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‘The Hills Of California’ Broadway Review: Jez Butterworth’s Homecoming Tale Of Harmony Long Gone
Deadline's Broadway review of 'The Hills Of California.'
If stardom remained elusive for the beautiful and talented Joan, we can easily imagine what she did, in fact, find in its place: a musical career on the fringes of L.A.’s rock and roll scene of the ’60s and ’70s, perhaps singing backup to real stars here and there, getting gigs on the road, maybe, as rumor has it, sharing in the heroin addictions of her more successful associates. Joan’s big Act III entrance is a doozy: she arrives after the others have gone to bed, bedecked in a long fuzzy-trimmed coat that could be a Stevie Nicks hand-me-down (costumes by Howell, as good as his set), drifting unnoticed into the Seaview with only the broken jukebox taking notice by suddenly springing to life and filling the dead air with the Rollings Stones’ “Gimme Shelter” (what would a Butterworth play be without at least a little hint of spooky magic). And then comes the devil’s bargain: Dismissing the girls from the room, Luther St. John (David Wilson Barnes) the manager of Perry Como no less, offers mom a Sophie’s Choice: Would she allow her eldest, the beautiful, blossoming Joan, to strike out on her own musical road to stardom?
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