Theatre Review by Ron Fassler . . .
If you like a play that starts slowly and takes its time setting up characters and the world in which they live, then builds inexorably to a quietly devastating finish, then The Hills of California is for you. If you lack the patience it takes to get there (this one clocks in at 2 hours and 45 minutes) and you like things wrapped up in a tight little bow before the curtain falls, you might be better off staying home. Even for someone who has seen previous works by Jez Butterworth that have transferred from the West End to Broadway like Mark Rylance’s tour de force in Jerusalem (2011), or Hugh Jackman in The River (2014), or The Ferryman (2018), you may not be prepared for the quiet time Hills takes to get the job done. But if you go with the flow and luxuriate in the language and the intensity of its beautiful ensemble—happily, as many as ten players in key roles have been brought over from England—there are rich rewards that last far beyond exiting the theater and settling into the comfort of your own bed. Butterworth’s characters rarely rest easy; they toss and turn in the night and bear deep psychological wounds that can be overwhelming at times. Once again collaborating with the brilliant Sem Mendes as his director (both shared Tony Awards for The Ferryman), Butterworth has created the kind of drama that make going to the theatre worthwhile.
It’s not the most original of stories; a family drama of secrets and lies, crushed ambitions and warring siblings, but feels fresh by its raw truthfulness. The four sisters it depicts appear as if they are indeed sisters by the actors who play them as teenagers and adults (all eight actresses have been imported from its original London cast that opened this past February). The flashbacks allow us to see the scars of trauma as they are forming that later seep into their souls. And, due to Mendes’s marvelous work with the actors, we get performances that are lived-in and achingly portrayed. Laura Donnelly—life partner to Butterworth—excels in a role written for her, working wonders as the girls’ mother, Veronica, in its flashback sequences. Iron-willed, formidable, and willing to do anything it takes to get out of a life that is nothing but a sheer grind, she brings to mind Rose in Gypsy, described by playwright Arthur Laurents as “a frontier woman without a frontier.”
We never see the older version of Veronica as, when the play begins, she is upstairs dying. Three of her four daughters are gathered in the dilapidated seaside hotel she has run for years. Jill (Helena Wilson), is the unmarried one who’s been trapped taking care of Veronica and has never left the building. Visiting their old home with their husbands are Ruby (Ophelia Lovibond), anxious and world-weary at the same time, and Gloria (Leanne Best), volatile and angry. There are other characters in and out—traffic is a constant—but it is these core women who are the heart of the play.
Veronica’s course of action to alleviate a life of struggle is by gaining access to the world of show business, creating an act for her daughters that mimic The Andrews Sisters; believing that with four they are that much better prepared if anything were to happen to one of them once they become famous (Maxine, Patty and LaVerne broke up a few years before the start of the action of the play, which begins in 1955). Of course, the fact that their music is no longer in style hasn’t factored into her plan. Act One, which is a long introduction to the characters, their situation, and their inter-personal relationships, closes with the news of a big audition. Act Two is the audition in the kitchen of the hotel for an American talent agent (David Wilson Barnes) who serves as the catalyst that breaks up the family. Act Three is the arrival of Joan, the eldest sister, who hasn’t been home in twenty years. That she is played by Laura Donnelly becomes the most thrilling casting possibly imaginable. Unless paying close attention at the curtain call, I’m sure there are many people who will go home and not realize she is the same actress that plays Veronica.
It’s hard to single out any of the other women mentioned besides Donnelly for special attention as they are all equally splendid, as are the four young women cast as their younger selves (Nancy Allsop, Sophia Ally, Lara McDonnell, and Nicola Turner). Special shout out to David Wilson Barnes, a wonderful actor, for capturing a character that could easily have been played one-note. The set and costume design by Rob Howell (who won a pair of Tonys in these categories for The Ferryman) does his usual first rate work here. There is moodily effective lighting from Natasha Chivers and the musical arrangements for the singing by Candida Caldicot are a standout.
Having seen the London production in May, I was shocked that the ending had been changed. Spoilers prevent my mentioning what is different, but I love the fact that Butterworth and Mendes, in spite of excellent reviews there, didn’t think their work was finished. Artists of this caliber are to be applauded and supported. See The Hills of California, a family drama of exquisite attention to detail that packs a wallop.
The Hills of California is at the Broadhurst Theatre, 235 W. 44th Street, NYC. Its limited engagement is scheduled through December 22. For ticket information, please visit: https://thehillsofcalifornia.com.
Photos by Joan Marcus.
Headline photo: Nancy Allsop, Nicola Turner, Sophia Ally, Lara McDonnell in The Hills of California.
