James Graham’s Punch, just brought to New York from England’s Nottingham (approx. 127 miles northwest of London) and London’s fringe, plunges more deeply into emotional areas—almost Biblically—than just about any drama on current or recent display. In two acts the drama all but guarantees that by its conclusion there won’t be, as the expression goes, a dry eye in the house.
The cause for all the tear-shedding? A true story that Graham—among Great Britain’s most reliable contemporary playwrights—has based on Jacob Dunne’s memoir, Right From Wrong, the full title, Right From Wrong: My Story of Guilt and Redemption. (For Graham’s playwriter significance, check out the much-lauded This House, Dear England, and Ink, the only one so far introduced here.)
Jacob Dunne’s story is this: On July 31. 2011, when he was 19 and incorrigibly rowdy, he punched out 28-year-old James Hodgkinson, ironically a paramedic-in-training, at a local bar in Nottingham’s lower-class neighborhood. James fell backwards, hit his head, and was soon pronounced dead.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
Though Jacob fled, the police quickly learned his identity and arrested him. He was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to 30 months in jail, serving 14. (The death was not considered murder, rather manslaughter, as a result of the demise being attributed to a head injury, not the supposed killer punch.)
Jacob’s release under probation—when he considers a choice between vengeance or redemption—is where act two acutely and astutely concentrates. Graham might as well have dubbed the acts “Sin” and “Redemption.” To wit, the prison-reformed Jacob begins the act carrying a Bible and reading from psalm 107—“Let the redeemed…tell their story.”
It turns out that Jacob chose redemption, primarily through a program developed in England’s late 1990s, Restorative Justice and an adjunct program, the Forgiveness Project. Their purpose was, in this instance, bringing Jacob together with James’ parents for mutual understanding, acceptance and forgiveness the eventual goal.
That the goal is reached is what Graham, himself a Nottinghamshire resident, presents. Suffice it to say, that the slow process and the conclusion is what gives Punch a resolution putting it in the no-dry-eye category.
Oh, yes, Punch packs its own punch with power far more exhilarating than the above retelling might suggest. It could even be that Jacob Dunne’s tale sounds more like material for a documentary than a play. As a matter of fact, the currently reconstituted Dunne makes a practice of recounting his healing days at TED talks and the like and as co-founder of the Common Ground Justice Project. After all, his past is a matter of true-life (true-crime?) storytelling.
Yes, it is, but director Adam Penford, artistic director at Nottingham Playhouse, is having none of that. He has staged it as a spectacle on Anna Fleischle’s abstract set with curved staircases and a bridge, theatrically lighted by Robbie Butler.
The 10-member cast, except for Will Harrison as Jacob, assume multiple roles as they repeatedly gather and disperse. (Leanne Pinder is the movement director, and, Lord knows, she’s had much movement to direct.)
Notably, the play, transferred from England, boasts an American cast, an ensemble doing an impressive job of sounding like Nottingham citizens, with thanks due dialect coaches Charlotte Fleck and Ben Furey.
The explosive role of Jacob qualifies as a tour de force, Harrison fulfilling all the demands. After the entire cast opens with something resembling a military drill, husky (perhaps huskier than the actual Jacob), Harrison enters, strides stage-center like a carnival barker and dominates the first act as a figure of bully confidence.
During the second half, transformed into the redeeming Jacob and appearing at a loss as to who he was and who he doesn’t yet know he wants or can be, Harrison remains profoundly effective. On meeting and getting to know James’ parents, this Jacob is riveting as he grapples with complicated feelings, his piercing eyes impossible to ignore.
Affectively supporting him, the cast members often shift from one character to another by nothing more than shucking a pullover—say, Jacob’s mum to a probation officer and back (Lucy Taylor). Two-time Tony winner Victoria Clark, not singing a note, and Sam Robards lift the second act as James’ parents Joan and David. Alongside Harrison, they touchingly play their individual struggles to find forgiveness for Jacob, just as Jacob struggles to find forgiveness for himself.
Does he? That’s the point of the reach-for-the-Kleenex finale. No description here, other than to say that its like may not be equaled on any stage this season or possibly for a few seasons to come.
Punch opened September 29, 2025, at Samuel J. Friedman Theatre and runs through November 25. Tickets and information: manhattantheatreclub.com
