Punch ★★★★★

Real-life stories can be challenging to theatricalize because facts can be dramatically pesky; who, what, where, when, and why can easily make an audience sigh. Because such exposition rarely propels a narrative on its own, the material depends on the writer to imbue it with life, a task few handle as deftly as the prolific British playwright James Graham.

From his breakout play – This House, which chronicled a series of contentious events that occurred in the House of Commons in the 1970s – to his most recent outing, Make It Happen, which premiered this past August at the Edinburgh International Festival and detailed the rise and fall of CEO Fred Goodwin as he destroyed the Royal Bank of Scotland during the 2008 global financial crisis, Graham has consistently demonstrated a remarkable ability to make complex stories feel lively and accessible on stage. Though his work as the book writer of musicals (Finding Neverland and Tammy Faye) hasn’t been as well received in New York, in the realm of plays, Graham has firmly staked his claim as a worthy heir to the great David Hare. (Heir to Hare, as it were.)

In Punch, Graham’s play that is concurrently running on Broadway at Manhattan Theatre Club’s Friedman Theatre and in London’s West End at the Apollo Theatre, the facts are these: In 2011, 28-year-old paramedic James Hodgkinson was killed by a single punch to the head after a day spent watching cricket in Nottingham, England. His assailant – 19-year-old Jacob Dunne, high on alcohol, cocaine, and ecstasy – was a complete stranger. Dunne was sentenced to 30 months in prison and released after serving less than half that term.

Were it not for the tragically unnecessary nature of Hodgkinson’s death, this story might have remained unremarkable were it not also for his parents, Joan Scourfield and David Hodgkinson. They reached out to their son’s killer after he was released from prison through a restorative justice program, communicating first via letters and, eventually, in person, in an effort to come to an understanding of the crime and its impact. Dunne credits the strength and humanity of the grieving parents with saving his life from sliding back into familiar patterns of desperation, all of which is recounted in Right from Wrong, his book upon which this play is based.

Those are the facts, and Graham, director Adam Penford, and movement director Leanne Pinder handle them by charging the first act with remarkable verbal and physical energy. The tireless ensemble constantly moves in, out, up and down Anna Fleischle’s brutalist set as Jacob gives his fiery, rushed version of the day that would end one life and alter so many others. His recall of the moments right before the titular punch:

“Market Square, teeming. McDonald’s, next to it. Yate’s, people spilling out of the bar, I can see it, and I don’t pause, don’t think, just run. Run into it – to my group circling some other group, some lads, these lads, one lad, and I don’t think. I just go in…”

In contrast to Jacob’s hyper, youthful narration, the stage slows and quiets whenever Joan and David appear, and the change in dynamics not only gives space to the other side of this tragic story but also allows the audience to breathe. This air becomes crucial late in the play, when, in what will likely be one of the most emotionally charged and breathtaking scenes seen on Broadway this season, Jacob finally meets his victim’s parents.

Sometimes productions become must-see events because of a single moment. It’s no disparagement to the rest of this play to say that this heartbreaking scene between two parents and the murderer of their son will be what is most remembered. Witnessing such compassion and sorrow as opposing sides attempt to find common ground resonates particularly strongly at a moment when – outside the theater and around the country – divisions have become so entrenched and unyielding. Inside the Friedman, in this stunningly effective moment of catharsis, stillness and quiet are broken only by the sounds of sadness emanating from the audience.

Such power cannot happen without the full commitment of the cast, and this ensemble is superb without exception. Special kudos go to Victoria Clark and Sam Robards as Joan and David, and to Will Harrison, who is making an electrifying Broadway debut as Jacob. Robbie Butler’s lighting design also deserves mention; his bold work here surprises and elevates the drama in all the right ways.

Not to spike this Punch, but a few quibbles are in order. The play spans 14 years, and given all the time frames that need to be covered, some first-act sections feel slightly prolonged, while others in the second act rush past. Additionally, the impact of Jacob’s reconciliation with his younger brother, Sam, is muted by the lack of prior introduction, and the play’s march to conclusion lingers a few minutes too many beyond its major emotional apex.

Nonetheless, the ending of Punch positions it as a distant, more optimistic cousin not to any of Hare’s oeuvre but rather to Edward Bond’s controversial 1965 play Saved, a play that, like Punch, largely takes place on a council estate in England. In both works, poverty and disenfranchisement leave young men with so little hope that violence offers a desperate outlet. Saved was infamous (and prosecuted by Lord Chamberlain) for its scene where an unwanted baby is casually stoned to death in its pram. Punch also features a pram – which Jacob rolls out in the play’s final moments – but rather than leaving the audience in despair, Graham proposes that tomorrow might, in fact, be brighter.