HEDDA GABLER, by Henrik Ibsen, at ACT

Ibsen's "Hedda Gabler" starring René Augesen, is in its final weekend at ACT's Geary Theatre, ending Sunday March 11, but no mind as another theatre company is sure to mount it soon. It is always interesting to compare productions of classic plays. ACT's "Hedda" is presented with a new translation from the Norwegian by Paul Walsh; it is directed by E. T. White. "Hedda" written in 1890, is probably Ibsen's most performed play besides "A Doll's House," which was presented by ACT four years ago, and again, translated by Walsh, and also starred Ms Augesen as Nora.

Basically, "Hedda Gabler" is about what a woman, livng in the Victorian era, must do in order to climb socially. The character of Hedda can be and has been played many ways. White, it seems, wanted Augesen to play her like Bette Davis's Regina in the 1941 film adaptation of Lillian Hellman's "Little Foxes." Augesens's Hedda is totally ruthless with no redeeming qualities, a shame as it doesn't allow us to sympathize. I've seen the esteemed, venerated, Augusen in many productions over the years in all kinds of roles. It's too bad she's constrained to one note in this one. Hedda and Jorgen Tesman (played by understudy Andrew Hurteau the night I was there), newlyweds, having been on honeymoon for six months, return to their new home, bought and furnished, while they were away, with a huge loan from Jorgen's Aunt Juliane (the versatile Sharon Lockwood), which Jorgen will pay back once he receives his professorship. Jorgen is a researcher and writer, who has yet to be published. Hedda married him based on his pending appointment.

Hedda and Jorgen had barely arrived in their new home when Hedda must deal with Jorgen's aunt whose only desire is to see that her nephew is happy and comfortable. She brings flowers, lots of them, to brighten up the newyweds home. Hedda does things right off to clue us in on what kind of woman she is. She knowingly, it turns out, mistakes Aunt Julie's hat for Berte, the maid's (brilliant, acerbic Barbara Oliver) and mocks it, then paying a bouquet of flowers, lying on the piano, no mind, she slides a case containing her dead father's prize pistols on it, shoving the flowers to the floor (throughout the play, she abuses flowers often). Her next visitor is Mrs. Thea Elvsted, a young widow (well-acted by Finnerty Steeves, with a distinctive Jennifer Jones coloration). Thea has left her older mentor, Ejlert Lovborg, a philosopher whose book had just come out. She had sneaked away from him in the middle of the night. They had been living upcountry where she had sat at his side in abject servitude for years, helping him with his book. Lovborg is about to publish his second. Hedda's treatment of Thea is tantamount to that of the most popular cheerleader's in school to a class chump: teasing, taunting, chiding, and insulting, all while caressing Thea's face and playing with her abundant hair (in fact, they had been classmates in grammar school). Hedda responds to Jorgen as so much dirty laundry to be dumped into a bin and forgotten. He is so besotted he can't see her for what she is. Hedda reacts with revulsion to subtle hints that she could be pregnant.

Enter blustery, paunchy Commissioner Brack (Jack Willis), a sleazy politician with eyes for the ladies, especially Hedda. He says, salaciously, that while Jorgen is busy doing research, he wouldn't mind keeping Hedda company; in fact Jorgen is so clueless, he encourages the idea. Things come to a head when Jorgen is told he is in competition with Lovborg for the professorship. Sure the published, brilliant Lovborg will win, Hedda feels she has lost everything. Her hopes dashed, she complains that no one of any social standing will come visit her. She will be shunned. She swans around moaning about how poor she is. Then, tall, handsome, cerebral Lovborg (Stephen Barker Turner) shows up, new manuscript in hand, looking for Thea, who has gone upstairs to rest. He and Hedda, who had been lovers till she threw him over for more promising game (Jorgen) reminisce about the past. and bemoan the situation they're stuck in now - - he having lost both Hedda and Thea; she, well, everything. Truths are outed. There are hints that Lovborg is an alcoholic. Amidst the sturm and drang (except for head-in-the air Jorgen), Brack announces he's having a party at the club and pressures the men to join him, leaving the women behind. Hedda then displays overt acts of seduction to Thea, once the men are gone, which raises questions. However, during Victorian times, woman often were demonstrative in their affection for one another. Yet Hedda, it is clear, loves no one but herself.

Things come to a roiling end. Is the manuscript lost? Did Lovborg die of self-inflicted gunshot wounds by the very pistol Hedda had given him? But, nevermind. Thea and now Jorgen find they have much work to do together, and hop to it immediately, which leaves Hedda out of the picture entirely. She lets them know how this affects her, allowing her no out but . . . . What an insult to Commissioner Brack!

The set of the Tesman home is gorgeous. Designed by Kent Dorsey, using Victorian furnishings and arches, he also made great use of thin bamboo curtains as both a room divider and scrim, all beautifully coordinated with lighting by Alexander V. Nichols. John Gromada scored the original music and sound. My only complaint was the employment of scaffolding and catwalks behind and above the set through which, on opening curtain, a monstrous glacier gleamed (Ibsen's plays most always feature a glacier). From time to time the characters would appear above the set on the catwalks before their entrances, which I found distracting. All in all, the play moves along and keeps us engaged due to the excellent cast, the script enhanced by Walsh's punched up translation, and White's dynamic direction.