This is our time. Here we are in the now—not on the blood-soaked battlefields of history, but in a world where young men fight their own inner demons.
Marion Potts deliberately and insightfully reimagines Shakespeare’s England in the context of toxic masculinity in the post-#MeToo era. The brutish demands placed on men as they prepare for war are starkly emphasized. Her edits ensure that war is ever-present. The production opens in a harsh, industrial gym, where punching bags hang ominously from chains. Yet, the metallic scaffolding evokes something colder—an abattoir or clinical mortuary, foreshadowing the bodies that will soon be sacrificed. Later, the battlefield takes on the slick sheen of fresh blood, spilled from a bucket.
The fight sequences are visceral and dynamic, (Movement and fight direction by Nigel Poulton) culminating in Henry dragging himself from a brutal pile-on.
His victory, however, is hollow—his own soldiers remain unconvinced, including one who met him in disguise and continues to quietly reject his leadership. JK Kazzi’s Henry lacks the expected magnetism of a king searching for himself; at times, he feels more like a shallow, self-absorbed “lad’s lad.” Hopefully, as the production settles, Kazzi’s performance will find greater depth.
Henry’s attempt to unite France comes in the form of his final claim: Princess Katherine (Ava Maddon), offered as the victor’s spoil. This moment is often played as a romantic exchange, reminiscent of Richard and Anne’s twisted courtship. Here, however, it is laid bare as a violation—its discomfort as stark and unsettling as the infamous actions of the Spanish women’s football coach. There is nothing remotely consensual.
The decision to have the French characters speak in French, with surtitles, is a brilliant one. It not only underscores the cultural divide but also allows for greater appreciation of the comic relief found in Katherine and her maid’s playful attempts to master the English language in preparation for life after the war.
Henry is both abuser and abused, shaped by the expectations of war. He only expresses remorse for battle when his supposed defeat is reframed as victory. The direction is sharp, the pacing effective, and Potts’ cuts to the text are intelligent and engaging. The chorus, delivered as direct address, creates a fresh and modern interpretation, with multiple characters stepping into the role as commentators—offering reflections on war from both within and outside of it, yet never without bias. It is clever and captivating.
Jethro Woodward’s sound design is hauntingly effective, while Verity Hampson’s lighting masterfully transports us into the chaos of battle. The set and costume design (Anna Tregloan) firmly ground the production in the present, reinforcing the play’s contemporary relevance.
Henry 5 runs at the Playhouse, Sydney Opera House, until April 5, before touring Wollongong, Canberra, and Melbourne.
Images by Brett Boardman.
CREATIVES:
Director Marion Potts
Set and Costume Designer, Anna Tregloan
Composer and Sound Designer, Jethro Woodward
Lighting Designer, Verity Hampson
Voice Director, Jack Starkey-Gill
CAST:
JK Kazzi King Henry
Odile le Clézio Alice/Ensemble
Jack Halabi Dauphin/Ensemble
Alex Kirwan Westmoreland/Ensemble
Ava Madon Katherine/Ensemble
Harrison Mills Michael Williams/Scroop
Ella Prince Exeter/Ensemble
Jo Turner King of France/Ensemble
Mararo Wangai Montjoy/Ensemble
Rishab Kern Grey/English Soldier/Understudy
Ziggy Resnick Grey/English Soldier/Understudy
