A Hedda Gabler An empty wicker birdcage hangs portentously from the rafters in A Hedda Gabler, a new adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s 1891 drama from Red Tape Theatre and local playwright Nigel O’Hearn. The cage is meant to be symbolic of Hedda’s entrapment, her “caged” subservience to men, the “imprisoning” role society demands she play as a woman. More than once, men stare into the cage, lit from above by a hot spotlight, and deliver lines as if Hedda were inside. There’s even a fluttering-wings sound cue for Hedda’s “liberation,” which consists of her shooting herself in the head at center stage. (In Ibsen’s play, she kills herself with a muffled shot, in a rear room, behind a drawn curtain). It’s all too much, a travesty of the original Hedda Gabler, whose protagonist’s lust for life, powers of manipulation, and indomitable will to charm drive the play in any version worth its salt. —Max Maller
[Trans]formation A coproduction of Nothing Without a Company and the Living Canvas, this 90-minute celebration of the diversity of the human body is devised and performed by transgender, genderqueer, intersex, and nonbinary artists. Naked save for a layer of imaginative projections, the performers tell stories as soloists and in groups, with dance interludes in between. The script, choreography, and music could all use some tightening, but at its core this piece’s intimate use of light, shadow, and movement is inspired—and inspiring. At the end of the show, audience members are invited to disrobe and join the performers; several did on the night I attended. As the cast reminds us, “It’s about access to space and personal dignity. Without that, we’re fucked.” —Marissa Oberlander
