It is an amazing performance by Ruth Wilson that stands out from this evening, together with the extraordinary play itself.
It would be fascinating to know what motivated Ibsen to writer this play, portraying very vividly the bored and malevolent Hedda who seems to think nothing of inducing the poor Lovberg back to alcohol, before providing him a pistol to shoot himself and burning his spectacular manuscript.
It is an evening of despair as these events unfold, culminating in Hedda - apparently pregnant - disposing of herself by the second weapon at her disposal.
In many ways and looking back, it is an unsatisfactory play - or at least an unsatisfactory version by Brian Marber. We come to know little of Hedda's past that has led to her being as she is. On the other hand then play portrays well the plight of 20-somethings who end up together because, In Hedda's case it seems like time to settle down and in her husband Tesman's, we presume because of her sexuality, Not that they appear to have a particularly happy sex life.
The set is an extraordinary vast and largely empty white space, punctuated by a video intercom. Obviously, this set is trying to say something to us but I found it a bit irksome after two and a half hours. Also weird things happened, like Hedda destroying a vast number of flowers which lay strewn on the stage with nobody paying the slightest attention to them.
The stage also seemed to absorb the sound so that the lines were at times hard to make out, particularly with an audience that made the Lyttelton seem like a hospital ward.
So overall, I was glad to see this performance and to be aware of the play which captures well a syndrome - but without ever really managing to explain it.
