Good morning, and welcome to Broadway News’ Broadway Review by Brittani Samuel — our overview of reactions, recommendations and information tied to last night’s Broadway opening of “The Hills of California.”
RUNDOWN
When Veronica, a single and ambitious matriarch, asks her four singer-hopeful daughters what a song is, they respond in unison: “A place to be.” A song, Veronica (Laura Donnelly) continues, is “Somewhere you can live. And in that place, there are no walls. No boundaries. No locks. No keys. You can go anywhere.” Well, that’s also what a play can be. Specifically it’s what “The Hills of California” from Jez Butterworth is: a work shaped like a song, with resonant scenes that splay out like verses, familial themes that repeat like choruses, rising tensions and a climactic bridge that pushes its central characters to a state of release.
In the British playwright’s expert hands, the nearly three-hour tragicomedy never feels indulgent; the rich texture of the world Butterworth builds is our payoff. The play follows Veronica and her melodious daughters in 1955 and then later in 1976, from their early days as an aspiring girl group to their estranged reunion by Veronica’s deathbed. Time doesn’t so much jump in “The Hills of California” as it melts back and forth, largely thanks to Rob Howell’s shadowy, atmospheric set design — all moody woods and floating staircases perched on a turntable. Paired with sound designer Nick Powell’s coastal soundscapes, the seaside English resort that the girls run and live in, feels tangible. It feels like “a place to be.” And for Veronica’s girls, it’s a place to train, rebel and sacrifice.
