“Dana H.” at The Goodman Theatre

Dana H. is a revolutionary new play directed by Les Waters and written by Lucas Hnath. It is the true story of Hnath’s mother, Dana Higginbotham, who was abducted by an ex-convict who she had met and helped counsel in a psych ward. In this one woman play, Deirdre O’Connell lip-syncs to an interview which was conducted by Steve Cosson at the urging of Lucas Hnath. Hnath then took those recordings to weave a script that tells Dana’s story as she would have told it herself, with endearing jokes and chilling recollections. O’Connell sits on stage and lip-syncs to not only the words, but also recreates movements captured by the audio recording. Those with trepidations to that premise can rest assured that this is not merely a gimmick, but an addition of ingenious artistry to repackage the original voice and source material. 

When the playwright, Hnath, was attending college, Dana met a man named Jim and helped him turn his life around. Dana had a big heart and an endless supply of sympathy working as a chaplain in a hospital, having grown up in a bad household herself. She believed that she could help Jim recreate his life after having been in the Aryan Brotherhood, a Neo-Naz prison gang in the USA that primarily functions for drug trafficking, extortion, and murder. Dana was recently separated from her husband at the time, and the isolated and manipulative Jim saw an opportunity and pounced. He abducted Dana from her home and held her hostage for five months, traveling around the southern states, abusing her, and conducting illegal and appalling actions. Jim, being perhaps a true sociopath, had a knack for weedling his way out of situations with the police and into the good graces of everyone they came across during their on-the-run-odyssey. Even after Dana escaped, her life had been so torn asunder that she didn’t return home for two years. This all occurred in 1997, and the interview was finally conducted in 2015, which is an agonizingly long time for this story to have remained untold. 

Perhaps this added challenge of lip-syncing might have hindered other performers, but it gives O’Connell a chance to shine. Unexpected moments of delight tickle the audience when a jangle of a bracelet caught on audio tape lines up with O’Connell’s movements on stage, or when Dana has to re-start a sentence a couple of times. This turns the words into a sort of dance, with the audience listening to every lip-smack, inhale, exhale, cough, or knee-slap. Director Waters keenly directed the beats in the interview to connect the thoughts through the stammers, the pregnant pauses, and the trailing sentences. O’Connell as Dana is oddly delightful; despite, or maybe because of, the deplorable things that were inflicted upon her, O’Connell still shrugs and laughs at her own bad jokes, using humor not to cope with sadness, but to counter it.  O’Connell presents the true fighter in Dana by plainly speaking of her trauma with a steady voice and countenance. 

This play and production is the next step in theatre. This is how we can truly and authentically give voice to a person who has been silenced. It has been a heinous sin against nature that time has passed without due justice, sympathy, and awareness being given to Dana’s story. But here is the conundrum: only Dana can do it justice. Only her voice can truly give life back to the words describing the memories. But the memories are so horrendous that no one could even dare to ask Dana to tell the story over and over again in public; that would be too much to ask of a woman who has already gone through so much. Here is where theatre and the actor can lend a hand. In this production, the actor ascends to their true purpose, to embody the spirit of a person and be a channel for a story without getting in the way. 

The stage design (Andrew Boyce) was so accurate that before my plus one even cracked open the program, they declared “oh, it looks like a motel in Florida” (where she grew up). Perhaps the stage was wider than it needed to be, because the entirety of it was only used once. Most of the evening was spent with Dana front and center in an armchair. But if anyone deserves a large stage for no reason, it’s Dana. What a challenge it must have been for Mikhail Fiksel (Sound) and Steve Cuiffo (Illusion and Lip Sync Consultant) to tackle considering that essentially the entire play is audio, but they met the challenge and passed with flying colors. There are audible beeps that separate scenes, reminding us that it is a recording, but other than that, with the support of Cuiffo, O’Connell has you hanging off of Dana’s every word. Paul Toben’s light design supplies a thrilling break from the stillness of Dana’s account by transforming the stage into a visual and physical representation of her mental and emotional, festering incarceration. 

There is a detailed description of sexual violence in the script. It is told as poignantly and as considerately as it could be told, but it may be triggering for audience members. But please, don’t let this dissuade you from attending if you think you are up for it. You will probably need a good cry afterwards. But it is a GOOD cry, a cathartic cry. In the interview, Dana speaks about feeling “not of the world” because of having such a dark portion of her life that no one else can relate to, and to a certain extent, we all feel that way. So, how about we all go see Dana H. and end our isolation and separation for one evening by joining her and giving her the justice and sympathy that she didn’t receive.

The show runs 75 minutes with no intermission in the Owen Theatre at the Goodman Theatre (170 N Dearborn St., Chicago, IL). Tickets cost $15-$45 and can be purchased at GoodmanTheatre.org/DanaH, by calling 312.443.3800, or at the box office. Dana H. closes on October 6th. It is recommended by the Goodman Theatre for audience members 16 and older due to dark themes and vivid descriptions of violence. There is one scene which involves strobe lights and jarring audio sound. 

Highly Recommended 

Sophie Vitello