Although I can’t say I’ve ever been called uncultured, I’m still a cultural virgin in many respects. I’ve never gone to the ballet, and my last brush with opera resulted in a 3rd act power nap (it was four hours long and in French, just saying). I’ve also never picked up Shakespeare, let alone sat through one of his plays. So when Max procured a ticket for Henry V, I took the opportunity and popped my Shakespearean cherry. As expected it was dramatic. (Zing!)

Many of the cast’s comedic performances were stellar, extracting copious amounts of laughter from the audience, particularly adorably funny Oliver Ford Davies as Chorus, Joshua Richards as a chatter-boxy Fluellen and Jennifer Kirby as an infantile, alas delightful Katherine.

Most other French parts were also hilarious, albeit borderline offensive. But it’s a play about the English ripping the French a new one, written in 1599, so I guess I’ll let it slide. The audience certainly did, as during their performances LOLs echoed all round and for a few brief moments, we were transformed back to Shakespearean times, where this play would have been executed in front of nasty hecklers and gangs of riff raff, busy heaving, shoving, winking and smiling. Good times.

Music, costumes, sets and effects were similarly brilliant and really added to the experience.

But performances of the more serious dramatic roles, particularly that of Henry V, performed by Alex Hassel, were surprising. Sure, I’m not a Shakespeare buff, (even though I’ll have you know I have watched both Shakespeare in Love, and Anonymous, so I’m somewhat of an expert). I was, however, expecting a rendition of king Henry as strong, mighty, possibly sporting a mohawk, kicking ass and taking names, you know, oozing national pride. Instead I saw a childlike psychopath, voice breaking every so often, going through emotional states like a nymphomaniac through sets of linen. His performance made Henry V seem dark, twisted and possibly a bit unhinged, which is a far cry from what I assume Shakespeare was aiming for when creating the character, given that probably would have been a capital crime back in good ol’ Elizabethan England.

But I personally liked it, finding it an accurate depiction of monarchy.

So, if you’d like to see a play SPOILER ALERT about a young royal sociopath who gets so angry after receiving a box of tennis balls from the French prince that he decides to declare war on said prince’s kingdom, which he somehow miraculously wins and proceeds to awkwardly court and marry the French princess (who I think is also his cousin?), then this is the play for you.

Verdict: 7⁄10 hobnobs*

*Yes, hob and nob first came together in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night – Thanks, Internet.

Until 24th January at the Barbican

Tickets from £5 for under 25’s