“The Hills of California” review: Jez Butterworth's latest has more peaks than valleys

A searing family drama set across 21 years.

“Do you remember what it felt like to sing together?”

Unfortunately for Ruby and her three adult sisters, those memories of song have been drowned out by more painful recollections of youth and the splintering of both their family and family singing group. It’s a splintering that is presented in two different decades courtesy of Jez Butterworth’s searing new play, The Hills of California, now playing at Broadway’s Broadhurst Theatre.

The impetus for the sibling gathering in Blackpool, England, is the impending death of their exacting mother Veronica (Laura Donnelly). The imminent passing reunites the once inseparable four sisters: Responsible Jill (Helena Wilson as adult, Nicola Turner as young), who has stayed at Sea View all these years to care for a mother broken in both body and spirit; go-with-the-flow Ruby (Ophelia Lovibond as adult, Sophia Ally as young), a woman who seems well-adjusted enough at first…until the panic attacks kick in; disillusioned Gloria (Leanne Best as adult, Nancy Allsop as young), whose frazzled nature masks a deep pain from childhood; and wild child Joan (the adult version also played by Donnelly, Lara McDonnell as young), who left home years ago for those hills of California and hasn’t been back since.

Adult siblings reuniting around the death of a parent and hashing out unresolved issues from decades prior in the process is well-worn territory on stage, page, and screen. New York has seen two other such shows in the past year alone, with Sarah Paulson starring in Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’ Appropriate at the Hayes Theater, along with the Irish Repertory Theatre’s production of Brian Friel’s Aristocrats. In that sense, The Hills of California struggles a bit to offer a compelling new backdrop to family strife.

But the production sings — slight pun intended — in other ways. The Sam Mendes-directed play begins in 1976 with three of the four adult sisters gathering at the Sea View for their mom’s final days. The Sea View has clearly seen better days. “It was the Sea View Guesthouse,” Jill explains. “Then the Sea View Luxury Guesthouse. Then the Sea View Luxury Guesthouse and Spa. Then the Sea View Luxury Guesthouse, the Seaview Guesthouse, now it’s just Sea View.”

While the Sea View may be past its prime with its tiki bar, slot machine, and on-the-fritz juke box, the rotating set itself by designer Rob Howell is gorgeous, with a three-level staircase hovering overhead that leads to the various guest rooms, giving the space a magical Hogwarts-like feeling.

After first act impressions are made of Jill, Ruby, and Gloria waiting for the enigmatic Joan, we flash back 21 years to see the young foursome under the strict musical tutelage of their fame-obsessed mother. It seems Veronica has gotten it in her mind that the Webb sisters could be the second coming of 1940s superstars and “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” harmonizers the Andrews Sisters, and it soon becomes clear she will stop at nothing until they get their big break, even if that break comes with terrible, traumatizing consequences.

Donnelly is a commanding presence, owning the stage much like her character has ownership over the four startlets-in-waiting. Her Veronica comes off less like a stage-mom-from-hell, and more a loving — if deeply flawed — mother who makes a deeply flawed choice in her pursuit of family fame and the perceived riches that come with it.

The consequences of that choice play out two decades later when oldest daughter Joan finally does return to confront the demons (and sisters) from her past. Donnelly shows her range as the burdened free-spirit focal point who has done everything in her power — including drink and drugs — to move past the issues of her past. (She’s even adopted an American accent, as if that will help wash away traces of her fraught formative years at Sea View.) And the third act crackles with energy as Joan comes face-to-face, literally, with her younger self, while the other sisters react to her arrival. (Joan’s entrance song of “Gimme Shelter” announces the storm to come, and let’s just say not everyone is thrilled to see her.)

The Hills of California does not necessarily venture to any places that dysfunctional family drama has not tread before, but the switching-back-and-forth-between-decades structure — coupled with a commanding and versatile centerpiece performance by Donnelly — still make these hills worth climbing. Grade: B+

Read the original article on Entertainment Weekly.