When siblings reunite after years apart, long-buried secrets and conflicting memories are sure to be revealed. Jez Butterworth’s acclaimed new play, The Hills of California, puts an exciting spin on the classic theme of homecoming: The action pivots between 1955, when four teenage sisters in seaside Blackpool, England, harbor dreams of stardom as a singing group, and 1976, when those dreams are long gone and their once-adored mother is dying. Seamlessly directed by Sam Mendes, The Hills of California is headed to the Broadhurst Theatre on September 11 for a limited engagement after its triumphant London premiere.

“‘The Hills of California’ is a song by Johnny Mercer, but it’s also the dream these four young girls share of escape to America,” explains Mendes, who joined Butterworth for a joint interview with Broadway Direct. “America was the promised land for anyone interested in show business in the mid–20th century. The other theme is the ache to be famous — the ache for the glamour and the beauty and the mythic vastness of America. It’s a play about memory, about loss, about family, and about perspective, set in a little boarding house on the backstreets of Blackpool. When Jez told me all that, I immediately said, ‘I’m in.’”

Mendes and Butterworth have forged an incredibly fruitful creative partnership, ranging from the 2015 James Bond movie Spectre to the epic family drama The Ferryman, which won four 2019 Tony Awards, including Best Play and Best Director. They share an easy banter when speaking about The Hills of California, a play Mendes flatly calls “a masterpiece.” Known for writing magnetic, macho characters in plays such as Mojo and Jerusalem, Butterworth has drawn on his experience as the father of four daughters (and as one of four brothers, with a beloved sister who died of cancer a decade ago) in fashioning his time-bending story.

“It’s clear that my plays are starting to obey the law [of] Tennessee Williams, which is that they are metaphorically autobiographical,” Butterworth muses. “I can only write something when I know it’s true, when it feels like a dreamscape where I am the mother upstairs with my daughters meeting at my deathbed.” As for putting words in the mouths of older and younger versions of the four sisters and their ambitious single mom, he says, “It doesn’t feel like a departure, because everyone in my life now is a woman. Those are the voices in my head and in my soul; they’re how my life sounds now, and that’s who I want to write for. I feel like I’m everywhere in this work.”

Chief among Butterworth’s inspirations is his life partner, actress Laura Donnelly, who returns to Broadway in The Hills of California after costarring with Hugh Jackman in Butterworth’s 2014 mystery play The River and giving a Tony-nominated performance in The Ferryman. Donnelly now takes on dual roles as the 1950s-era stage mother and the 1970s version of her favorite daughter, the only one of the four to make it from Blackpool to Los Angeles. As in her previous Broadway appearances, Donnelly brings, as Butterworth puts it, “total honesty and commitment” to characters who are not always entirely sympathetic.

“There’s a purity in Laura’s work,” Mendes observes. “She trusts the play absolutely and never thinks about how her character is going to be perceived by the audience. It would never occur to her to soften a scene or cheat it in any way. And the other actors, who are also super-gifted, pick up on her honesty and simplicity and look at Laura as a kind of beacon.”

Although The Hills of California has dramatic moments aplenty, it is also laugh-out-loud funny, displaying Butterworth’s gift for creating characters with distinct voices who are always trying to get the last word. “Here’s the thing,” the playwright says with a smile. “When I was growing up, there were seven of us in a tiny house, so if you weren’t funny, no one would listen to what you said. You could come in and say, ‘The kitchen is on fire,’ but unless you made it funny, no one would listen. I always thought that plays needed to breathe in and breathe out, and someone’s got to laugh in the next 20 seconds.”

Mendes greatly admires Butterworth’s ability to create drama out of everyday situations, as he masterfully did in The Ferryman, set in Northern Ireland in 1981. “Jez understands the dynamics of a big family,” the director says, adding that The Hills of California “is so alive and so full of grief and longing and beauty and hope. These sisters go out of their way to pretend that the love they have for each other doesn’t exist, but it’s the defining aspect of their personalities.” Mendes expertly handles the play’s musical interludes, culminating in a visit from a talent scout that upends the family dynamic for the next 20 years.

As with Butterworth’s previous plays, the New York company, most of whom created their roles in London, is eager to dig deeper into the text. “I feel that the Broadway version can be even better than it was in London,” Mendes says. “There’s a great deal of excitement to bring it to New York for creative reasons, and also because Broadway audiences are the greatest, most vocal, most electric audiences for plays.”

Nodding in agreement, Butterworth says, “I grew up outside Watford [in rural England], so Broadway represents the most thrilling moments in my life.” Fortunately for theater lovers, he vows that playwriting will remain his focus going forward. “It’s all I care about these days,” he says. “I can’t believe we’re going to Broadway for the fourth time — I would rather do that than win an Academy Award. There’s just something about the theater that I was made for. I’ve been doing it for 30 years, and yet I feel like I’m just getting going.”