Wallace Shawn’s The Fever
A hotel room in an unnamed country riven by civil war.
Shawn’s unnamed speaker – a white, privileged, first world sophisticate – is addicted to third world ‘horror tourism’. His fever-driven, hallucinatory narrative loops back and forth between the three-hat restaurants, opera houses and concert halls of his ‘real’ life, and the war-torn economic devastation of his preferred holiday destinations.
Yes – poor countries are beautiful. Poor people are beautiful.
It’s a wonderful feeling to have money in a country where most people are poor,
to ride in a taxi through horrible slums.
Ferocious, wry, and vividly passionate, Shawn’s virtuosic text tears its way through the shame, the ethical paralysis and the gluttonous, guilty pleasure of being born at the top of the heap.
‘I’m interested in protecting none of them unless they pay.’ — Donald Trump on foreign aid.
Written by Wallace Shawn
Performed by James Wardlaw
Directed by Tom Healey
Set design by Dagmara Gieysztor
Lighting design by Bronwyn Pringle
Stage Manager: Jess Keepence
Image by Dagmara Gieysztor