James Graham’s Punch is a powerful yet sometimes preachy take on violence and reform

After a messy day of boozing, Jacob mindlessly threw a single punch that wrecked four lives – paramedic James sustained a fatal head injury, and his parents were left reeling as his attacker was packed off to prison. This latest work from wildly prolific playwright James Graham (Dear England, Boys from the Blackstuff) was a hit when it debuted last summer at Nottingham Playhouse, in the city in which it’s set and whose sharply drawn social divides cut through its story. Transferring to the Young Vic, its thoughtful search for meaning in a senseless act leaves the audience noisily sobbing.

The story’s big central theme is restorative justice – a process that puts people affected by a crime in contact with those who committed it. The aim is to avoid surprises, with everyone in the room carefully prepped so that there’s no shouting, no accusations, no ugly scenes. It’s calculatedly undramatic. So Graham’s challenge here is to find new ways to bring tension to the table.

David Shields is utterly convincing as a 19-year-old lad who’s drifting, looking to beef up his flimsy excuse for a life with pub brawls. “A fight is coming tonight… and I can’t wait,” he says, licking his lips, pulsing with energy that needs an outlet. His nights are a joyride: a weed deal here, a flirtation with a girl there, as the cast duck and weave about in hoodies. At home, he spends hours playing a computer game, one which Adam Penford’s production makes ring with synth sounds and glow with flashes of brightly coloured lights.

Then, things get real, and a new kind of drama starts. Julie Hesmondhalgh and Tony Hirst deliver moving, grounded performances as James’ grieving middle-class parents – his mother’s deeply felt need for answers gradually overcoming the father’s erupting rage at the stranger who wrecked their family. Little by little, they move towards a world where they can sit across the table from Jacob, guided by a restorative justice facilitator (Shalisha James-Davis) who tells them about his difficult past, about his determination to sort his life out and go to uni.

Their final meeting is nail-bitingly intense, two worlds colliding in slow motion. As always, Graham has got a sharp eye trained on the political and social conditions beneath this story. Projected PowerPoint slides educate the audience on Jacob’s plummet from carefully raised member of the “aspirational working class” to school dropout, paralleled by the Meadows estate’s plunge from utopian social housing project to drug dealers’ playground. It’s a story that needs to be told, especially as Graham subtly points to each government service that’s being cut, each former safety net that’s being whipped away.

But still this play often feels overly didactic, with little moral complication, and little to surprise or challenge existing views you might have of any of the people involved: sometimes we slip into the territory of the TED talk, which Jacob, reformed and out of prison, proudly does in its second half. Instead, it’s a potent, emotive shot of hope, one that defuses its drama with profound care and sensitivity.

At The Young Vic until 26 April; tickets and information here