What happens when a lie takes on a life of its own? In the chilling and provocative Canadian premiere of Dennis Kelly’s DNA, Icarus Theatre peers into the moral void between guilt and survival — and maybe, just maybe finds the fragile humanity beneath it.
In the wooded sprawls of an unnamed urban cityscape, ten teenagers find themselves bound together by guilt, fear, and the desperate instinct to survive the consequences of their own cruelty. One of them is dead, and it’s everyone’s fault. So what now? As panic sets in, Ray (played with unnerving composure by Chantal Grace) proposes a plan to keep them safe from suspicion. But as lies tighten their grip, and power dynamics shift, the group’s fragile solidarity begins to fracture.
A Lord of the Flies for an urban generation teetering on the edge of adulthood, Kelly’s 2007 play is a razor-sharp exploration of morality, leadership, and adolescent group psychology. Kelly’s dialogue — taut, darkly funny, and often shocking — captures the cacophonous rhythm of teenage panic, alternating between frantic exchanges and introspective moments that heighten the tension and reveal each character’s distinct way of coping with crisis.
Under Erik Richards’ tight direction, Icarus’ production is intense and immediate. The staging is fluid and immersive, with the cast emerging from all sides of the space, enveloping the audience in a sense of complicity. A cloying smell of decay is in the air, courtesy of fall leaves strewn with garbage around the floor. Wooden palates piled in the center of this thicket form a crude seat of power, on which leaders confer, and from which they dispense instructions to the group. Nic Vincent’s lighting design heightens the tension through stark contrasts and shadow, while Emily Anne Corcoran’s minimalist costumes and props (and her chillingly buoyant turn as Cathy) ground the production in unsettling realism.
In simple terms, DNA is about peer pressure and the consequences of collective actions. The show probes what happens when the need to belong outweighs the capacity for compassion – and when the comfort of following orders trumps the discomfort of individual morality. But as the show unfolds, keep your eye on who is the leader – when, why, and with what consequences: it’s fascinating fodder for post-show thought. And appreciate the dynamic ensemble of young actors who bring this world (and these questions) to life: they are terrific. Morgan Roy’s Leah, equal parts philosophical and self-conscious, stands as the play’s moral heartbeat. Her scenes with Grace’s Ray, who listens impassively and eats in defiant, unperturbed silence, evoke squirmy discomfort. Jonah Fleming’s volatile John Tate, Seydina Soumah’s grounded Mike, and Brennan Bielefeld’s anxious Danny each carve distinct portraits of guilt and denial. And the teetering fragility of Zaniq King’s Bryn is flat-out shattering.
Ultimately, DNA asks what happens when responsibility become too heavy to bear, and whether redemption – or even truth – is possible. And Icarus Theatre’s unnerving and well-acted interpretation delivers provocation, urgency and depth. This is another noteworthy production for the young company, which through its daring choices and bold execution, is establishing itself as a company of significance and maturity beyond their years.
DNA runs November 15, 2025 at The Theatre Centre. Tickets are available at theatrecentre.org.
© Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine 2025
