The tone is set in the opening scene, which borrows from the final scenes of Henry IV Part II. Knowing his father’s death is imminent, Prince Henry contemplates the weight of responsibility he is about to bear and the importance of warfare in affirming his legitimacy to rule. Although his youthful rebellion is now a thing of the past, his future direction is not yet clear. When slighted by the French court, Henry, now king, determines on a course of action. And once decided, his resolve to carry things through becomes unstoppable, stoking the action and fuelling the consequences.

Alfred Enoch’s delivery of Henry V is thoughtful and measured. He portrays a man who is both ambitious for power and yet who also wants to be fair and honourable; a man who is ruthless in slaughtering those who betray him, but also is capable of self-reflection as he weighs up the risks he asks of his diminished troops at the Battle of Agincourt. If, at times, there is a little too much humanity in Enoch’s performance, his delivery of Henry’s command that all prisoners be killed after the Battle is convincingly brutal.

In a production filled with insight, director Tamara Harvey finds opportunities to look at how others relate to issues of authority and morality. Fluellen, a Welsh officer, played by Sion Pritchard, has an uncompromising sense of justice, as shown in his challenge to the King that the killing of prisoners is unlawful. The Girl, played by Tanvi Virmani, is of humble background and yet is given centre stage to deliver an impassioned monologue about the moral failings of those she is in service to.

Harvey approaches the issue of warfare in a number of ways. Lighting, music and Henry’s presence as an observer contribute to rising tension in advance of battles, whilst the fighting itself is portrayed through full-cast choreographed movement. Stylistically, this feels like a trope that is too well-worn.

But in contrast, there are moments when the barbarity is strikingly real. As Henry reads out the numbers who have died on the field of Agincourt, soldiers around him drop, one by one, to the floor. Even as he applauds the fact that few English soldiers have died, the bodies continue to drop. Finally, only Henry and the Duchess of Gloucester are left, he on his knees and she with a face frozen in horror.

The final image of the play is of Henry’s face displaying the same horror as he realises that the wars he has waged will come to nothing. Harvey’s critique of warfare speaks for itself.

The production makes good use of lighter motifs to balance the sombre mood. The swaggering of the low-ranking soldier Pistol (Paul Hunter) is parodied by his sticky tights and fleshy vest. The Dauphin (Michael Elcock), son of the King of France, is played as a man-about-town, supported by a gang of skulking soldiers, often with hoods covering their faces.

The set is dominated by a large piece of scaffolding, which rotates to add to the dynamism of warfare scenes. Medieval period meets contemporary streetwear in the costumes of soldiers, whilst drapes are used to conjure up the sails of ships and the shelter of military encampments.

Although the role of the chorus has been done away with, its request in Shakespeare’s original text for the audience to use events on stage to picture the reality for themselves could well have found its way into this production. Whilst Harvey has treated this as a history play, we, as the audience, are given more than enough to picture the reality of warfare and to imagine its consequences, even though some of these are yet to come.

Henry V was directed by Tamara Harvey. Set and costume designer was Lucy Osborne. Movement director was Annie-Lunnette Deakin-Foster. Lighting designer was Ryan Day and composer was Jamie Salisbury. It’s on at the RSC, Stratford until 25th April. For further information visit rsc.org.uk.