It’s only the start of the new theater season, but it’s fairly certain that Laura Donnelly is giving one of the best performances of the year in The Hills of California, a new play by her partner Jez Butterworth. The two met when Donnelly, now 42, auditioned for Butterworth’s The River. He loosely based his last Broadway play, The Ferryman, in which Donnelly also appeared, on the actress’ Irish family, notably the disappearance of her uncle. In The Hills of California, directed by Sam Mendes, Donnelly plays dual roles. In scenes that take place at a rundown beachside inn in Blackpool in the 1950s, she is Veronica, the overbearing stage mum of four daughters. In scenes in the 1970s, Veronica is on her deathbed and Donnelly plays Joan, the one Webb sister who made it to California and returns under mysterious circumstances, having not spoken to her family in 20 years.
I saw The Hills of California in London, and I thought it was absolutely terrific. Told everyone to go. What’s it like performing dual roles, a mother and a daughter?
It’s a very satisfying challenge to take on. Both characters really informed each other in terms of making them as different and distinct from one another as possible but also figuring out in what ways they should be similar, from physicality and vocal quality to what drives each of them and why. They should reflect each other, since the decisions of the mother, Veronica, get played out in the grown up daughter, Joan. Now that we’re in performance I can put all of that to the back of mind and just enjoy the fact that I get to do something completely different in the last part of the play to the first two acts.
What does it feel like to have someone write a play for you?
It’s a huge privilege and I feel incredibly grateful. It allows me to have a deep understanding of who my characters are and what the story is telling the audience right from the start, and the process feels very organic and effortless. Still, the writing is just so good. I know I would be having a wonderful experience in any of his plays, written with me in mind or not. I don’t usually read anything until he has enough he wants to formally workshop with a bunch of actors. And then my process begins and that doesn’t have a lot to do with him. We don’t cross over a lot.
What kind of impact has this play had on you as a mother, and a mother of daughters?
The main impact is that I’ve seen a lot less of my children in the last year! In terms of the themes of the play, I’m not sure it has. Of course it makes me think about the kind of mother I want to be remembered as, but I was always giving that constant consideration anyway. I’d like to think I’m a very different parent to Veronica in the play. For a while now I’ve believed that the best I could do for my girls is get out of their way and allow them to be exactly who they are. It makes me think more about my relationship with my own mother and with my siblings, and in that regard it has taught me a lot about acceptance and allowing things to be as they are without trying to bend and change people or circumstances.
What did you learn from doing The Ferryman in New York City that you’ll try to apply to doing The Hills?
I’ll try to look for all the ways I can to unwind and switch off from the craziness of the experience. Doing a big, emotional, challenging play on Broadway is beyond exciting but that can also become overwhelming. If I focus on regulating and resetting when I can, I’ll enjoy the experience all the more.
The play is very emotional. How do you come down from a performance?
I usually come home, eat and watch live court trials on TV for a few hours. I’m a natural night owl, so I love the peace of being awake at 2am knowing there’s nothing else I can be doing. I should probably have an herbal tea and do some yoga and meditate, but I guess that’s Imaginary Me. A long soak in a bath at the end of the eight show week does me a lot of good.
Donnelly in The Hills of California
