Tag Archives: Leanne Best

“The Hills of California” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

With characteristic ambition and skill, playwright Jez Butterworth and director Sam Mendes have, surely, created another hit show. Following their work together on The Ferryman in 2017, this new piece can be regarded as a further meditation on storytelling, love and loyalty. It is grown-up, intelligent theatre that lives long in the mind.

The Hills of California is a family drama with four sisters reunited at their mother’s death bed. It’s a big play, as flashbacks show each woman at a younger age – and in the past we also see their mum, Veronica. Mendes and a talented cast make the action clear, the characters are all wonderful studies and the performances consistently good.

The girls, the Webb Sisters, are drilled as a singing and dancing troupe (think the Beverleys). But only one, Joan, gets a shot at fame in those titular, promised hills. The story behind this chance for success is dark. Butterworth flips effortlessly between ages, showing us dramatic events and their repercussions.

Nicola-Turner-Nancy-Allsop-Lara-McDonnell-Sophia-Ally-in-The-Hills-of-California-credit-Mark-Douet
Nicola Turner, Nancy Allsop, Lara McDonnell and Sophia Ally

There’s Jill and Ruby, timid in their youth, one staying at home and the other settling for a loveless marriage – roles that Helena Wilson and Ophelia Lovibond reveal with skill. Meanwhile, Gloria is bitter from the start, her anger lifelong, leading to a heart-wrenching performance from Leanne Best. And let’s not ignore other cast members who play the girls when they are young – Nancy Allsop, Sophia Ally, Lara Mcdonnell and Nicola Turner – who we see a lot, sound great and complement the leading roles superbly.

This is a fantastic ensemble, but the show belongs to Laura Donnelly, who plays the mother in earlier scenes and then the prodigal Joan. So, we get to see the formidable stage mother and her main victim portrayed by the same performer. The nuance Donnelly brings to both women is a fitting tribute to Butterworth’s script, complete with uncomfortable suggestions about how cold and cruel both are. There’s a danger of Donnelly taking over – at times the show feels like a showcase for her – but she gives not one but two amazing performances.

The setting – Blackpool in the late 1970s – is vividly evoked and provides a lot of humour. An interest in working-class characters is a key part, for me, of what makes Butterworth’s work stand out. And Butterworth manages better than most to get laughs without coming across as patronising. There are problems with the male roles, which are, surprisingly, close to poor. In the past, a sinister talent scout and a down at heel comedian are flat. In the 1970s, there is a better role for Sean Dooley as Gloria’s husband. But all the men make the play feel baggy.

Maybe it’s that the storytelling the men instigate (be it tales of celebrity or how a juke box works) aren’t that interesting. Or that the men don’t sound as good! Songs tell us a lot here – shared aspirations and then family memories – and they are incorporated superbly and with remarkable confidence by Mendes. Putting so much music in the production is a brilliant move. Mrs Webb describes songs as places – they are a source of promise, providing a hopeful heart to the play, and an optimistic conclusion, despite the past.

Until 15 June 2024

www.hillsofcaliforniaplay.com

Photos by Mark Douet

“The Human Voice” at the Gate Theatre

Sarah Beaton’s design for this new version of Jean Cocteau’s play sets the audience outside the action. We view the exterior of a woman’s flat and glimpse her inside; brilliantly conveying the piece’s novel construction and its theme of isolation. For The Human Voice is only half a conversation, a telephone call between two lovers breaking up when we hear only one. And although just half of the story is heard, that’s more than equal to making this show a must see.

Just how we hear the one-sided story is the production’s next smart move. Headphones are worn throughout by each audience member. Masterminded by Mike Winship, there’s a creepy quality to the technology. Simultaneously increasing intimacy, it also distances us: we can hear every breath, including recollections of the couple’s closest moments. But is this a crossed line we’re eavesdropping on? Or are we the person on the other end of the line being spoken to?

So far, so clever. Underneath these flashy touches is solid work on the text and direction – both from Daniel Raggett. A whole play with Cocteau’s concept, even if only an hour long, must pose peculiar problems, far more than a regular monologue, for its solo star. Tension is the key, a note taken by the performer Leanne Best, who plunges us into her character’s anxiety with frightening efficiency. When the call becomes interrupted, her panic is contagious. As lies and truths fall over one another, Best never loses her grip.

Raggett takes care not to overstress any modern updating to this 1930 play – he doesn’t need to, we’re surely all aware of our reliance on our phones – a temptation many theatre makers would fall for. To see the complications of the “invisible line” that the technology creates in such detail is salutary. To make a drama of such intensity, so full of forensic insight and fundamental truths, is exciting. High quality work all around – pick up your phone and book a ticket.

Until 6 October 2018

www.gatetheatre.co.uk

Photo by Ikin Yum