Camden Fringe 2026
Camden Fringe 2026
Embedded Files
Review: THE LESSONS WE CANNOT AFFORD TO IGNORE
Review: THE LESSONS WE CANNOT AFFORD TO IGNORE
NICOLE ABRAHAM'S PUNCH ME THEN IS A FIERCE, INTELLEGENT, AND DEEPLY AFFECTING EXAMINATION OF TRAUMA, MASCULINITY, AND THE responsibility TO SHAPE THE NEXT GENERATION.
NICOLE ABRAHAM'S PUNCH ME THEN IS A FIERCE, INTELLEGENT, AND DEEPLY AFFECTING EXAMINATION OF TRAUMA, MASCULINITY, AND THE responsibility TO SHAPE THE NEXT GENERATION.
★★★★★
★★★★★
Punch Me Then is the kind of theatre that does not simply ask difficult questions—it refuses to let us look away from them. Powerful, intense, and startlingly timely, this is a play that understands just how urgently we need to talk about misogyny, consent, trauma, and the frightening ways harmful attitudes can take root in young people.
Punch Me Then is the kind of theatre that does not simply ask difficult questions—it refuses to let us look away from them. Powerful, intense, and startlingly timely, this is a play that understands just how urgently we need to talk about misogyny, consent, trauma, and the frightening ways harmful attitudes can take root in young people.
At its center is Lila, played by Abraham herself, a schoolteacher and storyteller who uses texts such as 1984 and Animal Farm to encourage her Year 11 students to interrogate the systems and behaviors that continue to plague society. Her students are bright, funny, and capable of genuine kindness, but their increasingly rebellious behavior begins to awaken memories of Lila’s own sexual assault. Abraham’s writing handles this collision between past and present with remarkable sensitivity, never reducing Lila to her trauma. Instead, it becomes part of her determination to ensure that the next generation does not repeat the mistakes of the previous one.
At its center is Lila, played by Abraham herself, a schoolteacher and storyteller who uses texts such as 1984 and Animal Farm to encourage her Year 11 students to interrogate the systems and behaviors that continue to plague society. Her students are bright, funny, and capable of genuine kindness, but their increasingly rebellious behavior begins to awaken memories of Lila’s own sexual assault. Abraham’s writing handles this collision between past and present with remarkable sensitivity, never reducing Lila to her trauma. Instead, it becomes part of her determination to ensure that the next generation does not repeat the mistakes of the previous one.
There are echoes here of Suzie Miller’s Prima Facie and Inter Alia, particularly in the way a central storyteller gradually reveals the personal stakes behind the wider social argument. But Abraham has a voice distinctly her own. The play’s most devastating development comes through Kayla, a student who initially clashes with Lila before revealing that she, too, is a survivor—only her perpetrator is her own father. Their stories collide in a way that makes the question of what it means to protect, teach, and influence young people painfully unavoidable.
There are echoes here of Suzie Miller’s Prima Facie and Inter Alia, particularly in the way a central storyteller gradually reveals the personal stakes behind the wider social argument. But Abraham has a voice distinctly her own. The play’s most devastating development comes through Kayla, a student who initially clashes with Lila before revealing that she, too, is a survivor—only her perpetrator is her own father. Their stories collide in a way that makes the question of what it means to protect, teach, and influence young people painfully unavoidable.
Abraham’s performance is equally compelling. This is a solo show, and she takes on the entire world of the play herself, portraying not only Lila but the students and other voices who populate her story. The transitions between characters are remarkably fluid, giving the production an intimacy that makes its most difficult moments feel even more immediate. As Lila, she carries the weight of someone attempting to turn personal pain into something constructive, even when the emotional cost becomes almost unbearable. And then comes that final line: “I’ll give it another year.” It lands not as resignation, but as an act of courage. Lila chooses to stay, to teach, and to keep trying.
Abraham’s performance is equally compelling. This is a solo show, and she takes on the entire world of the play herself, portraying not only Lila but the students and other voices who populate her story. The transitions between characters are remarkably fluid, giving the production an intimacy that makes its most difficult moments feel even more immediate. As Lila, she carries the weight of someone attempting to turn personal pain into something constructive, even when the emotional cost becomes almost unbearable. And then comes that final line: “I’ll give it another year.” It lands not as resignation, but as an act of courage. Lila chooses to stay, to teach, and to keep trying.
Punch Me Then is urgent theatre with something meaningful to say—and the courage to say it. Abraham has created a searing reminder that changing the future begins with the conversations we are willing to have now.
Punch Me Then is urgent theatre with something meaningful to say—and the courage to say it. Abraham has created a searing reminder that changing the future begins with the conversations we are willing to have now.
PUNCH ME THEN - John Lyon's Theatre,
Attended on 16 August 2026. Part of Camden Fringe 2026. {Press Invite}
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