One Punch, Two Acts
In spite of its name, Punch falls flat.
The story follows Jacob — a young man from the slums — who is caught up with the wrong crowd, in the wrong place at the wrong time, and fighting to make amends. An irregular rhythm splits the show into two unmarried acts, the first of which is largely a flashback.
Director Adam Penford’s ensemble uses choreographed movement sequences and club beats to create a flowing narrative that oozes of the sleaze and broken dreams of a night out in Nottingham’s underbelly. Will Harrison’s Jacob brings a consistent, frantic energy to the protagonist (of sorts), narrating the choices and experiences of a boy down on his luck. In a system that has failed him, he throws the titular punch, accidentally killing a man in a freak brawl.
Penford builds suspense through poetic monologues, but shows his cards so early that neither the punch nor what follows feels climactic. Instead, the act abruptly stops, having taken us from Jacob’s primary schooling to prison, with stops along the way but little emotional impact.
When the lights come up on the second act, it’s an entirely different show. With the victim’s mother, Joan, played by Victoria Clark, at its heart, the tone of the show changes. Largely based around dialogue, its quiet, emotional therapy sessions carry the story to its end.
Clark’s Joan searches for closure and compassion through therapy sessions with Jacob. Clark sells this beautifully, humanizing Jacob without discarding her own son’s passing. These scenes excel because they are unsatisfying. They don’t play out like a fairytale. Grief and forgiveness are unsatisfying, so are the scenes exploring them. Jacob and Joan’s grief is explored earnestly rather than sugarcoated; there are no cheap “I forgive yous. As they examine the events of the past, it creates meaty conversations surrounding reform and forgiveness, but it makes its own first act feel irrelevant. The trance-like movement sequences stand out starkly from this realistic dialogue, with the latter having the greater impact.
The result is inconsistent and uneven, with the story feeling closer to a staged novel than a breathing work of art. While the strong performances of its cast and flashy design are captivating, they do not save the show from itself, instead highlighting the disparity between its halves. There is something compelling beneath its surface, but Punch does not dig for it until after intermission.
In a production with a strong ensemble, eye-catching lighting, and dynamic staging, there is not one missing piece, but rather a missing core.
