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Mon: Hey everyone! Welcome to this final special episode from the Toronto International Film Festival 2025. I’m Mon and today, I’m reviewing Hedda. 

Ron: Before we start our episode, we would like to acknowledge that the land we are recording on is the traditional territory of many nations, including the Mississaugas of the Credit, the Anishnabeg, the Chippewa, the Haudenosaunee and the Wendat peoples. It is now home to many diverse First Nations, Inuit and Métis peoples. We also acknowledge that Toronto is covered by Treaty 13 with the Mississaugas of the Credit.

Mon: While we are making this land acknowledgement, we understand that this is not enough and that positive action is required by the people of Canada to make substantive change for the Indigenous nations and communities whose lands we now reside on.

Mon: So, what is Hedda about? It’s based on the Henrik Ibsen play Hedda Gabler. The story follows a woman, Hedda, played by Tessa Thompson. Hedda is newly married to George Tesman (Tom Bateman). He’s an academic — intense, puritanical. His wife is the powerhouse here, making sure they (rather she) has a big house and the facade that she can afford to throw large and fancy parties. 

But the truth is, the Tesmans are short on funds, and a lot hinges on George getting tenure with a professor. Said professor will be at Hedda’s party. She just needs to win him over. 

However, to throw a spanner in the works, a rival emerges. Dr Eileen Lovborg (played by Nina Hoss) has history with Hedda and is vying for the same academic position as George. Let’s just say, things really hit the fan when the party starts. It’s an event that’s memorable, explosive, and for some of the characters, life-changing. 

Mon: I’ll admit I’m not familiar with the play, so I wasn’t sure what we were in for. However, Nia DaCosta is a fascinating writer and director. I haven’t seen much of her work, but I loved The Marvels. Also, I didn’t need a reason to go watch a female creator’s work at TIFF. 

DaCosta so easily makes the story unique — her lead is a biracial woman, and there are smatterings of people of colour at the party. Not only that, but Eileen was a man in the play, and turning her into a woman completely changed the dynamic of the story. And I mean this in the best way possible. 

I know I can’t spoil it, so let’s just say, the story becomes a much more high-stakes and layered portrayal of women in the past existing within the confines of social norms. 

Once I figured out what the undercurrents of the character dynamics were, I was stunned (in a good way) by the writing choices made.

The characters are really fascinating. None of them are perfect. Hedda is particularly unlikable, and that’s because she is a woman constrained by society. Eileen, on the other hand, has her demons she’s attempting to overcome. Then there’s Hedda’s former classmate, who is also Eileen’s writing partner, Thea (Imogen Poots). She is probably the nicest character in the film, but she too has her downsides. We round out the main layers with George, who is so frustratingly inert that that is his whole personality. And then there’s Judge Brack (Nicholas Pinnock) — is he a guardian angel or someone with ulterior motives?

Not only do the characters reel you in and keep you riveted, but the cinematography is so glorious, you can’t look away. The house is so amazing to look at. So many rooms, so many people. It’s bustling and crowded. Fabulous. 

Mon: I was stuck in the third row, which we can all agree is the third worst row to watch a film. But despite that, I was able to enjoy the classical look that DaCosta had imbued the film with. This is a period film, and it intentionally looks like the period films we’ve seen before. For far too long, period films erased any and all people of colour, and queer folk. Hedda takes one step towards ensuring that wrong is righted. 

Mon: For the first two to three chapters, I was gobsmacked. I thought to myself, this is what I’ve been missing — a feminist, queer, BIPOC reading of Western art. 

But that high didn’t last long. The last three chapters dragged on too long. Every time we moved away from Hedda, I found the storytelling less compelling. I guess it’s because I needed to understand Hedda more. She’s given very little interiority. Not that we can’t understand her feelings through context clues, but how does she feel about the situations she’s in? 

I really wish the pacing of the last three chapters had been sped up. Or at least had the scenes been interwoven, we could have got the interiority that was missing. 

I will say, because we keep shifting locations within the house, you don’t get that static sense of a play. But that being said, each scene in a room does feel like a mini play. 

Mon: Despite feeling like the second half dragged on, I can’t believe we have something like Hedda. More importantly, I want to see more like this. Having seen Riz Ahmed in Hamlet and now Hedda, I’m more than shocked that western media has denied these diverse and inclusive takes of classic tales. We need so many more of these. Let’s get them. 

And that’s all from us from TIFF 2025. Tune in for our next season, very soon.