Henry V (stylized as Henry 5 in this production) is inarguably one of William Shakespeare’s most martial works. First performed somewhere between 1599 and 1605, there’s debate over whether the play is a deliberate act of nationalistic propaganda – certainly, its initial staging came at a time of English military adventurism, particularly in Ireland and against the Spanish. And Shakespeare, who benefited from royal approval from both Elizabeth I and James I, knew which side of the bread his butter was on. It’s always been popular in times of war – Sir Laurence Olivier’s 1944 film adaptation came mere months after the Allied invasion of Normandy, and leans into the stirring patriotism, the blood and the thunder.
The text itself is deliciously ambiguous – occasionally frustratingly so in a time when, culturally, audiences demand straight lines and clear demarcations of morality. Kicking off Bell Shakespeare’s 2025 season, this latest production bucks that trend. Former Associate Artistic Director Marion Potts returns to the company after a 15-year absence to direct this carefully concentrated version. It excises many characters and subplots (farewell, Pistol and the lads from the Boar’s Head) and, of course, keeps the sinew-stiffening and blood-summoning speeches, but leans into the cost of war, taking pains to underscore the horrors.
It's 1415 or thereabouts, and newly crowned King Henry (newcomer JK Kazzi), having been convinced in a very funny scene of his claim to certain lands in France by the Archbishop of Canterbury (Jo Turner, who pulls double “out-of-touch-authority-figure” duty as the King of France), prepares to press his claim with military might.
This is a very physical take on Henry V... fresher than most
The actual inciting incident, however, is an insulting gift from the French Dauphin (heir to the throne), Louis, Duke of Guyenne (Jack Halabi), delivered by the French herald, Montjoy (Mararo Wangai) – a box of tennis balls (a somewhat puzzling reference, to modern audiences at least) to Henry’s dissolute and wayward youth. The new King will have none of that, of course, and so it’s off to France, the Siege of Harfleur, and the Battle of Agincourt, pausing briefly early in the business to execute two traitors, demonstrating that this King does not mess about – he might be young, and charming, but he’s ruthless when he needs to be.
That’s the crux of this adaptation – not that scene, but that portrayal of Henry. For all that he talks of honour and glory, he’s viciously pragmatic when he needs to be, and doesn’t blink when it comes to spending the lives of common men in pursuit of his goals.
There’s a marked contrast in the two key speeches – the “once more unto the breach” one delivered prior to the Siege of Harfleur, and the St Crispin’s Day speech at Agincourt. The former is an invigorating call to battle, the latter a more melancholy one where Henry, having previously slipped among the ranks in disguise and learned that his men doubt both him and his odds of success, and at least briefly ponders the cost of failure. It doesn’t last – this Henry is all about W.I.N.N.I.N.G and is largely blind to his own privileges. His one moment of real grief comes when he learns of the death of his friend and advisor, Westmoreland (Alex Kirwan) from his uncle, Exeter (Ella Prince) – that was a real guy, not a faceless footsoldier!
Ella Prince, by the way, remains Bell’s MVP here, as they were in supporting roles in both A Midsummmer Night’s Dream and The Comedy of Errors, and I think it’s high time they got a leading role in one of these things.
This is a very physical take on Henry V – the cast mainly muscled-up young men, the sparse set by Anna Tregloan dominated by a couple of heavy punching bags, the costumes (Tregloan again) a cross between athletic leisurewear and tacticool military gear. The actors embrace that masculine physicality, always sparring, wrestling, reveling in their prowess. But of the entire company, Prince wrestles best with the language. There’s always a risk, particularly with younger actors, that Shakespeare’s dialogue can come across as being recited rather than said. Kazzi as Henry struggles with this a bit (although a neat bit of physical business with a tennis ball early on is noteworthy), but Prince never does, and having now seen them in three supporting roles for Bell, I have to say it’s time they took centre stage.
Also noteworthy is Ava Maddon as the French Princess Katharine, who winds up wed to Henry as part of the peace treaty that ends the play – and if you want to call her a spoil of war, she would agree. Her “courtship” scene with Henry is quietly troubling, as Maddon’s performance ensures we understand how helpless she is, and how aware of that helplessness. She’s being married off to this warlike English barbarian, and there’s nothing she can do about it.
Angles like these ensure that this production is fresher than most. There’s a lot to praise in the technical details, too – Jethro Woodward’s somber, ominous score is a banger, the staging of both key battles are remarkable – but it’s the way that Potts and her team seem ambivalent about the value of Henry’s honour, and the cost of it, that will spark the most interesting post-show conversations.
Henry 5 is playing at Sydney Opera House until April 5, before touring to Canberra Theatre Centre (April 10–20) and Arts Centre Melbourne May (11–25). Tickets are on sale over here.
Stay in the loop: sign up for our free Time Out Sydney newsletter for more news, food & drink inspo and activity ideas, straight to your inbox.
