author: Erin Tarpley
“There nothing that a hundred men on Mars could ever do”
If you’re like me, then you have never heard of the play Crocodile Fever before. If you’re like me, you didn’t immediately see the connection between “crocodile” and Northern Ireland when you did get a brief whiff of where the story was set. If you’re like me, and you are ready to take a chance on the unknown but are ultimately looking for an evening of comedy and drama, laughter and horror, real and macabre, then stop reading here and go ahead and reserve your tickets for Meghan Tyler’s dark comedy play: Crocodile Fever.
Tyler’s Crocodile Fever has a way of luring you into the false sense of security that this will be anything other than what it will become. While the setting and the initial premise may seem like this production is merely a take at a standard domestic drama about two estranged sisters reconciling under the threat of British military occupation during The Troubles and shared patriarchal trauma, things quickly go from mundane to chaotic in the opening moments of the performance. And once the show gets rolling, it only continues to escalate from there in all the best ways possible as it weaves a dark and twisted tale of family, repression, and the monstrous shadows that lurk within us all.
Set in Northern Ireland in 1989 with the constant threat of violence heavy in the air during the times of The Troubles, our story takes place in a seemingly tranquil, and thoroughly well cleaned, farmhouse located in the Irish countryside. When the curtain rises, we first meet the elder of the two Devlin sisters, Alannah (played by Caitlyn Weaver), as she is beginning her meticulous cleaning ritual. Organized and focused on her task, she is halted first by a stubborn smudge that allows the audience to quickly learn by her conflicted actions how Alannah is not the prim and proper young domestic woman she strives so hard to appear to be, and second by the sudden appearance of her younger sister Fianna (played by Will Murphy) as Fianna literally smashes their way through the kitchen window.
The action that ensues throughout the rest of the first act builds on this initial bumping-of-heads as the two sisters fight against themselves, against their own emotions, and against the memories of the past traumas inflicted upon them by their abusive father (played by Frank Mancino), who just happens to be living as a paralyzed invalid upstairs. But despite his invalid-state, he nonetheless serves as the embodiment of a patriarchal society that has oppressed these women for their entire existence and lingers quite literally above their heads. During his time down-stairs, Mancino is no less controlling of the two Devlin sisters as he knows just what to say, and how to say it, as a means of shutting them down and taking them back to their younger, more vulnerable selves.
As the two sisters talk, they learn about each other’s experiences over their 11-year separation: about their trials and non-existent tribulations since their paths diverted, leading Fianna to scrape and fight for survival while Alannah subverts her own unlimited potential in an attempt at penance. However, amidst the darkness, there are bright flashes of humor interspersed throughout as Tyler’s witty dialogue provides moments of genuine laughter, a necessary release valve in the face of such harrowing themes. The way the sisters discuss and misinterpret pop culture references, like Alannah’s butchered rendition of the lyrics to “Africa” by Toto, adds a touch of levity that underscores their humanity, and will definitely make you see the story of the infamous song in a whole new light.
From there, talk graduates to furious action in a way that is reminiscent of a Tarantino film, and I won’t say much more than that! But rest assured that the play’s ending is nothing short of audacious, where horror serves as a metaphor for the psychological and emotional torment the sisters have endured. And without giving away spoilers, through the use of magical realism, it is a culmination of everything that has come before with a bloody and shocking resolution that leaves a lasting impression.
While the Devlin sisters’ descent into darkness is both horrifying and strangely exhilarating, the use of violence on stage never feels gratuitous, instead leaving the more overt violent moments as action conducted off stage. Rather, it serves as a stark portrayal of the characters’ inner turmoil and the desperate measures they resort to in pursuit of liberation.
Making her directorial debut at The Stand, Tessara Morgan Farley does a marvelous job at not only guiding this fabulous cast through the emotional rollercoaster that is this play, but mastering the pacing in such a way that allows the audience to remain present with rapt attention at every moment. I was especially appreciative of the use of “loud silences” used throughout this production as a means to not only allow the audience to see the unspoken turmoil and conflict within each sister’s head-space, but also allow for a brilliant mix of drama and comedy in these elongated quiet moments that continued to move the action forward as well as broaden the dimensions of each sister.
Weaver shines as a walking paradox as she portrays her internal turmoil to be a good catholic woman who cares for her ailing father while she maintains a proper household through rigid rules and expectations. The stress and physical reactions she exudes as a result of her more flippant and care-free sister’s presence are meticulously enacted and a testament to how tight women can wind themselves as a means to meet societal expectations. Her ability to literally let her hair down and allow herself more freedom as the night wanes on excels throughout in her performance.
Similarly, Murphy sparks like a firecracker every moment they are in sight. Marked as the antagonizer to every moment of potential peace, Murphy does an amazing job in their choices in how they push and pull the tension on the stage to ultimately build the pressure to just the right height while also showing the bravado and vulnerability of Fianna’s own struggles to survive and hopefully, thrive.
While not a play for the faint of heart, Crocodile Fever is a play that lingers long after the curtain falls. At its core, it is a powerful and disturbing examination of family, trauma, and the fight for survival. With its exceptional performances, genre-bending approach, and unflinching portrayal of female characters, it is a theatrical experience that deserves to be seen. This show is a must-see for anyone who appreciates bold storytelling and plays that don’t shy away from the dark corners of human experience.
Still not sold? Okie dokie. So just to recap, here is a show with feminine fury, Tarantino-esque violence, magical realism, social metaphors, and Toto.
Whether you’re like me and come to this show prepared or not, just be prepared to laugh.
Running Time: Approximately 2 hours with one fifteen-minute intermission.
Crocodile Fever plays through June 30th at the Strand Theater, 5426 Harford Rd. Baltimore MD 21214. For tickets call the box office at (443) 874-4917 or purchase them online.
