There’s nothing pastoral about Cow, a documentary from director Andrea Arnold that immerses us in the life of a cow and her calf on a farm in England. Whereas something like Gunda, about a mother pig in Norway, tempered the animal’s fate with gorgeous, black-and-white cinematography and carefully composed shots, Cow unceremoniously shoves us right into the haunches of its title creature. A jostling camera hovers around the animal like a fly, the cow spends her days getting poked, prodded, milked by machines, and moved through an endless maze of metal fences. The only music comes from the pop songs occasionally played on the shed’s speakers; the only words are the passing comments we hear from farm workers. We’re meant to experience all this as the cow does: in docile confusion. Or is the cow experiencing more? An October 2022 National Geographic cover story detailed scientists’ increased understanding of the complexity of animal emotions. Watching Cow after reading that article makes for an alarming experience, especially when the cow’s newborn calf is taken away and she appears to low in extreme distress. Or when that calf, after having a hot iron pressed on its head during dehorning, shoves itself among the other calves and begins frantically licking them as an apparent coping device. (Of course, as the National Geographic article acknowledges, I could also be reading my own emotions into these actions.) Even as Arnold (Wuthering Heights, American Honey) brings a tactile attention to such moments, however, Cow never quite feels like a vegan screed. It’s more matter-of-fact, right up to the expected yet still devastating final moments. The movie wants us to see how the butter is made, nothing more and nothing less.
(11/16/2022)
