Irish Up Your Theater - A Review of "The Seafarer" by Conor McPherson

Martin McDonagh and Conor McPherson have spoiled Broadway theatergoers of late. McDonagh's one creative outburst back in 1993 has fueled four incredible Broadway shows in The Beauty Queen of Lenane, The Lonesome West, The Pillowman, and The Lieutenant of Inishmore. Along with McPherson's The Weir and Shining City, it would seem the words "Irish" and "Broadway" could do no wrong. The Seafarer, McPherson's latest National Theatre transfer (which he also directed), may be the weakest of all seven, but it still has enough of the black Irish wit that made audiences fall in love with the new Irish playwrights in the first place. As a result, the production I attended tonight got a larger ovation than it probably merited.

The Seafarer centers on a deal with the devil in the form of a stranger named Mr. Lockhart (Ciarán Hinds), and James "Sharky" Harkin (David Morse), a recovering alcoholic with a bad temper and a sour view on life. The concept of selling one's soul to the devil has been played out (ahem) to death, so to make such a matter seem vital calls for extreme creativity and enthusiasm both from the playwright, technical staff, and actors. Mr. McPherson's premise for the transaction, Sharky's soul, a rematch of a game of poker 25 years ago, is somewhat novel. Yet, the initial indication of other-wordliness is a weak flicker of the lights and an even weaker clamping of the chest by Mr. Morse. Morse's performance is otherwise solid, but his lack of enthusiasm in this moment is an unfortunately important lapse.

Another flaw is the amount of time it takes to get to this major premise. We do not meet Mr. Lockhart until near the end of the first act, and most of the first act is filled with the drunken antics of Sharky's brother, the blind and senile Richard (Jim Norton), and friend Ivan (Conleth Hill). While Norton and Hill play decent drunks, The Seafarer proves once again that drunkenness alone cannot carry a play for an extended period of time.

Once we get to the meat of the play, however, the play takes a turn for the better. The humor of Richard and Ivan, which was cheap in the first act, feels more genuine when balanced with the gravity of Sharky and Mr. Lockhart's interaction. Mr. Hinds, too gets to show off his considerable performing chops, none displayed better than his chilling description of hell (which provides the source of the play's title), a monologue that is without a doubt the highlight of the play.

Throughout the play, the Irish meter and humorously bleak view of life that Broadway audiences have grown fond of is on full display. That, along with the fact that the play ends strongly, most likely explains the standing ovation. But there's not much here that McPherson or McDonagh haven't done better before, which may leave the uninitiated to wonder what the fuss was about in the first place.