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Please note: I am not a professional theatre critic; I wrote this review to express my thoughts on the show in a more formal and coherent manner than usual. This review does not include any spoilers for those familiar with the events of The Silmarillion.

Válka hněvu picks up where last year’s Zrada! Smrt! Láska! (Betrayal! Death! Love!) left off: prompted by Eärendil and Elwing’s pleas, the Valar resolve to send aid to the ailing Peoples of Middle-earth to free them from Morgoth’s Shadow. The armies of the West under the leadership of Eönwë, Ingwion and Finarfin eventually join the remnants of the Free Peoples, led by Círdan and Gil-galad. Rather than achieving their goal in a single decisive confrontation with the Enemy, however, they are confined to skirmishes and to years upon years of waiting for Something, until the Valar finally intervene directly by reshaping the continent, which at last leads to Morgoth’s downfall and the recovery of the Silmarils. What should feel like a true victory is not savoured by any of the Peoples: with their homelands drowned, their spirits broken by centuries of hardship, and their families sundered, the survivors grapple with what it means to be free from thralldom, oaths and bans. Choices are made, continents raised, and creations cast aside. The show ends with the final words of the Quenta Silmarillion and thus covers the entirety of the War of Wrath and the end of the First Age.

All in all, the show runs about three hours and ten minutes across three acts, yet it never feels overlong. It is very well paced, leaving room for reflection while steadily moving through the decades, and it is evenly balanced, allowing for deep emotions as well as light-hearted, almost comedic elements, both of which are typical of Falešné společenstvo’s musicals. This is achieved by fleshing out textually under-developed characters, filling in the blanks between “canonical” events, and simultaneously reflecting on the absurdity of life in a war of that scale.

A prominent example of successful characterisation is Elros (brilliantly portrayed by Isilien), who develops from a Fëanorian protégé into a “super-facilitator” between the Peoples and ultimately, makes the Choice that would sunder his and his twin Elrond’s Fates forever. From his first song with Elrond and Maglor, “Hlasitě mlčme” (“The Loud Silence”), to his final plea to Eru (the contents of which I shall not reveal), the strong book, together with Isilien’s presence and vocals (particularly striking in tandem with Filoména’s Elrond in the aforementioned number) make Elros a standout character among kings, lords, and other fan favourites. Silmarillion connoisseurs will also appreciate the wealth of recognisable figures populating the background, who are never named explicitly, but are instantly identifiable, like for example Nerdanel. Additionally, many original characters are given the spotlight (and names) as well, among them Men, who speak in many different accents (beautifully rendered in the English subtitles), and Orcs.

Before moving on to the comedic elements, I would like to note a few other outstanding performances: Tani as Maedhros and Elsa as Maglor, reprising their roles, continue their characters’ arcs from earlier musicals with masterful vocals and unparallelled acting finesse; Polly as Morgoth, full of malice and trickery, impressively conveys this through body language and movements; and Aredhel as Círdan and Jana as Finarfin give performances in which facial expressions tell the story as clearly as their lines, particularly during their first meeting, when Finarfin learns of his relatives’ gruesome deaths.

Between the many emotionally wrenching moments, however, there are plenty of scenes that lighten the mood without tipping the show into farce: among them, the landing of the Valinorian army, during which the soldiers’ frantic marching in circles is accompanied by a deadpan train-announcer voice; the tribulations of the Orcs, forced to report the flooding and loss of Beleriand to an increasingly exasperated Morgoth; and the ordeal of one of Maedhros and Maglor’s last loyal followers, who has to maintain order amid falling rocks and despairing lords in a world coming apart at the seams.

The excellent writing and stunning performances are supplemented by clever stagecraft such as projections, puppets and miniatures (which conjure scale that the stage cannot), lovingly crafted costumes (Finarfin’s overcoat is especially gorgeous), meaningful and sometimes silly set pieces and props (respect to all involved in creating the Silmarils and binding the scrolls), expressive dance choreography (oh, that moment with the Silmaril!) and beautifully played live music. Noteworthy songs include “Vanyalindë I–III”, “Sirotci” and “Tak jsi to chtěl”, distinguished by clear dramaturgical functions (such as: to give the audience goosebumps, to rip the audience members’ hearts out, etc.), and instantly memorable (memorability being a bonus, not an expectation).

★★★★★+ masterpiece

Overall, Válka hněvu succeeds by choosing intimacy over spectacle. In that tiny gym, it delivers a Silmarillion rooted in inner lives – oaths weighed, mercies debated, victories measured by their costs. It is not grandiose. It does not involve stunts or battle scenes. Rather, it finds power in voices, glances and choices. Do not even let the long runtime deter you, for it is well worth your time. The passion everyone involved has for Tolkien’s works is evident in every note, and the miracle that is the creation of a thoroughly coherent piece of theatre by so many contributors is well worth beholding.

If you can fully understand and appreciate the show if you are not familiar with The Silmarillion, though, I cannot tell. In any case, you will miss out on countless references and allusions.