I usually take notes when I review plays, but I could not risk taking my eyes off Deirdre O’Connell in Lucas Hnath’s play, Dana H. Because the actress’ mouth is moving to the sound of Dana Higginbotham in an edited interview with writer/artist Steve Cosson from 2015, speaking about events of 1998, lip-syncing, her face is doing all in the narration of a harrowing story, and, you simply cannot avert your attention. She tells you it’s the first time she’s ever recounted the story of her abduction by Jim, a member of the Aryan brotherhood, a five-month ordeal from motel to motel, and you believe her because the emotion is so strong, who could speak of it? And you believe her because it is true. And you believe her because she is the playwright’s mother. Finally, you are there with her, in one such motel, and you simply cannot believe she, her son, and you are alive to experience this story.

This play is an astonishing accomplishment. The Vineyard Theater has successfully cornered the market on reality-based drama. Their production of Is This a Room, their prior tour de force, came from the actual transcription of the recorded arrest of Reality Winner. Dana H gets closer by making theater of the tape, and you get a sense of how artful the process is in the melding of the actress with another woman’s voice. To this, Les Waters’ direction is masterful. An esteemed performer, O’Connell was Alison’s hippie-woo-woo mom in Showtime’s “The Affair.” Lucas Hnath showed his chops on Broadway with his TONY-nominated A Doll’s House, part 2, a few seasons ago. And kudos to the production team—Paul Toben’s lighting, Andrew Boyce’s set– for making a simple, generic motel room, psycho-ready.

A note: Having watched Guy Nattiv’s movie, Skin last spring, I was prepared for some of Jim’s unspeakable behavior as described. The Aryan brotherhood is no joke. As a chaplain, Dana Higginbotham’s dedication to the work of preparing people for death makes her teachings miraculous, and left her vulnerable. Even after the events of 1998, she remains a figure of healing, help and hope. The last words of the play are “It’s done,” perhaps a statement of her destiny.