Dana H.

B

Following LA and Chicago productions, Lucas Hnath’s (A Doll's House, Part 2; Hillary and Clinton, Red Speedo) fact-based one-woman drama has reached New York, where it is now in previews at Vineyard Theatre. In a sense, Hnath did not actually write the play. Almost all the words we hear are those of his mother, Dana Higginbotham, recorded in a series of interviews conducted by Steve Cosson, artistic director of the investigative theater group, The Civilians. Late in 1997 Ms. Higginbotham, a hospital chaplain, was abducted and held in captivity for five months by an ex-patient who was raised in the Aryan Brotherhood. When she suggested that her son write a play about her experience, Hnath resisted for years, fearing that he was too close to the material. Finally he found a way to approach the story: having a disinterested party, Cosson, interview her. Hnath then edited and shaped transcripts of these interviews into the work we see. To preserve his mother’s voice to keep the result authentic, he found an ingenious solution: he cast an actress to lip-sync her words. Since that actress is the magnificent Deirdre O’Connell (Fulfillment Center, By the Water, Circle Mirror Transformation), his solution works brilliantly. What sounds like a stunt turns out to be very effective; without uttering a sound, Ms. O’Connell brilliantly brings Dana’s words to life. Seated in a chair in the middle of Andrew Boyce’s set suggesting a generic motel room like the ones she stayed in during her captivity, O’Connell/Dana H. answers Cosson’s questions, occasionally referring to the dog-eared manuscript in her lap. Her memory is often muddled, but she provides enough harrowing details to make the audience squirm. She raises many issues, including the reluctance of the police to go against a member of the Aryan Brotherhood to help her, the propensity of someone who was physically abused by her parents to think that she deserves the punishment she is getting, the thought that her abductor is the incarnation of her spiritual condition, and the long-term PTSD that the incident left. At one point the interview format is interrupted by a flashy, noisy interlude that I found questionable and unnecessary. The ending provides some uplift as she describes her work as a hospice chaplain easing the transition from life to death. Les Waters (In the Next Room, Big Love) directs with a sure hand. Kudos to the lip-sync consultant Steve Cuiffo. There are many unanswered questions, including how her son, even though away at college, could have been ignorant of her plight for so long a period. While I have some reservations about the play, I was thrilled to witness Deirdre O’Connell’s amazing performance. Running time: 75 minutes, no intermission.