FringeReview Scotland 2026
Crocodile Tears
Shark Bait Theatre
Genre: Comedy, New Writing, Theatre
Venue: Duns Volunteer Hall
Festival: FringeReview Scotland
Low Down
We’re on Exile Island, where the new reality show Survival Island is already on skid row; the contestants are boring, ratings are crashing, the law of the jungle rules and the protagonists are at each other’s throats. And the only way from here ain’t up. It’s downhill all the way.
Review
Reality TV is a bit like Marmite. It’s a love or hate relationship, with nothing in between. The same goes for the now ubiquitous game show. So, when writer/performer Jess Ferrier had the bright idea of combining these two love/hate formats, she created the Frankensteinesque monster that is Crocodile Tears. And, in an almost indescribably toe-curling hour that feels like a cross between Love Island and The Weakest Link (on steroids), it’s very much the survival of the fittest as the contestants fight against themselves (and a host that makes Machiavelli look like a pussy cat) in their desperate bid to avoid the humiliation of elimination.
Shark Bait Theatre’s pulsating production first aired at the 2025 Edinburgh Fringe and its current tour of Scotland saw it land with full force in DunsPlayFest week on a bank holiday Monday with scant other entertainment options available in this remote Borders town. So, turn the telly on then, luv, and let the conflict begin.
Because that’s what these advert laden, product placement programmes are – thinly disguised conflict clubs. We’re on Exile Island, where the new reality show Survival Island is already on skid row; the contestants are boring, ratings are crashing, the law of the jungle rules and the protagonists (or should that be contestants?) are at each other’s throats.
This particular conflict club contains the usual motley caricatures trying to milk money out of living in a goldfish bowl. Faye (the superbly neurotic Darcy de Winter) is convinced that someone/something out there has got it in for them, and her; Margot (writer Jess Ferrier) is a bigger purveyor of mendacity than the current POTUS ; Reuben is the detail focused, pedantic, nerdy type (played with real conviction by Rory Drinnan-Murray); Daisy (the cherubic Robyn Reilly) is the “holier than thou” evangelical (in this case with the odd skeleton or two in the proverbial cupboard); and Jake (the superbly effete Lex Joyce) provides the token comic relief coupled with a dollop of obligatory high camp.
The chances of our quintet even agreeing what day of the week it is are next to zero, especially given that their communication devices have been locked away and they’re relying on the jungle drums for news. Or not. Oh, and there’s Cassia Whittaker (the fire-breathing Abi Price), the host with an ego as tall and sharp as the London Shard. What could possibly go wrong?
Ferrier’s superbly crafted script mashes together the best (or should that be worst?) traits of these genres and is alternately riotously funny and bitingly satirical. The piece buzzes from start to finish in the hands of the universally superb cast, aided and abetted by Ian Hanshaw Thomas’s sure hand on the directorial tiller. Never afraid to expose the superficiality in these programmes, Ferrier also shines an accusatory torch on the pernicious nature of voyeurism, the ritual humiliation of nearly everyone involved and that what’s unravelling before our eyes is as far from real life as it’s possible to get. On this planet at any rate.
However, try as you might, you can’t help but get sucked into it, finding yourself invested in the disparate characters bickering at each other, willing your favourite to come out on top. The pace is relentless as the plot lines and devices tumble over each other, the only “breaks” coming when a very effective single spot allows each character to illuminate their back story, presumably in a bid to garner a few more “votes” from their viewing public.
But midway through, things take on a decidedly darker hue, turning an already tense atmosphere fully febrile. Cue a rapid decent into panic, confessions and a genuine fear for their survival. Is the prize money really worth all this angst?
This is a real “must see” show. There’s so much to admire here too; the peerless script; the consummate acting; light and sound that supported the action, never letting it miss a beat; the simple but evocative set; even the “advertising” and “here’s where we are” voice overs are dripping with sarcastic, send up humour.
Reality TV is an oxymoron. It’s diced and sliced to sensationalise and entertain. What you see is, like any recorded material, what someone else wants you to see. Conflict equals click bate. Truth never stands a chance of getting in the way of a good story. Crocodile Tears exposes all this and more in what is a superb piece of entertainment with a subliminal message that’s impossible to ignore. If it appears near you, go see it!
