So this is it. The RSC's epic undertaking, to have one ensemble of 34 actors perform all 264 roles in Shakespeare's eight history plays, is complete. It's a glorious, celebration-worthy achievement, even if it here reaches a less than stirring conclusion.

Henry V has long been a barometer of national self-confidence. When the tide was turning in the Second World War, Olivier was all pomp, patriotism and circumstance. At the height of uncertainty about Iraq, Nicholas Hytner had Adrian Lester as a guilt-wracked monarch. So how are we doing now? Middling, is director Michael Boyd's answer: there's a war to be won on foreign shores and we shouldn't be ashamed about waging it, but nor should we gloat in victory.

It is a reasonable line to take but such neutrality means few strong emotions are aroused. There's little crowd-pleasing jingoism in the big speeches, nor sufficient moral equivocation. Thus the lengthy running time starts to hang heavily and we begin to notice the play's structural flaws, most glaringly how there is far too much talking - and messing about with leeks - once Agincourt has been lost and won.

The default setting for Geoffrey Streatfeild's Henry is efficiency. This is a man who, once decided on missions martial and, eventually, amorous, wants to get the deal sealed in haste. Black clad, he's barely distinguishable from his "band of brothers", with a chilling demeanour that defies anyone to mention erstwhile Eastcheap exploits. Slightly more warmth in Streatfeild's account would help to explain such a statistically implausible English victory.

Good things do eventually emerge from Tom Piper's design but his basic concept, of a giant, rusty industrial cylinder complete with internal staircase, isn't an appealing one, even if it does allow the lithe Streatfeild to leap around like an action hero for "Once more unto the breach".

Far better is the foppish, silk-clad French court, dangling high above the stage on swings, and the climactic battle when the English mount ladders and the flight of lethal arrows is represented by streamers of crepe paper that billow out over the stalls.

Forbes Masson makes an engaging Chorus and Jonathan Slinger a proud Welsh nationalist of a Fluellen but the centre isn't quite strong enough to hold together these disparate supporting elements. I suggest further square bashing for Henry and his men before next year's London transfer.

• In rep until 16 March. Information: 0844 800 1110, www.rsc.org.uk.