedda is a beautiful young newlywed, trying to make a life with her husband George Tesman (Tom Bateman), who is desperate to impress her and everyone around him. Family friend Judge Brack (Nicholas Pinnock) walks the grounds freely, his eyes always on Hedda whenever George isn’t looking. In the kitchen, Bertie (Kathryn Hunter) and the rest of the servants are preparing for a grand party, all for Hedda’s personal amusement. George warns his mischievous wife to behave, but they both know she’s never done it before, so why would she start now? Hedda thirsts for entertainment of any kind and she uses whatever means available to keep herself amused.

Nia DaCosta’s fourth feature is a playful, sexy reimagining of Henrik Ibsen’s classic 19th-century play Hedda Gabler, moving the action to the 20th century and diversifying its traditionally white characters. It’s been seven years since we’ve been treated to an original vision from DaCosta, who has spent the first half of the decade on established horror and superhero IP. Thompson starred in DaCosta’s debut feature Little Woods, a thoughtful, emotional thriller about two sisters just trying to survive in an expensive, uncaring world. Hedda very much a different mode for DaCosta, unleashing humorous, deeply sexual energy that permeates the entire film.

It’s been a while since Thompson was having this much fun onscreen, playing Hedda with both confidence and poise — she’s a proper lady with a dark side, weaponizing her manners to sow chaos and discord throughout the film. And once her former lover Eileen Lovborg (Nina Hoss) arrives, she sets a devious plan into motion. Jealous of Eileen’s newfound love and partnership with Thea (Imogen Poots), Hedda decides to test their relationship by encouraging Eileen to go back to her old ways. When she and Hedda were together, Eileen was drunk and wild. And though Hedda liked her that way, she ended their relationship in favor of something more stable with George. 

But Hedda loves control, and she can’t accept Thea’s power over her former flame. Thea is everything Hedda is not: kind, loving and patient. The most reckless thing she ever did was begin a relationship with Eileen behind the back of her husband. But even their romance produces a book, something stable and respectable that is sure to get Eileen’s academic career back on track. All she has to do is stay the course and maintain her sobriety, but there’s no chance of that when Hedda is around. George and Eileen are up for the same professorship, and Hedda’s extravagant lifestyle depends on her husband’s success. But that’s obviously not her only motive for messing with the happy couple. And once Eileen starts drinking again, it’s not just her career that is in danger.

Ibsen’s original play is the story of a woman unhappy with her place in life, grasping at any power she can wield over men. Hedda is married to a man who both bores and adores her, but it’s hard to know how she feels about him, if she feels anything at all. Relegated to the uneventful life of a housewife, Hedda rebels with the only weapon she has: her cunning intellect. She resolves to take the fates of the men around her into her own hands; she just wants to make an impact, regardless of the consequences. Hedda manipulates her husband and her former lover, Eilert Lovborg, encouraging the latter to kill himself. And yet, in the end, when another man — Judge Brack — asserts his power over her, Hedda reacts the only way she knows how: by taking her own life with her last ounce of power. For her, and many women in fiction, death is the only means to control one’s life.

But in DaCosta’s film Lovborg is female and the story morphs into queer melodrama, fueled by Hedda’s obvious regret in settling with a boring man instead of the exciting older woman who remains a fixation for her. Hoss is charismatic and funny as Lovborg, who is sexy and intelligent enough to have two younger women desperately in love with her. To men, Eileen is an amusing curiosity, but to Hedda and Thea she is everything.

Poots gives an understated, brilliant performance as Thea, transforming the mousy housewife character of the original play into a quietly powerful woman who sees through her rival’s games even when everyone around her remains oblivious. DaCosta turns Hedda Gabler into a daring showcase for these three actresses, reframing the narrative as the story of women breaking out of the roles men assigned to them in order to explore their desires and utilize their sharp minds. 

The men surrounding these women try and fail to regain control throughout the film, revealing their impotence. Neither George nor Brack knows how to satisfy a woman, so they lean on their patriarchal standing, hoping that’s enough to get them what they want. Unlike the play, the entire narrative of Hedda unfolds throughout the party, complete with hijinks and a chaotic climax that makes great use of the comically large home and sprawling outside property.

Hedda is a delightful, sexy ride made that reminds us that Thompson is a star and DaCosta has many more tricks up her sleeve. It’s good to hear her unique narrative voice again.