It’s the 80’s in South Armagh, and we’re in the height of the Troubles. The IRA is a vocation, and paramilitaries make house calls, but they’re not exactly interested in cups of tea. It’s said that time heals all wounds, but in Crocodile Fever the only way to put the past to bed is to get legless with a strong spirit and a dose of black humour.
A couple of hours spent at the theatre are always a treat; sometimes even regardless of the play, especially when you’re at the Lyric theatre, Belfast. I often aim to arrive slightly early to enjoy the view of the Lagan with a glass of Tempranillo and the pared back décor. And although the play cannot affect the enjoyment of the experience of the Lyric to a certain extent, at times it is a definite enhancement, and this was certainly the case with Tryst.