The Seafarer – Hoy Polloy

Overview

Before the introduction of its supernatural elements, it’s hard to remember that Conor McPherson’s The Seafarer was written as recently as 2006, such is its slavish use of naturalistic dialogue that stands at odds with so much of the inventiveness of modern Irish writing for performance. Hoy Polloy’s production of the play, directed by Wayne Pearn, doesn’t quite achieve the emotional range and drive to fully articulate the play’s ultimate message of enduring hope.

On Christmas Eve in Dublin, five men sit down for a game of poker. Sharky (Barry Mitchell) lives with his blind brother Richard (Geoff Hickey); much of the core of the work trades on their fractious, dependent relationship. They’re joined by their friends and by a mysterious man named Mr Lockhart (Michael Cahill), who has come to win Sharky’s soul.

The long build in the text allows subtle dynamics of uncertainty and menace to build up gradually, especially in the forms of literal and symbolic blindness.

The performances are solid — Hickey is especially good as the blind, crotchety Richard — but it’s frustrating that the ensemble as a whole seizes so few opportunities offered by the rich language to build up the kind of momentum that’s needed to take us along with them. Instead, rhythm and timing fall by the wayside, although it’s easy to see how this could be recovered beyond opening night as the production settles into its run.

The actors are let down by unimaginative design — for instance, the eerie confrontations between Lockhart and Sharky are seemingly the only times the lighting states make an occasional, apologetic shift.

That said, The Seafarer is a rare opportunity to see McPherson’s work in action, and its occasional flashes of sparkling wit and poetry — “I’ll just have the Irish then, hold the coffee” — remind us why the writer’s had such international acclaim.

Image by Fred Kroh.