★★★

“The central performances belong to Tyler and Rooney. They are on fire.”

Crocodile Fever is a chaotic drama set in chaotic times about chaotic family relationships. Meghan Tyler’s play, first shown at the 2019 Edinburgh Festival Fringe, is enjoying its London premiere. It is set in a family household in Northern Ireland in 1989 – that is, in the midst of the ‘Troubles’, a euphemism for the violent conflict of the times.

Younger audience members (and even some not-so-young) might benefit from knowing something of the background and history of those times because there are references – for example the sinister memory of the ‘knock on the door’ in the night – that are easily missed yet will enrich understanding of the play.

What makes Tyler’s setting relevant are the underlying themes of oppression, abuse, dysfunctional sisterhood and casual horror. These are ably exploited by Arcola’s co-founder and artistic director Mehmet Ergan and his production team, and cannot help but recall other situations where these elements of war continue to be present. Altogether, however, it is hard to place the play neatly into a genre. Is it a metaphorical family drama, a black comedy or a grotesque absurdist play? Crocodile Fever defies categorisation, by intention.

The action opens in a pristine kitchen (set designer Merve Yörük deserves a mention) where pious sister Alannah (Rachel Rooney) is obsessively cleaning. She has tight control over her environment and wants to keep it that way, although we have early indications of a disturbed mind. Into this order, bursts Fianna (Meghan Tyler), out of a long term in prison and at the opposite end of the personality scale (apparently) to her sibling but wanting to renew their connection. She believes that their father died in a confrontation with the ‘paras’ (paratroopers) so is shocked to find out that he is, in fact, living: upstairs in the family home. Fianna is his long-suffering carer.

At this point any realism in the play starts to disintegrate, slowly but believably at first, and chaos takes over as the interaction between the sisters twists and turns helped by old songs, alcohol, quick fire dialogue and snatches of history that are hard to keep track of. We are on a track to horrible happenings. The father (brilliantly played by Stephen Kennedy) is the reptile in the attic and must be dealt with. His appearance towards the end of the first act is a shock. And from there on, there is a rapid descent of the action into gore and strange symbolism.

The central performances belong to Tyler and Rooney. They are on fire. Rooney, in particular, shows an extraordinary range of comic expression (a touch of the Mrs Doyle?) and, despite the absurdism, is then convincing in her portrayal of release and disintegration. She doesn’t let the flamboyant acting of Tyler as Fianna hog the limelight, as could so easily happen.

Yet, somehow I felt there should be a magnetism exhibited in the sister relationship (whether repelling or attracting) that somehow failed to materialise. It may be that the play, in dealing with so much, lacks a central focus and resolution. This could leave one feeling dissatisfied at the end; nevertheless, the overall impression is of a drama that is tackling big subjects in an innovative way so, if it loses its way a little, well isn’t that what happens in times of terrible conflict?

SCENES FROM THE CLIMATE ERA

The Playground Theatre

★★★½

“a triumph for the cast and creative team”

David Finnigan’s Scenes from the Climate Era is a disturbing play. It’s meant to be. Even more disturbing is that two years on from its first performance in Sydney, it punches as hard as ever. Is there hope for redemption from the human follies that have brought us into this era? That is the core question of this piece and, playing after the UK’s hottest summer on record, we must ask ourselves whether hope itself is the folly.

Gate Theatre is presenting the European premiere of ‘Scenes’ at The Playground Theatre and the studio style space is exploited perfectly by Gate’s Artistic Lead Atri Banerjee. As the action opens, it feels as if we are looking at a rehearsal – a young couple discussing whether it is responsible to bring a child into this world (a conversation which quickly breaks down into a disagreement about whether paper or plastic is doing more damage). This feeling is intensified as a third actor breaks out from the audience (we are seated ‘in the round’) with startling, thunderous applause to bring the key process into focus.

This process is a disruption of the original ‘SARA’ curve of change management – Shock, Anger, Rejection, Acceptance. Here we are presented instead with three stages: one – denial; two – optimism and solutions; three – grief, anger and despair. In a very short space of time, 80 minutes, over multiple brief scenes (the original had 66 – I lost count in this production that has brought the statistics of the climate crisis bang up to date), we are treated to real and imagined snapshots: dinner party debates; COP speeches; protests; oil company whistle-blowing; scientific predictions; even a dance party that interleaves the conversations.

Framed in sound baths, dramatic changes in lighting, and smoke creeping through the studio, we watch the action range chaotically over time and place. There is a media interview in 1981 about the greenhouse effect; a laboratory in the future where the last of a particular species of frog is being kept alive. The Climate Era as a definition is proposed – a theory that we are now living through a defined era, like the Byzantine one, which will come to an end. How, when and what that might look like are debated. Toward the chilling conclusion, the couple we met at the opening have had their family, and we are still left asking ‘Was that responsible?’

The extraordinary blend of scenarios, dialogue, and special effects is a triumph for the cast and creative team. Miles Barrow, Harriet Gordon-Anderson (an original cast member), Ziggy Heath and Peyvand Sadeghian are the high energy and accomplished physical actors taking us through this small-scale epic, with much owed to the overall design (Anna Yates) and the lighting and sound team.

This is the stuff of theatre. To put the spotlight on a current and sobering topic, present it as entertainment and then drive home the unavoidable importance of the content. If there were a criticism, it is that the switch between scenes is so intense and the range so diverse, it leaves one breathless and with no time to reflect. The single bit of audience involvement business, near the beginning, seems redundant. There is no story arc (that is not the point, we are still in the middle of the era) and the pace is relentless with very few quieter moments. I am sure that this is actually the intention, but the complexity can be overwhelming.

When we get to the last two scenes, Finnigan offers us four endings, each set in different parts of the world, and each offering its own existential conundrum. Then he answers the original question ‘how will we know when the Climate Era has ended?’ with a twist. Whether it is hopeful or not, is down to the way each of us interacts with the prognosis.

CROCODILE FEVER

Arcola Theatre

★★★

“The central performances belong to Tyler and Rooney. They are on fire.”

CROCODILE FEVER

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 23rd October 2025

by Louise Sibley

Photography by Ikin Yum

Previously reviewed at this venue:

CROCODILE FEVER

CROCODILE FEVER

CROCODILE FEVER

SCENES FROM THE CLIMATE ERA

The Playground Theatre

★★★½

“a triumph for the cast and creative team”