The Boy Who Harnessed The Wind - Royal Shakespeare Company Review

★★★★☆

The RSC’s latest musical offering, The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, is an adaptation of the true story of Malawian inventor William Kamkwamba. In a theatrical landscape saturated with biographical storytelling, this musical asks audiences to invest not in celebrity but in ingenuity, survival, and community resilience. But can a story driven by hope generate enough theatrical energy to sustain an almost 3-hour musical?

The show follows William as he grows up in rural Malawi, where drought devastates crops, education is a privilege, and famine grips his village. Fascinated by science and desperate to help his family survive, William studies an engineering book and eventually builds a windmill from salvaged materials, bringing electricity to his community. Along the way, food shortages tear apart the community, families are divided, and farming traditions collide with William’s suggestion to adopt modern innovations.

The director (Lynette Linton) and designer (Frankie Bradshaw) wisely resist spectacle for spectacle’s sake. The use of wood, branches, tin roofs, and straw grounds the world in reality, simulating Malawi’s rural landscape without romanticising poverty. What is refreshing about this musical is its trust in live performance as its storytelling driver; the use of physical theatre and choreography is truly remarkable. 

That’s not to say technology fails to enhance the production. Gino Ricardo Green’s video design is highly effective, using subtle projected animations and striking rain sequences in which water appears to bounce off the roof and surrounding surfaces, helping visualise the characters’ journey and experiences. These projections really support the storytelling. However, the inclusion of projected social media notifications and footage from William’s TED Talk feels stylistically out of step with the production’s otherwise organic aesthetic.

Sound plays an equally vital role in the production. The rumble of thunder reverberates through the auditorium, while carefully layered soundscapes convey the impact of drought, with moments of silence used to great effect. Musically, the score has a clear sonic identity built on rhythm, percussion, and communal vocal expression. Chanting, layered harmonies, and percussive vocals combine to create an immersive auditory world that feels both culturally respectful and thoughtfully realised.

Yet this musical cohesion comes with a trade-off: many of the songs blur together. It is hard to distinguish between songs, as no musical numbers stand out as memorable; instead, they blend into a continuous emotional texture. Leaving the theatre, I struggled to recall a specific melody or lyric. For some audiences, this may feel immersive and atmospheric; for others, it takes away from the pleasure of musical theatre. Several songs also revisit established emotional beats and could be tightened or trimmed to help reduce the show’s lengthy runtime.

The ensemble cast is sensational, led by Alistair Nwachukwu, who delivers an emotionally grounded William, balancing youthful curiosity with mounting desperation. His portrayal avoids sentimentality, instead presenting intelligence and vulnerability in equal measure. Crucially, he makes William someone worth rooting for, the emotional engine that keeps the production moving forward.

Opposite him, Idriss Kargbo injects infectious charisma as Gilbert Mofat. His energetic presence provides the necessary tonal contrast, and the friendship between the two boys feels authentic and lived-in. Their dynamic supplies warmth amid the story’s more tragic realities.

A standout vocal moment arrives courtesy of Madeline Appiah as Agnes. The scene in which she chooses to elope cuts through the clutter of the stage, allowing the emotional clarity to shine through. It is one of the moments in the production where music, storytelling, and performance align with precision.

Across the ensemble, the sense of community is palpable. Multi-roling performers shift seamlessly between villagers, authority figures, and symbolic forces, reinforcing one of the production’s central themes: survival is collective. The choreography and physical theatre rank among the evening’s greatest achievements. Hunger manifests as a prowling hyena stalking the stage, while Choolwe Laina Muntanga physically sculpt the presence of wind itself. These moments demonstrate theatre at its most imaginative, translating abstract forces into visual language.

Not every storytelling choice proves as effective. The inclusion of a puppet dog, while skilfully realised, feels narratively unnecessary, adding emotional weight where the central struggle already provides ample stakes. Similarly, certain narrative threads, such as William’s uncle abandoning his family, are introduced with significance but left unresolved, creating loose ends that become the talking point on the drive home, rather than reminiscing about the positives.

Tonally, the production is a piece of uplifting, inspiring family theatre. Its touching message and visual storytelling make it highly accessible for younger audiences, yet intermittent swearing feels unnecessary within an otherwise broadly family-friendly framework. With minor adjustments, this could become an exceptional intergenerational piece. But it also has to be said that the long runtime means leaving the theatre around 10:30, which is not so family-friendly. For me, trimming some of the fat and tying up the loose ends would turn this great musical into an exceptional one. 

Despite these flaws, the achievement here is undeniable. The musical captures resilience without simplification and hope without naïveté. It honours its Malawian setting through movement, design, and sound with evident care, avoiding cultural pastiche in favour of authenticity. Most importantly, it reminds audiences that innovation often emerges not from privilege but necessity.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind is an imperfect but deeply watchable theatrical experience. It is ambitious. It is heartfelt. And it is powered by a remarkable ensemble. Its score may prioritise atmosphere over melody, but its emotional impact lands with genuine force. In telling a story about building power from scraps, the Royal Shakespeare Company has crafted a production that generates its own kind of energy: communal, human, and inspiring.