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Jodi and I review The Hills of California by Jez Butterworth, currently playing at the Harold Pinter theatre in London’s West End, directed by Sam Mendes.
Do not be misled by the title; we are not in sunny California, but in the back streets of Blackpool, where four daughters come together to say goodbye to their dying mother. The play is a portrait of lost dreams, of deeply ingrained patterns of love and hurt within a family, and of suppressed and mutable memories.
A new Jez Butterworth play is a theatrical event. Does it live up to our high expectations?
Jodi and I review The Hills of California by Jez Butterworth, currently playing at the Harold Pinter theatre in London’s West End, directed by Sam Mendes.
Do not be misled by the title; we are not in sunny California, but in the back streets of Blackpool, where four daughters come together to say goodbye to their dying mother. The play is a portrait of lost dreams, of deeply ingrained patterns of love and hurt within a family, and of suppressed and mutable memories.
A new Jez Butterworth play is a theatrical event. Does it live up to our high expectations?