Acts 3-4: Escalation & the Ending
Act 3: Adam Is Alive
The turning point of DNA comes in Act 3 when the group discovers that Adam is not dead. He survived the fall and has been living in the woods, alone and traumatised. This should be good news — nobody has actually committed murder. But the group’s reaction is the opposite of relief. Adam’s survival threatens the cover-up. If he comes forward, the group will be exposed: they have already framed an innocent postman, who is facing the rest of his life in prison.
Kelly uses this reversal to expose the depth of the group’s moral corruption. Instead of being grateful that Adam is alive, they now see him as a problem to be solved. The cover-up has become more important than the person at the centre of it. This is one of the play’s most devastating insights: once a lie takes hold, the truth becomes the enemy.
Adam is found alive in Act 3, but the group sees his survival as a threat, not a relief. If Adam talks, their cover-up unravels: the framed postman, Brian’s false statement, and their own lies will all be exposed. The cover-up has become more important than Adam himself.
Phil’s Darker Orders
Phil’s response to Adam’s survival marks a significant moral escalation. In Act 1, his plan involved deception — framing an innocent person, which is serious but does not directly harm anyone physically. In Act 3, Phil considers a far darker solution. He instructs the group to keep Adam hidden and, it is strongly implied, orders them to kill him.
Kelly never uses the word “kill.” Instead Phil pulls a plastic bag over Brian’s head to show him how, tells him to do whatever Cathy says, and sends the pair off to “make a game of it” with Adam. This deliberate ambiguity is a key feature of Kelly’s writing style. By not spelling out the order, he forces the audience to confront the possibility themselves — and in doing so, makes them complicit in imagining the worst.
Phil’s trajectory across the play mirrors the group’s moral decline. In Act 1, he is a strategist; by Act 3, he is potentially ordering murder. Each act requires a greater moral compromise. The group, having already crossed the line with the cover-up, finds it psychologically easier to take the next step. This echoes the psychological concept of the foot-in-the-door effect — once people have complied with a small request, they are more likely to comply with a larger one.
Kelly also shows that Phil’s power has become self-sustaining. By Act 3, nobody questions him — not because he threatens them, but because they have already invested too much in his leadership to turn back. They are trapped by their own earlier compliance.
Cathy’s Violence
Cathy is the most disturbing character in DNA. While other group members show varying degrees of guilt, Cathy is energised by the situation. In Act 3, she reports back from the woods with visible excitement, describing events in graphic terms. She shows no remorse and appears to enjoy the power that violence gives her.
Kelly uses Cathy to explore the idea that group pressure does not simply force people into immoral acts — for some, it provides permission to reveal impulses that were already there. Cathy thrives in the moral vacuum created by the crisis. She volunteers for the most unpleasant tasks and takes pleasure in them. In Act 3 she is on television and treated like a celebrity, and by Act 4 she is running the group and has cut off a first year’s finger. Kelly suggests that in a society that rewards confident, assertive people, characters like Cathy can succeed precisely because they lack empathy.
Cathy is the only character who actively enjoys the violence and chaos. She shows no guilt, volunteers for the worst tasks, and is excited by events others find horrifying. Kelly uses her to suggest that group pressure can give some people permission to express cruelty they already possessed.
Act 4: The Bleak Ending
The final act of DNA offers no redemption. Richard reports the aftermath to Phil in the field: the group has fragmented. John Tate has “found God” and joined the Jesus Army. Brian is on stronger and stronger medication and may be sectioned. Danny is doing work experience at a dentist’s and hates it. Leah has gone; people say she moved schools. Phil is not eating any more — he simply stares into the distance. Cathy is running things now, and Richard says she cut a first year’s finger off.
Richard, who has replaced Leah in the field scenes, tries to talk to Phil, mirroring Leah’s earlier attempts. He even walks on his hands to get a reaction. Phil does not look at him. Richard’s last words are “Come back, Phil. Phil?” Phil says nothing, and the play ends on this image of total emotional shutdown.
Kelly deliberately avoids a conventional resolution. Nobody is punished. Nobody confesses. The innocent postman’s fate is unresolved. Adam’s fate is implied but never confirmed. The characters simply move on with their lives, carrying varying degrees of damage. Kelly’s message is deeply pessimistic: society does not automatically correct moral failures. People can do terrible things, avoid consequences, and continue to function.
The replacement of Leah with Richard in the final field scene is particularly significant. The play’s moral conscience has been silenced and replaced by someone who is more naively curious than ethically tormented. Kelly suggests that the capacity for genuine moral questioning (Leah) is rarer and more fragile than passive acceptance (Richard).
Leah’s Disappearance
Leah’s absence in Act 4 is one of the play’s most haunting details. At the end of Act 3 she spits out the sweet Phil offers her and storms off. In Act 4 Mark tells Jan she went last week: “Moved schools. That’s what people are saying.” Nobody knows for certain, and nobody goes after her. Her exit confirms that the one voice of moral conscience has been silenced, and the group is poorer for it.
Richard’s flat report that Cathy is “running things” while Brian is drugged and staring at walls creates a bitter irony. The character who showed the least remorse is the one who thrives. Kelly uses this to make a pointed social commentary: in a world that rewards confidence and punishes doubt, moral sensitivity is a disadvantage.