Review of ‘Cow | Deer’: “ASMR staging puts audiences in a state of foley à deux”

The Royal Court Theatre welcomes this new experimental play employing sound as its only narrative tool. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show to let us know if its environmentalist plot turns out to be all hat and no cattle.

If hearing has recently become an expendable option at the Royal Court’s main space, its studio theatre has turned that ability into a deal-breaker for anyone wanting to witness its environmentalist tale starring two unrelated ruminants. The title is no metaphor — it is literally and exclusively about a cow and deer, and all that this entails. They eat, they sleep, they do their business in nature, and they sometimes come across humans for their sins — and also, to their demise.

There’s no question that the Royal Court has honoured its experimental ethos and taken it into a whole new dimension with this piece. Yes, we’ve seen other things on a similar level before, from debatable forms of spectacle, where a play is reduced to a mere exposé that could easily pass for a TED Talk, to hardly comprehensible portrayals of mental turmoil. And as with every lab test, the formula can react the right way or instead blow up so recklessly that audiences can’t help but be its main collateral damage.

Fortunately, Katie Mitchel, Nina Segal, and Melanie Wilson’s joint effort has concocted a more stable compound through this atmospheric tribute to nature and animalism. It’s still far from making me a vegan, though. Yet, its underlying advocacy for the better treatment of other species resonated with me nonetheless.

The show does an excellent job of transporting the viewer (or, more precisely, the listener) into a three-dimensional reality where all their senses are fully immersed. You don’t even need to close your eyes (though you’re welcome to) in order to enjoy the entire experience. An intricate POV frame gradually emerges inside your mind. At some moments, you’re a heavily pregnant cow (I’m not being sassy, it’s just the character) going through her everyday at a farm; while at others, you can feel in your own skin the hardships of the wild, and their constant strife for survival in a world where humankind is their most dangerous threat.

The extraordinary coordination that its 5-piece cast flaunts is what makes the rendition as evocative as it is believable. Their interpretation consists of nothing more than a few traditional radio and cinematic tricks: the humping of a robe to emulate the sound of wagging tail; the kneading of plastic strands to suggest the cow and deer’s chewing of the grass; and the steady cadence of wooden blocks to represent the gentle trotting beat of their hooves. Some additional effects come and go, with the help of a few prerecorded tracks, but there are no more elements contributing to the narrative other than the audience’s own imagination.

There’s no formal storyline — you are expected to make your own from the inputs you receive. Or at least, that’s the way I’ve taken it. It’s a powerful tool sometimes. Not knowing for a fact what’s going on and relying solely on what your instincts tell you is both an essence of drama and nature itself. And at some key moments, what’s implied, much like in Bambi‘s childhood trauma-generating moment, holds more pathos than what could be said.

But while all these achievements fairly deserve acknowledgment, the piece still remains closer to a well-executed germinal idea than a fully developed show. It creates vivid images in people’s heads, and there is an arc that, though slightly blurred, is consistent. Yet, the engagement starts to wear down through the middle of the performance, as many bits become repetitive and offer no further excitement or novelty. Consequently, the play gradually loses its appeal, and when it reaches its conclusion, its weak, unstimulating ending leaves us with a bittersweet array of emotions. There are parts that were compelling, even inspiring. But, on the whole, something more pungent and enduring is noticeably missing.

Regaling audiences with some endearing illusions but milking all its resources to the extreme without bringing enough variety, Cow | Deer builds an interesting assortment of theatrical possibilities. Yet, its incapability to trim the fat and deliver a richer, more detailed exploration of both its themes and techniques leads to an uncomfortable oxymoron of bland brilliance. It’s stag-gering at some points. But in general, not that fawn-tastic.

All pictures credit to Camilla Greenwell.

Cow | Deer plays at London’s Royal Court Theatre until 11 October. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara