Writer: Paul Laverty
Adaptor: David Johns
Director: Mark Calvert
It was in 2016 that the Ken Loach film, I, Daniel Blake, was released, winning numerous awards including the BAFTA for Best British Film. The storyline and its depiction of DWP staff led to controversy and in response to a question, the government famously remarked that it was a work of fiction. And in the strictest sense, it is. However, the film and this adaptation of it both resonate with a deeper truth, one that is troubling and unsettling.
In the film, Daniel Blake is played by stand-up comedian Dave Johns and it is Johns who has written this adaptation, updated to take account of the political landscape since the film’s release.
Dan, a carpenter in Newcastle, is off work having had a massive heart attack. His doctor, who really should be best placed to know, tells him he must not work until fit to do so. We meet Dan as he applies for Employment and Support Allowance and is asked a fixed series of yes/no questions intended, the authorities say, to confirm if he is fit to work. But the questions are generic and Dan becomes increasingly frustrated as none seem to actually address his problems with his heart and his application is refused. There’s an appeals system, but this is a bureaucratic maze and requires skills that Dan just doesn’t have – he’s not computer literate so the lazy assumption that he has access to the internet or apps on his phone actively blocks his progress. And then there’s the almost-mythical decision maker, a god-like figure in the shadows who cannot be contacted or even named. So to try to get by, Dan is pushed into applying for Jobseekers’ Allowance as he waits but also struggles to qualify for that.
Meanwhile, Katie and her daughter Daisy have been living in a hostel in London. After years of waiting they are finally offered a flat – in Newcastle. Unfamiliar with this new city and having travelled overnight by coach, they are late for their interview at the DWP and immediately sanctioned, losing benefits for four weeks. In a chance encounter, Dan meets them but his pleas for an application of common sense on their behalf fall on determinedly deaf ears. This is the start of an unlikely friendship that sees Dan regain some self-esteem by helping Katie improve her new flat and giving tips on living cheaply. But Katie too must live and we watch her spiral downwards as she desperately tries to find ways of making ends meet, going without so that Daisy can eat.
This s a powerful piece and those considering seeing it should check out the trigger statement as the play is unrelenting and hard-hitting. And much of that impact comes from the total harmony with which the elements of the story interact. Rhys Jarman’s simple, stark set and projections set the scene. Ross Millard has provided a haunting soundscape that, almost unnoticed, manipulates the emotions. The dialogue is naturalistic, opening a window into the characters’ lives, while Mark Calvert’s direction guides us on the emotional rollercoaster. Yes, this is a bleak tale, but there are moments of genuine humour and humanity, and Calvert ensures that these land too, providing much-needed light amongst the shade.
At the centre is the evolving relationship between Dan (David Nellist) and Katie (Bryony Corrigan). Both truly inhabit the roles and are entirely believable, as is the evolution of their friendship and the bond that develops. Their growing desperation is honestly told. Nellist ensures that we feel and share Dan’s frustration at the Catch-22 situation in which he finds himself. The tensions that Katie feels trying to do the best for Daisy in an increasingly hostile world are starkly painted by Corrigan: we go to the interval in a wash of emotions as we see the aftermath when Katie is forced to visit a foodbank; Katie’s descent seems complete. Jodie Wild’s Daisy is a joy, her teenage emotions written clear at every stage. Light relief is provided by Dan’s entrepreneurial neighbour China (Kema Sikazwe). Calvert cleverly distances the nameless officials from Dan and Katie as they repeatedly knock them back. Their jobsworth attitude is all the more chilling because it is entirely credible; if there is a criticism to be made, then it could be that these characters are more two-dimensional than the others, perhaps the inevitable outcome of an under-resourced system that really should protect the most vulnerable.
I, Daniel Blake is not an easy watch: it pulls no punches in the storytelling and despite the moments of lightness, one is left feeling drained and angry in equal parts. Nevertheless, it’s important that it is seen and I would urge you to make the effort to do so during its tour.
Runs until 25 June 2023 and on tour
I laughed, I cried. So emotive, absolutely brilliant. Highly recommended.