At the start of DNA, a group of teens takes a cruel prank too far—their actions result in what they believe is the death of their classmate Adam. In the weeks following Adam’s “death,” as the group struggles to maintain their composure in the face of their shame and a widespread public investigation, their guilt nonetheless begins to eat away at them. As Dennis Kelly charts the deterioration of his core group of characters, he ultimately suggests that guilt is a force capable of eroding—and even destroying—the human psyche.
There are several characters throughout the play who, oddly, experience no remorse, guilt, or shame—but the ones who do find their mental states rapidly deteriorating, leaving them just as destroyed as those whose lives they’ve been complicit in ruining. The first major character whose guilt over hiding the truth about Adam’s death results in mental deterioration is the kind, sensitive Brian. At the start of the play, Brian stands out within the group as one of its kinder, gentler members. When the news of Adam’s supposed death comes to him—along with the mechanics of how it happened—he becomes deeply upset and begins crying. John Tate calls him a “crying little piece of filth,” and when Brian responds that he believes they should “tell someone” about what has happened, no one else agrees with him. Over the course of the play, Brian’s guilt over keeping quiet worsens. His already fragile mental state worsens, and soon, Brian is doped up on psychiatric medication to cope with his emotions. Reduced to a childlike, disconnected state, Brian giggles maniacally, eats dirt, and suffers an inability to read social cues or understand the basic outline of what’s happening to him at any given moment. Towards the end of the play, after discovering that Adam has been alive and clinging to life in the woods, Phil orders Brian to kill Adam by strangling him with a plastic bag. In the wake of actually committing murder, Brian goes truly mad with guilt and grief—and by the very end of the play, Brian’s meds are upped once again and he is reduced to a drooling, catatonic mess.
The second character whose guilt eats away at her is Leah. At the beginning of the play, Leah is a shallow and self-absorbed girl concerned only with how others perceive her. She is in a very one-sided relationship with her boyfriend Phil, whom she talks to at length despite getting no response from him. She interrogates him endlessly about what he thinks of her: her voice, her appearance, and her social standing. After learning of what has happened to Adam, Leah is terrified more than she is sad. In accordance with her selfish nature, she is determined not to get caught up in the mess and goes along with what’s asked of her when it comes to covering up the crime. Later on in the play, however, as Phil shuts Leah out more and more and then eventually orders Brian to murder Adam for real, Leah becomes unable to deal with the guilt she feels over having been complicit in Adam’s death. Leah rejects Phil, leaves the school, and cuts off contact with the group—her guilt has eroded the person she once was and forced her out of her old life.
The third character who finds his life torn apart by guilt is the swaggering, confident John Tate. Though John Tate seems to be the de facto leader of the group—and an intimidating social presence—at the start of the play, the business with Adam’s murder fundamentally changes him. After the man the teens frame for Adam’s murder is arrested, John Tate—perhaps realizing the coverup has gone too far—stops associating with the group and even avoids attending school. By the end of the play, the others have heard rumors that he’s “found God” and “joined the Jesus Army.” John Tate now evangelizes on street corners and in shopping malls—his religious conversion is, ostensibly, the result of his desire to ameliorate his guilt over his involvement in Adam’s death while feeling barred from atoning for it or claiming responsibility in any real way.
The fourth character who is slowly consumed by guilt—albeit in a strange and barely-perceptible way—is the cold, calculating, aloof Phil. Phil is the play’s central and most enigmatic character. Phil is distant, cold, and mostly silent—he is obsessed with food, he rarely speaks (even when spoken to or shouted at), and he opens his mouth only to direct the other members of the group as to what actions they should take in moments of crisis. Phil’s intricate plans seem to arrive fully formed, and he apparently has no guilt, qualms, or hesitations as he concocts plans to frame an innocent man for Adam’s “death” and, later, to murder Adam for real when he’s discovered alive. Phil often eats or drinks through others’ pleas for him to answer their questions or respond to him, stopping his snacking only to coolly deliver his robotic instructions at the most crucial of moments. By the end of the play, however, Kelly implies that not even Phil is free from guilt. After Adam’s murder and Leah’s departure, Phil is seen—for the first time in the play—sitting alone without any food around him. This implies that his guilt, which he is likely unable to acknowledge, has made even his one joy—eating—completely unappealing and perhaps even revolting. Guilt has eroded Phil and changed the person he used to be, even if he remains outwardly much the same.
As Dennis Kelly shows how four major characters wrestle with feelings of guilt—feelings they often aren’t even able to admit to themselves—he demonstrates how the emotion slowly festers within a person’s heart and mind, changing them and sometimes even destroying them from the inside out. Guilt, to Kelly, is a force of nature—and over the course of the play, he suggests that it’s better to come clean than to let such a powerful weight slowly crush one’s soul.
Guilt ThemeTracker
Guilt Quotes in DNA
You’re not scared. Nothing scares, there, I’ve said it; scared. Scared, Phil. I’m scared, they scare me, this place, everyone, the fear, the fear that everyone here, and I’m not the only one, I’m not the only one, Phil, I’m just the only one saying it, the fear that everyone here lives in, the brutal terror, it scares me, okay, I’ve said it and I am not ashamed.
JOHN TATE: Alright. New rule; that word is banned.
[…]
LOU: You can’t ban a word.
JOHN TATE: and if anyone says it I’m going to have to, you know, bite their face. Or something.
DANNY: How can you ban a word?
JOHN TATE: Well just say it then.
Pause.
Say it and see what happens.
They say nothing.
Look, we have to keep together. We have to trust each other and believe in each other. I’m trying to help. I’m trying to keep things together.
And you’re thinking ‘Will he do anything? What won’t he do?’
And someone’s pegged a stone at him. Not to hit him, just for the laugh.
And you shoulda seen his face, I mean the fear, the, it was so, you had to laugh, the expression, the fear...
So we’re all peggin them. Laughing. And his face, it’s just making you laugh harder and harder, and they’re getting nearer and nearer. And one hits his head. And the shock on his face is so...funny. And we’re all just...
just...
really chucking these stones into him, really hard and laughing and he slips.
And he drops.
He’s not joking, he’s not going, he’s said he’s not going, I said you’ve gotta go, he said he’s not going, ‘I’m not going’ he said.
No, I’m just wondering. I mean what is happy, what’s happy all about, who says you’re supposed to be happy, like we’re all supposed to be happy, happy is our natural, and any deviation from that state is seen as a failure, which in itself makes you more unhappy so you have to pretend to be even happier which doesn’t work because people can see that you’re pretending which makes them awkward and you can see that they can see that you’re pretending to be happy and their awkwardness is making you even more unhappy so you have to pretend to be even happier, it’s a nightmare.
Everything’s much better, though. I mean really, it is. Everyone’s working together. They’re a lot happier. Remember last month, Dan threatened to kill Cathy? well yesterday I saw him showing her his phone, like they were old friends. Last week Richard invited Mark to his party, bring a friend, anyone you like, can you believe that? Richard and Mark? Yep. Everyone’s happier. It’s pouring into the school, grief, grief is making them happy.
PHIL: You’re going in.
BRIAN: No.
PHIL: Yes.
BRIAN: No, Phil –
PHIL: Yes, yes, shhhh, yes. Sorry. You have to go in. Or we’ll take you up the grille. […] We’ll throw you in.
RICHARD: Er, Phil.
DANNY: Is he serious?
LEAH: He’s always serious.
PHIL: We’ll take you up the grille now. Well get you by the arms. By the legs. And we’ll swing you onto the grille. We’ll throw rocks at you until you drop through. You’ll drop through. You’ll fall into the cold. Into the dark. You’ll land on Adam’s corpse and you’ll rot together.
LEAH: It’s incredible. The change. This place. You’re a miracle worker. Everyone’s happy. […] Funny thing is they’re all actually behaving better as well. I saw Jan helping a first year find the gym. Mark’s been doing charity work, for Christ’s sake. Maybe being seen as heroes is making them behave like heroes.
PHIL considers his waffle. Decides it needs more jam.
Yeah, everyone happy. Well it’s not all roses, you know. Brian’s on medication. […] John Tate hasn’t been seen in weeks, and the postman’s facing the rest of his life in prison, but, you know, omelettes and eggs, as long as you’ve your waffle, who cares.
BRIAN: Don’t they eat earth somewhere? Shall we eat the earth? I wonder what earth tastes like, what do you think it, do you think it tastes earthy, or, or...
He bends down to eat a handful of earth. […]
That’s disgusting!
He suddenly starts giggling as he scrapes the earth from his mouth.
CATHY: I dunno how he’s survived, what he’s eaten.
BRIAN: (Like it’s hilarious) He’s probably been eating earth!
He bursts into laughter.
LEAH: How’ve you been living?
ADAM: In the hedge.
LEAH: No, how?
What have you been eating?
ADAM: You can eat anything. I eat things.
Nothing dead, I don’t
insects, grass, leaves, all good, but nothing, I caught a rabbit once and ate that, its fur was soft, warm, but nothing, I found a dead bird and ate some of that but it made me sick so nothing, nothing dead, that’s the rule, nothing
Beat.
What?
BRIAN: That was great!
PHIL: You just do what Cathy says.
BRIAN: I am brilliant at doing what people say.
LEAH: No! Stop, don’t, don’t, Phil, don’t, what are you doing, what are you...
PHIL: He’s dead, everyone thinks he’s dead. What difference will it make?
She stares at him.
LEAH: But he’s not dead. He’s alive.
John Tate’s found God. Yeah, Yeah I know. He’s joined the Jesus Army, he runs round the shopping centre singing and trying to give people leaflets. Danny’s doing work experience at a dentist’s. He hates it. […] Brian’s on stronger and stronger medication. They caught him staring at a wall and drooling last week. […] Cathy doesn’t care. She’s too busy running things. You wouldn’t believe how things have got, Phil. She’s insane. She cut a first year’s finger off, that’s what they say anyway.
Doesn’t that bother you? Aren’t you even bothered?
And in that second, Phil, I knew that there was life on other planets. I knew we weren’t alone in the universe, I didn’t just think it or feel it, I knew it, I know it, it was as if the universe was suddenly shifting and giving me a glimpse, this vision that could see everything, just for a fraction of a heartbeat of a second. But I couldn’t see who they were or what they were doing or how they were living.
How do you think they’re living, Phil?
How do you think they’re living?