Writer: James Graham
Director: Adam Penford
“How long does it take for a heart to stop,” a pivotal question for the characters in James Graham’s new play Punch, which transfers from Nottingham Playhouse to the Young Vic, as they search for understanding, reconciliation and even forgiveness after a deeply affecting tragedy. A story of ingrained masculine cultures expressed through violence, how the physical and social architecture affects an individual’s life choices and the opportunities of restorative justice, Punch demands a more nuanced understanding of the relationship between cause and effect, showing how the state-of-the-nation shapes and limits working-class lives.
Growing up on the infamous Meadows estate, teenager Jacob Dunne is drawn into a culture of gang rivalry, drugs, drink and fighting, becoming a respected leader. One night a single punch causes the death of stranger James Hodgkinson and Jacob is sent to a young offenders’ prison. Emerging a couple of years later, he is offered the chance to participate in a Restorative Justice programme, meeting James’s parents and starting to turn his life around.
Based on a true story and adapted from Dunne’s book Right from Wrong, Punch mixes single narration directed at the audience – Graham’s first play since The Man in 2010 to adopt this technique – with acted scenes. The fast-paced first half is a whirl of activity built around the moment of impact but cuts through time to explore both the events leading up to the punch and its immediate aftermath. Typically balanced, Graham focuses here on causes of all kinds, examining not just the punch itself but the process that brings both the Hodgkinsons and Jacob to the Restorative Justice programme.
Crucially, this first act draws direct lines between the inherited issues facing the post-industrial community in Nottingham with the conditions that shaped Jacob’s early life, a commentary on the abandonment of local people, limited work opportunities, the confrontational design of social housing and the ingrained powerlessness that passes between generations. As Jacob’s alcoholic mother struggles to cope, so too does Jacob who finds solace in his mates and a swagger that gives the illusion of control, a performative masculinity concealing a fear that even hope has gone from the Meadows forever. “Why is everything fucking Victorian,” he says of prison, although it could just as easily be talking about the political and economic structures that maintain class barriers and deter collective progress.
The second act takes a much slower pace, focused around the unexpected effects and some longer set-piece scenes as both sets of characters find a comfort of sorts in their slow-burn communication, building to an affecting moment where they come face-to-face eliciting audible sniffles around the room. Here, Graham creates space for James Hodgkinson to properly enter the drama as his mother Joan talks about the kind of man he was – a valuable contrast with Jacob’s model of manliness who also starts to evolve, finding purpose and direction that gives the play a typically hopeful ending, suggesting that individuals, communities and even the State can be better if they make different choices.
Centred around a superb performance from David Shields playing Jacob across his life, the first-person narrative allows Dunne to tell his own story and reclaim agency over the events of the play. Shields’ Jacob is blisteringly fast, scattered and intense in the early scenes but reveals a deep vulnerability and remorse that holds the room. Julie Hesmondhalgh and Tony Hirst are excellent as James’s wrought parents who are surprised to find a form of healing with the man who killed their son, while Alec Boaden, Shalisha James-Davis and Emma Pallant complete a strong ensemble cast performing a number of roles.
The later scenes become almost a montage that skips through the years after Restorative Justice perhaps a little too quickly but Punch, like Boys from the Blackstuff before it, is a compassionate examination of how State decisions affect the lives of ordinary people and the dangers of allowing our national heart to stop beating.
Runs until26 April 2025