When David Shields first stepped into the role of Jacob Dunne in Punch, he knew it wasn’t going to be just another performance. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done,” he says without hesitation. “I don’t know if I’ll ever find a character like this again.” Based on the devastating true story of a young man who took a life with a single punch — and was later asked to meet the parents of the man he killed — Punch is a raw, urgent play that asks difficult questions about justice, redemption, and what it really means to forgive.

Shields plays Jacob with a quiet, gutting intensity. Over time, the role has evolved for him, as has the weight of certain moments on stage. “That bit at the end, when Joan offers to give me a reference for my university course, and then also offers to take part in the campaign about one-punch violence—that really breaks me every night,” he says. “That moment’s only become more powerful. It’s his disbelief that someone could be so kind in the face of him being so… destructive.” Shields speaks with the same thoughtfulness he brings to the role. He describes how audiences stay behind long after the final bow, not out of politeness but out of something deeper—an emotional compulsion to talk.

It’s clear this production has struck a nerve. Although he has credits in projects like Masters of the Air and Black Mirror, there is something unique about Punch. Shields credits the story’s impact not only to its emotional truth, but also to the space it creates for nuanced conversation. “Forgiveness isn’t this saintly, lofty thing. It’s hard. It has teeth. But it can be to your benefit as well as the person you’re forgiving.” It’s a concept many struggle with— and Punch doesn’t offer easy answers. Instead, it invites audiences to sit with the discomfort, to ask: Could I forgive like Joan? Could I change like Jacob? Shields’ performance is as much about holding space for those questions as it is about bringing a complex, real person to life.

As the show prepares for its West End run at the Apollo Theatre, it’s clear Punch has become more than a play. It’s a call to empathy, a catalyst for dialogue, and, as Shields puts it, “a great insight into how things can go wrong for a young man in society today—and how that can be, at least partly, repaired.”

In conversation with 1883’s Editor Kelsey Barnes, David Shields sits down for a chat about Punch, working alongside Jacob Dunne and Joan and David Hodgkinson, the parents of James, and why the play is so timely for everyone — but particularly men — today.

How are you doing? How’s everything?

It’s going well. The play was good last night. I had some friends there, and there were lots of kids there yesterday. It was kind of funny. Every night is different, and the audience is such a big part of that. Wednesday was super quiet, and then last night was bouncing — loads of kids reacting to different things. It’s fun.

I saw the play — it’ll be two weeks ago tomorrow — and I noticed there was probably a 12-year-old in front of me who was just completely gripped. It must be really interesting for you. Like, it’s one thing to see adult reactions, but to see children who might not be aware of the ramifications of something like a punch.

You’re right. They might not be fully aware. My 12-year-old niece came the other day. Hopefully, some of the goings-on go over her head. But what’s great about the show is how accessible it is. Last night, I could sense these young kids — maybe not even teenagers — were totally gripped by the story. It’s not a children’s play, but from a young age, we all understand the basics of morality, which the piece really explores. That question of forgiveness, and trying to grapple with it—we’ve all done things we regret, and there’s that struggle to atone, or not, and the complexity of navigating that.

I think anyone, of any age, can relate. Plus, the language feels more current than, say, Richard III. Nothing against those plays, but I think that’s part of why kids connect to this one — as soon as the lights come up, they’re into it.

That opening sequence is so gripping. You just don’t want to look away.

Yeah. It’s a bit of an assault on the senses with the lights and sound. The way it’s written — if you see it on the page, you can’t really imagine it. You just have to go pedal to the metal. That’s the thing about this character — he really drives it. I realized early in rehearsals that if I even briefly take my foot off the gas, the whole thing stalls. So I have to really keep the pace up. It makes for a pretty energetic first act.

I think your first acting gig was a short in 2015, according to IMDB.

I don’t even know what it says on my IMDb [laughs]. Technically, my first professional job was a theatre piece. That’s what’s kind of crazy about this job — I did a play in a London Underground station, a play above a pub, and then I got cast in Punch, which is mad. Now we are at the Young Vic… And we’re going into the West End which is so exciting. This is my third show, and it’s taken me on this wild path. It’s a James Graham piece, which was both exciting and daunting. I think the credit you’re referring to — my first film credit — was actually in a feature called Una, where I was a supporting artist, basically an extra.

How do you feel you’ve grown as an actor in that time, going from being an extra to now spearheading this play? It’s a pretty amazing arc, really.

Yeah, there was a lot in between — I did small parts in features here and there, and eventually I got to Masters of the Air, Black Mirror… the credits have built up over time. But this piece definitely feels like something I can really get my teeth into, in a way I haven’t had before. That’s why it’s been so enjoyable

Do you feel like every time you step into the role, you’re still growing? I know you’re not technically doing the same thing every night — because of how audiences react and all that — but do you feel like you’re growing alongside the role?

Yeah, I think so. I’m learning a lot as an actor. This has almost become like a second training ground for me. I’m surrounded by actors who are much more experienced in theatre than I am, which has been incredibly helpful. I suppose the best roles are the ones that teach you something about yourself and about the world. I’ve never felt that more than with this piece. I mean, I didn’t even know what restorative justice was before this.

I didn’t either. I didn’t even realize that was a thing.

Yeah, most people don’t. I think something like 94% of victims — or families of victims — don’t know that this process exists, or how beneficial it could be. Part of what we’re trying to do is spread awareness of that.

In terms of your question, have I grown? Definitely. I think I’m aware of it as it’s happening. I’ve never really been someone who got into fights, but this show made me wrestle with how dangerous that can be. More than that, Jacob’s story [in Punch] is inspiring to me. I think a big reason why so many men get emotional watching this is because it’s about a guy who’s learning emotional language from scratch, having never had it before, and trying to figure it out. That’s such a huge thing. A lot of men recognize just how tough that is. In terms of personal growth, I think this role has taught me — and hopefully teaches audiences, especially men — about the value of learning and engaging with that emotional language. It can be a benefit to yourself and to the people around you.

I’m assuming you read Jacob’s book before taking on the role — was there anything else you did to prep? I know you went to Nottingham, right?

Yeah, I went up there. I hadn’t spent much time in Nottingham. I wanted to get a proper sense of the place, to have real pictures in my head of what I was talking about on stage. The play is so much about identity. Sure, it’s a story that could happen anywhere, and people all over the world can relate to it, but it’s also a celebration of Nottingham, really. I went round the pubs, visited the area Jacob grew up in, around Trent Bridge and stayed for the weekend. It was super useful. Beyond that, Jacob was involved from the very beginning. I could lean on him any time — observe how he spoke, his mannerisms. That was invaluable during rehearsal. Having the person you’re playing right there, you know? That’s incredible.

Was that daunting for you at all? It’s one thing to portray someone who lived a hundred years ago, but this is a real person, a recent story, and a very emotional one.

Yeah, it was daunting — rehearsing this incredibly heavy material with the actual person in the room. One of the hardest things I’ve ever done, no exaggeration. Especially the day we ran the show in front of Jacob and his parents, Joan and David. They were just a few meters away while we were rehearsing the punch that killed their son… or the scene where they turn off the life support machine. It felt, at times, almost grotesque and wrong. They were emotional, obviously, which made us emotional. I completely lost control that day — I was in bits. I had to work on reining that in, obviously. You can’t do that every night on stage. But I’m really glad we did it, because their feedback changed things. For instance, they weren’t happy with the word accident being used by certain characters.

Because Jacob hasn’t fully come to terms with it, right?

Exactly. Jacob’s allowed to use that word — it reflects where he is emotionally. But David didn’t want other characters calling it an accident. So James [Graham] rewrote a line in the meeting scene where the father says, “An accident? No one punches someone accidentally, do they?” That’s what makes James so great — he really carries his subjects with him, listens, and respects their wishes. That creates a feedback loop that makes the play even more authentic.

You mentioned being in bits during that rehearsal. Given how emotional this role is, how do you deal with it night after night? How do you compartmentalize?

How do I compartmentalize? Well, there’s a really nice IPA behind the bar… [Laughs]. But seriously, I’ve got friends coming most nights. Sometimes I do feel a bit spaced out afterward. It takes a little time to come down. But to be honest, I think that’s part of the job. That’s what you sign up for. I don’t find it that impressive when actors say they can’t get out of character months later. That’s your job — get in, do the work, get out. That said, I do catch myself still in it sometimes. I’ll be hanging out with friends, running lines in my head or imagining scenes, and they’re like, “What are you doing?” So yeah, maybe I’m guilty of that too — but it’s not that I can’t turn it off, more that I don’t want to, in case I lose something.

Costume also really informs how an actor steps into a role, I think. There’s that scene where he gets the shoes after prison — I found that really moving. Were you involved in choosing what you’d wear?

Oh yeah, we tried on about 10 different pairs of jeans just to find the right look. Some looked too “skater,” some were too modern. Around the time Jacob was inside, guys wore jeans a bit lower, stuff like that. I said this on the shoot — I don’t wear denim. I think if you invented denim today, you’d never get away with it! It stretches, shrinks, it’s uncomfortable. I think people in the ’70s got conned into pretending they were cowboys.

[Laughs] Right — you were saying you tried on loads of jeans…

Yeah, loads. Costume’s massive for me. It’s probably part of what got me into acting in the first place. I was always dressing up as a kid — Spider-Man, Roman soldier, all of that. It’s funny — you can do all this deep internal character work, but sometimes all it takes is a pair of sunglasses or a hat, and boom, you’re there. Our director, Adam [Penford], was keen on a white shirt — really clean, stark. The Fred Perry stuff, that’s what Jacob wore. Those trainers in the show? He wore those through his whole prison sentence — 15 months. When he got out, his friends met him and gave him a new pair of shoes. That was a huge moment for him. He was worried he’d been forgotten, you know? I think that’s a big fear for people inside — that life has just moved on without them. That gesture meant the world to him.

I feel like getting those sneakers — that was shift in the play, where it was like, “Okay, this is now the second half.” Are there any lines or moments in the dialogue that have changed for you while you’ve been acting it out? Because I know you guys did the play before, has anything taken on a new meaning for you, or is there a line that really resonates?

Anything that’s changed… I mean, things change all the time, and you start thinking about things in a different way. You know that bit at the end, when Joan first offers to give me a reference for my university course, and then also offers to take part with me in the campaign about one-punch violence — that breaks me every night. That moment has only become more powerful. It’s his disbelief that someone could be so kind in the face of Jacob being so destructive. I suppose my feelings toward Joan and David and what they did has only grown, really, as I’ve become more invested in the story. I genuinely think of them as heroes, people we should all look up to.

That would be the line, yeah. Even just, “Can I write you a reference?” I took my friend to see it, and she did this subtle gasp when Joan said that. You don’t expect people to be so kind and forgiving, especially in these circumstances.

Yeah, I know what you mean—100%. And not everyone can do it, you know? Not everyone will be able to take part in restorative justice. I think what the play expresses is that, for Joan, forgiveness isn’t this saintly, lofty thing. I think that’s how we tend to view it, right? As this kind of…

Holier-than-thou…

Yeah, like a priestly exercise. But it’s not. It’s a hard thing — it has teeth. It’s a really hard thing to do. But it can also be for your benefit, as well as the person you’re forgiving. I hope that’s something we’re getting across.

Even just having pamphlets and everything around the theatre for people to get more information—I think that’s really handy. You don’t always get that. I haven’t really experienced that in a theatre before.

Yeah, that’s such a great thing. Our producer, Kate Pakenham, she’s deeply involved with the Longford Trust, which helps ex-prisoners into higher education. We’re hopefully supporting Remedi, the restorative justice charity, and we’ve done a lot of post-show talks — will be doing more for the West End run too.

We had Shami Chakrabarti in the other day doing a talk with some people who’ve spent time in prison. The amazing thing is, so many people stay behind after the show. When those talks happen, no one leaves. It’s crazy. Jacob did these talking circles in Nottingham after the shows, and I remember — again — there were hundreds and hundreds of people staying behind. They felt this need, this compulsion, to talk about it afterwards. I think that’s theatre at its best. Theatre — more than film or TV — it kind of creates this polemic. It makes you think. Everyone watching sees something slightly different, because it forces you to use your imagination. And especially with a story like this, which is rooted in reality, it really makes people question what they would do in the same position. Could they do what Joan and David did? Could they forgive? Could they do what Jacob did—turn their life around? It’s a story that inspires so much debate.

That must be so gratifying, to know that you’re part of that. A cog in the machine that’s creating a wider discussion. Conversations between, say, a 12-year-old boy and his father. There’s still so much toxic masculinity, and men not wanting to talk about their feelings but this is something that opens that up. That must be really nice for you to know you’re even a tiny part of that.

100%. We’ve had lots of young boys, young men, come to see it. And I’m hoping for the West End run, our outreach team will bring in even more. I think there’s a readiness in the culture to engage in that debate. That show Adolescence, thematically, is very similar to ours. I’d encourage teachers, parents, and anyone with young boys to come see our play. It’s not a “lesson”—I don’t want it to sound like it’s undramatic or preachy. It’s a very emotive piece. It’s an insight into how things can go wrong for a young man in society today — and how they can, in part, be repaired. If I had a young boy, this is definitely something I’d want to bring him to.

Let’s chat about the West End run, which must be really exciting.

Yes, two and a half months at the Apollo Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue.

That must feel incredible. You’ve now seen it in three different places.

Yeah, it’s nice. It’s really nice that the play has reached the potential I always thought it had. That doesn’t often happen. A regional show going to a subsidized theatre, and then into the West End — that’s special. I’m immensely proud to be a part of this production. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done. One of my castmates came up to me afterward and said, “I don’t know if you’ll ever find a character like this again.” Which was such a lovely compliment, but also slightly depressing. Like, it’s all downhill from here! [Laughs] But honestly, I kind of agree. So my mission is just to make the most of it while it lasts.

Punch will be on the West End at the Apollo Theatre from September 22nd to November 29th. Book tickets now at theapollotheatre.co.uk.

One Punch UK is a charity raising awareness and educating people about the devastating impact one punch can have — for more information visit onepunch.org.uk.

Interview Kelsey Barnes
Photography Garry Jones
Styling Koulla Sergi
Grooming Paul Donovan