Hedda Gabler

Ghislaine/Gabler

19/08/22

Greenside at Riddles Court, Edinburgh

Ghislaine Maxwell is largely defined by her relationships with men: she is Robert’s daughter and Jeffrey’s partner. But who is she now, alone in her prison cell, her father long-gone, her ex-lover also dead? She’s a woman of many parts: convicted sex-trafficker, erstwhile socialite, pampered rich-kid, penniless fighter – and the only person serving any time for the rapes that occurred at Epstein’s ‘parties’. The rapists themselves are either dead or free.

In this challenging piece of theatre, Kristin Winters draws a parallel between the enigmatic Ghislaine and Ibsen’s anti-heroine, Hedda Gabler. The similarities are, in fact, quite astonishing, although I wouldn’t have made the connection by myself. Like Ghislaine, Hedda grows up living in the lap of luxury, and is close to her difficult but rich father – and, like Ghislaine, his death leaves her (relatively) poor. Both women are known by their fathers’ names (Hedda’s married name is Tesman; Ibsen explains the title thus: “My intention in giving it this name was to indicate that Hedda as a personality is to be regarded rather as her father’s daughter than her husband’s wife”). Both women are corrupted by their circumstances, and abuse their power to hurt those weaker than themselves. They each seek to influence other people’s fates; they are hungry and twisted, and it is hard for others to understand what motivates them.

So, yes. The conflation makes perfect sense. And writer/performer Winters’ strange and complex play is as fascinating as the women themselves. It’s an exploration of something unknowable, that raises as many questions as it answers. It’s not an easy watch – and nor should it be. It’s as gnarly and difficult as Maxwell and Gabler, as opaque and unfathomable as their actions. Winters mixes physical and verbatim theatre, lines from Hedda Gabler, imagined internal monologue and dance – and the result is extraordinary. Winters’ intensity is almost unbearably disconcerting.

Perhaps the piece is a little too demanding of its audience: there’s an assumption that we’re au fait with not just the Epstein case (fair enough, that’s common knowledge), but also with Hedda Gabler (I’ve got that one, luckily), and with what happened to Robert Maxwell (in my case, just the ‘media-mogul-financial-misconduct-drowning’ elevator-pitch). I’d like maybe a tad more hand-holding to guide me through some of these details.

This is an intelligent and arresting play and, although I don’t enjoy it exactly, I guess I’m not supposed to. I’m provoked, intrigued, and – in the end – impressed.

4.1 stars

Susan Singfield

Hedda Gabler

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10/04/15

Lyceum, Edinburgh

Edinburgh’s Lyceum is a beautiful Victorian theatre, and a delightful place to visit in its own right; it’s hard to imagine anyone could be unimpressed by the perfectly preserved intricacies of its decor; the sumptuous blues, golds and reds, redolent of old-fashioned luxury. It’s lovely.

If this, along with the choice of an Ibsen piece, suggests a staid, old-fashioned production, then nothing could be further from the truth. This version of Hedda Gabler (adapted by Richard Eyre and directed by Amanda Gaughan) is vivacious and sprightly; as fast and funny as it is heartbreaking and tragic. Nicola Daley, as Hedda, is never less than utterly engaging; she clearly revels in the role, and captures perfectly the awful attractiveness of Hedda’s reckless malevolence. By the end, we feel sorry for Hedda, but we never lose sight of how dangerous she is.

The supporting cast is strong too: I love Sally Edwards’ Aunt Juju – a real Miss Bates of a character – as irritating and vapid as she is charming and kind; Benny Young, as Judge Brack, oozes sly debauchery concealed beneath a layer of respectability so thin that only Juju is taken in. Jade Williams convinces as the outwardly naive – but ultimately hard-headed – Thea, and Jack Tarlton’s swaggering energy makes Loevborg’s wild dissolution a physical, menacing thing.

The set is marvellous too: the light, fresh, open design makes for a queasy juxtaposition with the suffocation Hedda feels in her home, her marriage, her social class. It underscores the point for us that poor George will never be able to give her what she needs; no open window will ever offer enough air.

I loved this play. I can’t fault it. I’m still thinking about the characters twenty-four hours later, contemplating their behaviours and their fates. A fabulous piece of theatre.

5 stars

Susan Singfield