“Punch” at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre (Photo: Matthew Murphy)

The events depicted in Punch take place mostly in 2011, and the play itself often feels like a relic of British theatre from that era. James Graham’s ripped-from-the-headlines drama, opening simultaneously at Broadway’s Samuel J. Friedman Theatre and in London’s West End, unfurls with relentless kineticism and dazzling design reminiscent of War Horse or The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. Yet like those predecessors, the busy physical elements of the production overshadow the human story at its core.

There’s no question that Punch has the potential to pack one. It follows Jacob Dunne (Will Harrison), an aimless street tough caught in a spiral of violence in hardscrabble Nottingham, England. Spoiling for a fight one night, Jacob randomly assaults James Hodgkinson, a young paramedic who was a stranger to him. Jacob’s lone blow proves fatal, which sends him on a journey that includes prison, reform, and redemption. Graham adapted the play from Dunne’s own memoir Right from Wrong, whose TedTalk on the subject has been viewed more than 30,000 times on YouTube.

In life and on stage, Jacob’s arc of absolution unfolds through the lens of restorative justice, a movement that brings together victims and perpetrators of crimes for accountability and healing. As he rebuilds his life, Jacob begins contact with Joan (Victoria Clark) and David (Sam Robards), the parents of the man he killed. Their halting initial encounters grow to genuine forgiveness as it becomes clear that Jacob has taken responsibility for his actions.

There are many elements of Punch that would make for great drama in their own right. Joan and David’s relationship clearly frays after the loss of their son, and they each struggle to give his memory meaning through a connection with the man who killed him. Jacob too functions as the rare example of a young man who moves from a cog in the system’s wheel to a legitimate success story, motivated to help others avoid his own path.

Graham, however, defaults more often to a stand-and-deliver type of expository playwriting, providing the audience with facts rather than emotions. Characters tend to talk past, rather than directly to each other. Moments that hold potential for deep catharsis are elided in favor of technical spectacle in Adam Penford’s busy production. You leave remembering Anna Fleischle’s imposing scenic design, Robbie Butler’s pulsating lights, and Leanne Pinder’s precise choreography more than any one moment between people.

The always fine Clark manages to imbue Joan with palpable pathos, even when she seems to exist purely as a mouthpiece for ideas about healing. Lucy Taylor is also distinctive and moving in a dual role as Jacob’s mother and parole officer. In his Broadway debut, Harrison struggles to project Jacob’s quick temper in the first act, but settles into a compelling performance as the play moves forward.

Near the end of Punch, Joan, a nurse by training, informs Jacob of the five vital organs a body needs to continue living: the liver, kidneys, lungs, heart, and brain. She says she knew her son couldn’t be saved when it was clear that three of these five organs were in failure. The play itself has a deeply beating heart, but it doesn’t always seem connected to its brain.