Buffalo Theater: Play feels clear without resigning Hedda’s actions to mystery or enigma.

By Bella Poynton
(Photos by Olivia D’Amato @oliviadamato_statelyphotos)

Henrik Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler, originally written in 1890, is often cited as one of the clearest examples of theatrical Realism at its height.

Ibsen himself is surely one of the most loved and studied of all Western playwrights in the canon besides Shakespeare, and sometimes I am shocked he is not produced with more regularity.

By the time he wrote Hedda Gabler, Ibsen had fully mastered the form. While his earlier work such as Brand (1865) and Peer Gynt (1867) experimented with Romanticism and verse drama, plays like A Doll’s House (1897) and Ghosts (1881) reveal a writer obsessed with the complex, social and psychological motivations that drive our sometimes-unsettling human behavior. We don’t always know why people do what they do, and sometimes we ourselves don’t even know why we do the things we do. At best, we speculate. And this uncertainty is exactly what makes Hedda Gabler such an enduring and fascinating play.

The Kavinoky Theatre’s production, presented in a new version by Patrick Marber and directed by Fortunato Pezzimenti, approaches the play with clarity and confidence. This is not a hesitant Hedda. She is not flighty. She is decisive. It was thrilling to see a production that embraces Hedda’s difficulties rather than shying away from them, and it kept me on the edge of my seat the whole time.

Kate LoConti Alcocer is remarkable in the title role, giving a sharply defined and deeply engaging performance. Hedda is often described as difficult or unlikable in dramaturgical circles, but here she is strikingly legible, and although we know she has a mean streak, she is somehow affable for long stretches of time! Her actions feel motivated and her impulses are grounded, which shouldn’t be taken for granted. Loconti Alcocer’s Hedda is intelligent, restless, but most of all, profoundly bored. It’s that boredom (an insufficient explanation for her cruelty, in my opinion) that becomes a dangerous, consuming force.

LoConti Alcocer manages to balance Hedda’s more destructive tendencies with moments of vulnerability that draw us closer to her. We understand her when she admits she married Tesman because she felt she was growing old; we understand her frustration at being cornered by Judge Brack; we understand, perhaps most painfully, her regret over what might have been with Løvborg. For me personally, there is also something undeniably compelling in Hedda’s handling of the pistols. They become less a prop and more an extension of her identity—how she expresses her confidence, empowerment and desire for control.

Jordin Levin is fantastic as Tesman. He brings a sweetness and warmth to the part, a character who can sometimes fade into the background of Hedda’s intensity. But Levin is anything but forgettable. He leans into Tesman’s sincerity, playing him as truly kind but also oblivious to a fault. There is an innocence about him that makes Hedda’s manipulation even more painful to watch. Small moments, like his absent-minded smelling of his own slippers and his scholarly enthusiasm come across as endearing as opposed to annoying.

As Judge Brack, Roderick Garr’s performance carries an air of superiority and calculation. His rotten intentions slowly reveal themselves over time with a combination of great directing and actor expertise. Garr navigates the space with a sense of control, allying himself with Hedda before he ultimately (spoilers!) betrays her. Both characters are diabolical — you know the type — pretending to be friends until the perfect moment to wield power over the other.

Arin Dandes gives a thoughtful and measured Thea Elvsted. She’s a clear contrast to Hedda’s unpredictability and volatile behavior. Dandes is one of those rare actors in Buffalo who can do almost anything from playing kids to more non-realistic roles, and everything in between. I always enjoy seeing her on stage. There is a softness to this performance not to be confused with weakness. It highlights a different kind of strength with respect to Hedda’s, rooted in care and creative partnership. Thea’s presence shows us loud and clear what Hedda lacks.

Ben Michael Moran’s Løvborg brings pure intensity to the production. The character is always teetering between control and collapse, trying to live genuinely and moderately somewhere between academic ambition and complete self-destruction. Moran is undeniably likeable in the role, and his weakness around Hedda is perfectly gauged. His scenes with LoConti Alcocer feel charged with electricity; we don’t want them to end!

Ann Emo’s costumes are both effortless and period appropriate. Hedda’s dress, for example, is perfect, drawing an ironic metaphor between her casual cruelty and the childlike femininity of a little girl in a pink dress. Ron Schwartz’s glorious set reinforces a sense of confinement. Hedda hates their house — it’s her prison. The structured yet ornate environment reflects her boredom in a space that is undeniably beautiful but represents utter captivity.

If there is a point of critique, and this is truly very slight, it would be the pacing of the final sequence. The shift from Brack’s threat to Hedda’s shocking resolution moves incredibly quickly. It leaves very little time for the audience to fully absorb the weight of the moment. If one didn’t know the script beforehand, there might be some confusion. The woman sitting beside me gasped at the play’s last moment and offered an exasperated, “that’s the end?” as the lights came up. This is, of course, a challenge embedded in Ibsen’s script itself, but I wonder how the Marber adaptation might allow us just a moment longer to sit with the implications.

Still, this production succeeds all round in what many have struggled to achieve with Hedda Gabler. It makes the play feel clear without resigning Hedda’s actions to mystery or enigma. The strongest aspect of Marber’s adaptation is that it sharpens the motivations, particularly Hedda’s relationship to power. In this version, it’s evident that control over others is the only thing that alleviates her internal emptiness, and to lose that control is unthinkable.

The Kavinoky has long been known for its commitment to thoughtful, often classical work, and this production is no exception. Whether you are encountering Hedda Gabler for the first time or returning to it once again, this is a production that invites you in with confidence and leaves you with far more to consider than you might expect.

The play runs through Saturday, March 21. Tickets are available HERE.

Dr. Bella Poynton is a playwright, dramaturg, actor and theater historian from Buffalo. She teaches at SUNY Oswego.