★★★

“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?

CRY-BABY, THE MUSICAL

Arcola Theatre

★★★★★

“Feel-good is the understatement of the year where this show is concerned”

‘It’s a beautiful day for an anti-polio picnic’. So begins the new all-singing, all-dancing “Cry-Baby, The Musical”. This is no surprise if you are armed with the knowledge that the musical is based on the transgressive filmmaker John Waters’ 1990 film. Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan have written the book, with David Javerbaum and Adam Schlesinger providing the songs. Directed by the Arcola Theatre’s artistic director, Mehmet Ergen, it bursts onto the London stage with an effervescent eccentricity that Waters would be proud of with all his screwball heart.

A couple of words of advice. Leave your expectations at home, along with any judgements, preconceptions or theatrical snobbery. Don’t read the programme notes – the ones that allude to the show dealing with issues of class-based injustices, political relevance, privilege, demonisation… blah blah blah. It really isn’t that deep. Yes, they’re all in there somewhere, cleverly hidden in hilarious, blink-and-you-miss one-liners, but the trick is to just wallow in the whole explosion of joy that this show bombards you with. The story is as shallow as they come. A kind of ‘Grease’ meets ‘Jailhouse Rock’ – but better than both put together. It is 1954. Communism is the big taboo. Wade “Cry-Baby” Walker is the coolest kid in town. He’s a rebel with a cause. A bad guy – though we kind of twig pretty quickly that he’s not really. Allison is the strait-laced rich girl who crosses to the wrong side of the tracks, drawn to his irresistible flame. Forbidden love and teen rebellion run rife while society moral values are turned upside down.

Adam Davidson plays the eponymous ‘Cry-Baby’. His name derives from the fact that he hasn’t cried since his parents died and he was orphaned at a young age (we learn the circumstances of his mum and dad’s tragic demise later). He is the leader of the ‘Drapes’, a misfit crew of baddies with whom the ‘Squares’ (to which Lulu-Mae Pears’ clean-cut Allison belongs) are in awe of, yet fear, in equal measure. Allison has been brought up by her grandmother, the (seemingly) upright Mrs Cordelia Vernon-Williams (Shirley Jameson). Surrounded by a magnificent kaleidoscope of colourful characters, all performed by an even more magnificent cast, the narrative roller-coasts through picnics, self-awareness days, song contests, arson attacks, prison, escape, freedom, atonement, justice, hard-won-love… right up to its preposterously upbeat finale. All the while our smiles get wider and wider, the laughs get stronger, and our toe-tapping turns into all-out body shaking. Feel-good is the understatement of the year where this show is concerned.

The score must have been one of the easiest to write. There’s irony in that statement, but a snippet of truth too. The entire set list is pure pastiche. The chord structures have been handed to Javerbaum and Schlesinger on a plate. Each song is instantly recognisable, yet bizarrely unique. It’s the lyrics that can take the credit – insanely clever, witty and poignant. The writers are masters of rhyming and scanning, and the performers deliver faultlessly. We are transported back to the fifties with the genre defining songs: the close-knit harmonies of ‘Squeaky Clean’, or the rockabilly rhythms of ‘Jukebox Jamboree’. Ballads such as ‘Misery’ and ‘I’m Infected’ tug at our teenage heartstrings and rekindle the memories of our misspent teenage years. The bar is high, but there still manage to be highlights. Shirley Jameson’s ‘Did Something Wrong Once’ threatens to bring the house down, as does Chad Saint Louis (who plays bad boy Dupree) every time he opens his mouth, and lungs. Davidson and Pears smash every number they sing. The ensemble players are, without exception, exceptional. Eleanor Walsh, in particular, as Lenora Frigid (don’t blame me – I didn’t name the characters), whose solo number ‘Screw Loose’ defines her perfectly. Bonkers? Yes! Virtuosic? Without doubt! And how can you fail to enjoy a musical that includes song titles such as ‘Girl Can I Kiss You with Tongues?’ Forget the phrase ‘from the sublime to the ridiculous’. This show combines the too. Ridiculous? Yes! Sublime? Without a doubt!

You don’t need a big stage to create a spectacle. Chris Whittaker’s choreography shifts the walls outwards, playing with scale and creating deceptively big routines. Meticulously period yet innovative, it encapsulates the show’s energy and sense of fun. Shades of Jerome Robbins in no way eclipse Whittaker’s own individuality. Like every element of the show, familiarity and peculiarity dance side by side.

The finale number – a rousing ‘Nothing Bad’ – sums it up. “Cry-Baby, The Musical” is two hours of star-spangled fun. You’d be a cry-baby to miss it (I know…!). All I can say is ‘be there… or be square’.

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

CRY-BABY, THE MUSICAL

Arcola Theatre

★★★★★

“Feel-good is the understatement of the year where this show is concerned”