“An ambitious reflection on human nature.”
What is it about suddenly encountering a majestic wild animal that sets all of our senses alight? Why does time seem to freeze and is perceived by us as a dreamlike, even spiritual, experience? Is it the collision of awe and terror all at once?
Such encounters are rare in the modern world. We no longer rely on passed-down survival rituals or the daily hunt for food and shelter. But could these moments with wild animals help us make sense of our repressed emotions and unmet desires? This is the central question at the heart of The Walrus Has a Right to Adventure, written by Billie Collins and directed by Nathan Crossan-Smith. Told through a series of interwoven vignettes, the play invites its audience to reflect on the value of instinct and intuition.
We follow Oskar, Rio, and Hazel — three people living their lives in different parts of the world. Rio (Tasha Dowd), a young, queer person from Liverpool, is in a loving relationship with the effervescent Lacey but feels an unnamed absence. Oskar (Reginald Edwards), a hardworking Norwegian tour guide, quietly harbors feelings for Ingrid from the ticket office while struggling to pay the costs of his elderly father’s care. Hazel (Princess Khumalo), a reserved young woman living in Colorado Springs, is under pressure from her long-term boyfriend to try conceiving again after a miscarriage. Though their lives are unconnected, each is about to encounter a wild animal — and be irrevocably changed.
The trio of actors is undoubtedly talented, moving fluidly between scenes and characters. Uniquely, the cast not only performs but also creates live soundscapes at the back of the stage, while seamlessly switching roles to portray a range of minor characters across the play’s three settings. They’re constantly active — crafting atmosphere, managing props, and preparing entrances — and while this is impressive, a couple of small slip-ups made me wonder if they were being stretched too thin. The set itself is deceptively simple: three large wooden boxes at the rear double as sound desks and storage. At several points, the play underscores the characters’ shared emotional threads through slow-motion, non-verbal sequences set to music, enhanced by ethereal lighting and falling paper leaves — a recurring motif that, for me, felt slightly at odds with the rest of the production.
We see Rio come face to face with a white stag wreaking havoc in the aisles of Halewood Tesco. Oskar’s sole source of income is jeopardised by a stubborn walrus that refuses to leave his boat. Hazel’s boyfriend is mauled on a hiking trail by a mother bear protecting her cubs. Before and after these surreal encounters, each character wrestles with the cost of suppressing their emotions and instincts. As the play unfolds, they gradually understand themselves more deeply through these wild animal interactions, underscored by the recurring line: ‘You can’t punish instinct.’
The production has plenty of energy, thanks to its combination of live sound-making and dynamic scene changes. The script aims to create a sense of immersion through Rio’s hyper-local Scouse references, Oskar’s deliberate slips into Norwegian and pointed nods to contemporary American culture wars. But these choices often felt a little heavy-handed. I found the Liverpool and U.S. scenes relied too much on familiar stereotypes, which at times distracted from the more heartfelt themes at the play’s core.
The Walrus Has a Right to Adventure attempts to show the importance of reconnecting with one’s true inner nature. The part of you that exists beneath layers of peer pressure, patriarchy, and societal expectation. It’s a show I wish had taken itself more seriously and dug deeper into its themes to deliver something more nuanced and sophisticated.
The Walrus Has a Right to Adventure plays at the Liverpool Everyman until 21st June. Get your tickets here.
