Cow

A show with Friendly the furry cow, in Underbelly Cowgate. It works – but it’s not innovative, it’s twee. Cow is a pleasant show, trundling along as Beth (Jessica Barker-Wren) describes her return to rural Devon from cosmopolitan London. Mum’s dead, Dad’s on the way out; Beth is all alone to look after the farm. Sorry, not alone – she has Friendly.

A competent storyteller, Barker-Wren bumbles along Miranda Hart-style, chopping down trees and borrowing a tractor from the grown-up school friends she left behind. Engaging and sparkly, Barker-Wren comfortably inhabits the physicality and mannerisms of her West Country stereotypes. But the story itself has no meat, despite an overabundance of livestock.

Barker-Wren jumps between past and present with little in Lucy Wray’s direction to distinguish between the two. The ongoing commentary establishes an audience connection, but fails to deliver anything more substantial than passing thoughts and opinions. Each time the scene changes, there is a folk song interlude, or a nostalgic memory, all of which are too long to have any lasting impact.

Meat is murder, dairy is rape and Friendly the cow will never be killed or sold. The faithful, static animal displaces the abject loneliness Beth feels with no parents left. Barker-Wren brings her oddities to life in Cow, talking frankly to imaginary kids about BSE and the affection for her animals. The final few minutes deliver a poignant twist that the rest of this beige production lacks.