Review: Crocodile Fever, at Arcola Theatre
Blood-soaked tragicomedy blends black comedy, revenge tragedy and fabulist horror with gleeful abandon
Friday, 7th November — By Lucy Popescu

Meghan Tyler and Rachael Rooney in Crocodile Fever [Ikin Yum]
SET in 1989 Northern Ireland, at the height of the Troubles, Meghan Tyler’s blood-soaked tragicomedy follows two estranged sisters confronting the violent legacy of their father.
Fianna Devlin (Tyler) shatters the calm, ordered existence of her uptight sister Alannah (Rachael Rooney) by turning up on her doorstep unannounced after 11 years apart.
Fianna has spent time in prison, while Alannah, a devout Catholic, remained in their childhood home to care for their ailing Da (Stephen Kennedy).
We learn that both were abused by their tyrannical father with Fianna escaping into the IRA and Alannah – paralysed by guilt over the death of their mother and consumed by obsessive-compulsive rituals – trapped in domestic servitude.
Their reunion sparks a bloody reckoning. Fuelled by alcohol, a 1980s mixed tape and manic energy, the sisters plunge into frenzied violence.
Tyler blends black comedy, revenge tragedy and fabulist horror with gleeful abandon. The sisters are soon steeped in blood with the help of a chainsaw and a stew pot.
The performances are deliberately over the top. Rooney’s portrayal begins with a hint of self-consciousness, and both sisters’ abrupt mood swings can feel heavy-handed, but their energy is infectious.
Mehmet Ergen’s production embraces the play’s gruesomeness, though Tyler’s use of Grand Guignol doesn’t fully cohere. There are some brilliant moments of tension and horror in the first half, but the second, marked by the arrival of the titular reptile (imaginatively evoked by Rachael Canning), leans too far into absurdity.
Tyler’s ambition is clear, and she interweaves personal and political trauma to striking effect. Yet Crocodile Fever feels overbaked. Though elements of their feminist rage resonate, the play’s sledgehammer approach inevitably blunts its emotional impact.
Until November 22
arcolatheatre.com/