Review – The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 19th February 2026

Villagers of Wimbe

©Tyler Fayose

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind is the true story of the remarkable William Kamkwamba, who, as a schoolboy living in the poor, drought-stricken village of Wimbe in Malawi, created a windmill out of junk and scraps, thus bringing electricity and water to his community. His story first became known through his blog, then a book, then a film made by Chiwetel Ejiofor, and now it’s a musical, with book and lyrics by Richy Hughes and music and lyrics by Tim Sutton.

Hyena and Khamba

©Tyler Fayose

An inspiring tale about an inspiring young man; and who can resist a stirring story about succeeding against all the odds? His farmer father and his friends all think he is deluded to believe that he can achieve the impossible – but William’s determination and hard work pay off. But this is no simple, Cinderella-style rags to riches story. The toughness, indeed brutality, of the setting is never far away. As the drought kicks in, and food is scarce, William’s constant companion, the stray dog Khamba, dies of starvation. When the village Chief dares to question the methods of political leader Bakili Muluzi, he is beaten up for his pains.

William and Khamba

©Tyler Fayose

And whilst William spends his time tinkering with old bits of machinery, developing the fascination for engineering that will eventually lead to success, his father is furious that, at the ripe old age of 13, he is not toiling the fields alongside him, harvesting the maize that will provide at least some form of income and food for the family. There’s a powerful scene where the farmers are working rigorously together on the fields whilst the boys get in their way, engrossed in understanding how a radio works; each set of characters antagonising the other with their opposing priorities. With hindsight, clearly William and his friends were on the right track – but hindsight is a wonderful thing and doesn’t put food on the table.

Village Life

©Tyler Fayose

Frankie Bradshaw’s set shows Wimbe as an unremarkable village with basic accommodation, offset by a glorious sky. Traps open up from the stage floor to reveal the dry, dusty track of field at which William’s father Trywell relentlessly works. The costumes are evocative of rural Malawi, with a rather smart cloak for the Chief, and colourful but meagre clothing for the rest of the village – although I did think that some of those trainers were perhaps a little stylish and chic for the setting. The lighting, sound and video all combine to give a strong impression of the challenging weather conditions, with some very effective raindrop splashes on the surface of the stage.

Village Life

©Tyler Fayose

The likeable, gifted cast belt out Tim Sutton’s tunes with true gusto, creating some tremendous harmonies and goosebump-inducing sequences, although 90% of it is delivered at supercharged fortissimo volume; there’s no denying it, this is, overall, a very loud show. With a couple of notable exceptions, the songs are, however, incidental to the narrative; undeniably, they add flavour and colour, but they halt the progress of the story rather than drive it forward. Also, given that the story deals with very serious issues – poverty, starvation, malaria, corruption to name but four – I found it surprising that some of the characterisations were pantomime-silly; very effectively done but detracting from the seriousness of the work.

McCallam Connell

©Tyler Fayose

The lead roles, however, are superbly well performed; McCallam Connell brings marvellous authority to the role of the Chief, making his untimely end even more impactful. Tsemaye Bob-Egbe and Owen Chaponda bring a delightful romance to the roles as Annie, William’s sister and Mr Kachigunda, his teacher, with William performing an engaging Go-Between role between the two of them.  Idriss Kargbo brings an element of cheeky vanity to the role of Gilbert Mofat, William’s best friend, and Madeline Appiah is excellent as Agnes, his mother, determined to bring her children up in the modern style; her recovery from malaria is one of the show’s most heartwarming moments.

William and Gilbert

©Tyler Fayose

Alistair Nwachukwu is terrific as William, showing superb comic timing as well as a true feel for the emotions of the piece; an embodiment of quiet resilience and determination through thick and thin. For me, the stand-out performance is by Sifiso Mazibuko as William’s father Trywell, battered by contrasting needs and wishes, a traditional, honest fellow just trying to do his best. Sutton and Hughes give him the best song of the night, This I Know, a soaring ballad of epic proportions that wouldn’t be out of place in Les Mis.

Agnes and Trywell

©Tyler Fayose

Despite all these excellent elements, aspects of the show didn’t quite work for me. The staging is sometimes cluttered, even chaotic, with too many people on stage at the same time, especially in the big musical/dance numbers; and sometimes the ebullience and enthusiasm of what’s going on simply descends into what feels like an uncontrolled mess. Also, it’s way too long – three hours including the interval – and although it tells the story clearly, it also tells it very slowly! The slow pace strangely diminished the emotional aspect of the story and I found myself surprisingly unmoved by some of those moments clearly meant to give you a lump in the throat.

Success!

©Tyler Fayose

That said, the show does come to a triumphant conclusion with the assembly of the windmill and the switching-on of the lights, and it would be a hard-hearted person who didn’t share in the moment of victory as William and Trywell mount the steps up to the top of the windmill to partake in its glory. Certainly, Messrs Nwachukwu and Mazibuko were fighting back the emotions (not entirely successfully!) at the end. But maybe that’s because they knew that Mr Nwachukwu was to bring on the real-life William Kamkwamba to join them on stage for the final bows – and that was undoubtedly a moment to treasure.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind plays at the Swan Theatre until 28th March, and then it transfers to the Soho Place in London from 25th April to 18th July.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The Winter’s Tale, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 22nd July 2025

A moon – or is it a planet? – stares down at us; huge, nebulous, ominous, as we enter the auditorium for Yaël Farber’s production of Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale. It reminds us that we are tiny people minimised by this great celestial influence; and wherever we go or whatever we do, we can’t escape it. It’s as old as Time – one of the play’s main themes – and it sets the tone for a certain otherworldliness for this production, which seems to put most of its theatrically inventive eggs in one basket – Act Four – leaving the rest of the play to fend for itself.

Time/AutolycusI always worry when an RSC production announces that Time will be one of its central themes – yes, I’m looking at you Macbeth – because it can overwhelm all the other aspects of the play. However, here, the emphasis on Time is neatly and appropriately placed, wrapping the Chorus and the character of Autolycus into one character. The Winter’s Tale features one of Shakespeare’s most curious structures for a play. Three Acts of tragedy, then a sixteen-year pause followed by two Acts of comedy; four Acts in the Sicilian court, one Act playing pastoral in Bohemia. This production makes a point of highlighting these contrasts, which not only makes for a visual spectacle, but deliberately unsettles the audience trying to bring both parts of the play into balance.

StatuesqueIt’s among Shakespeare’s least cosy comedies, with destructive jealousy, a wife turned into a statue, an amiable son killed, and the frequent appearance of Time, reminding us to enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think. Indeed, the production does take a few liberties which might annoy the purist. Not only that aforementioned popular song from the 1940s, but they’ve inserted a little Brecht, and there’s an exchange between Autolycus and the Clown that includes the insults bellend and wanker. It’s mildly amusing; fortunately, the play is big and strong enough to survive the occasional meddling.

CamilloBut the production is at its most effective when it leaves the work to Shakespeare. The chilling story of Leontes’ idiotic suspicions that his wife Hermione has been unfaithful with his brother Polixenes and that his brother is the father of Hermione’s unborn child is told with quiet, dignified clarity. After the interval we leave Sicilia for the ritualistic fire and dance fiesta that is Perdita hosting the sheep-shearing solstice festival; the programme notes tell us that the production explores Perdita’s connection to the myth of Persephone/Proserpina. Hold that thought. When we return to Sicilia for the final resolution, all is sedate again.

FiestaIt’s very clever dramaturgy, and there’s no doubting the visual and indeed musical impact of the solstice scene; but it’s such a contrast to what went before that, more than standing out like a sore thumb, it actually feels unintegrated with the rest of the play. After the lean, business-like atmosphere of the first act, this just feels like so much padding. Whilst watching it I could only question how this portrayal of the union of Perdita and Florizel, and the subsequent disapproval by Polixenes, in any way helps our understanding of the plot. I don’t think it does. Fortunately, the final “statue” scene is presented and acted immaculately, and that’s what you remember when you go home.

AntigonusThere is little in the way of set – and that works to the production’s advantage. All the changes of mood and setting are suggested by Tim Lutkin’s lighting design and Reuben Cohen and Oli Quintrell’s video projections. The incidental music composed by Max Perryment is hugely evocative and contributes enormously to the atmosphere and storytelling; there’s suspense in every chord.

Polixenes and LeontesA strong cast brings class and gravitas to the main roles. Bertie Carvel is excellent as Leontes – seemingly affable, flipping into viciously jealous in an instant. With his reputation at stake, this Leontes shuts himself off from all reason, delivering indiscriminate cruelty in all directions. Like a divine version of BBC Verify, when the words of the Oracle deliver their verdict on the innocence of Hermione and Polixenes, and the tyranny of Leontes, his fragile world simply falls apart. In these times of fake news and AI deception, it would be very useful to have a reliable Oracle like that come in every so often to make us see the truth.

HermioneMadeline Appiah is superb as Hermione; gracious, kindly, the perfect hostess, who gathers magnificent internal resolve in the face of her husband’s stupidity and vindictiveness. And she makes a fantastic statue; every eye in the Royal Shakespeare Theatre concentrates on her to see if she makes a tiny move and there isn’t an iota of a blink. There’s a very touching scene at the end when Hermione and Perdita are reunited, Ms Appiah’s joy at seeing her long lost daughter almost brought a tear to the eye – as did the excellent Amelda Brown as her “foster” shepherdess parent, knowing she must give back the daughter who was always only ever “on loan”.

PaulinaAïcha Kossoko brings power and a no-nonsense grimness to the role of Paulina, stepping in to protect her friend Hermione’s reputation and whatever future might be ahead. Great performances too from John Light as the wronged Polixenes and Raphael Sowole’s delicately spoken and faithful Camillo. Trevor Fox brings out all the mischief and cheerful lawlessness of his chain-smoking Autolycus, and there’s nice support from Leah Haile’s Perdita and Matthew Flynn’s Antigonus.

Perdita and FlorizelIt’s a moody, atmospheric production that tells its story clearly, apart from a total flight of fantasy in Act Four which just left me wondering why. But if you ever wanted a clear account of the characters of Leontes and Hermione so that you fully understand their story, this is the production for you.

P. S. Not so much exit pursued by a bear, more exit, listlessly observed by an indolent bear. But it’s very hard to act out that stage direction credibly.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

3-starsThree-sy Does It!