New Haven Theater Company
The idea behind the phrase “the blind leading the blind” is that without true faith a person is blind and anyone he leads or teaches will be led astray. Both will fall into the ditch. The phrase is apt for Conor McPherson’s The Seafarer, which finishes its run at the New Haven Theater Company this weekend.
The story of Richard Harkin (Jim Lones), who has recently lost his sight, his drinking buddy Ivan Curry (Steve Scarpa), who can’t find his glasses, and Richard’s brother, the ne’er-do-well James, known as Sharky (J. Kevin Smith), who recently lost his job, hinges on regaining one’s sight, so to speak. Seeing ourselves clearly requires some faith in ourselves and in each other. And seeing correctly plays an important part in the play’s decisive poker game.
The Seafarer is a Christmas story set in Dublin, where Richard and Ivan drink their way through the season while Sharky tries to stay on the wagon. Recently returned to his brother’s digs, Sharky also tries to maintain his patience while caring for his bossy and quick-tempered brother. The dialogue, with a becoming Irish lilt, captures well the familiar tensions between grown siblings who have both seen better days. Jim Lones’ Richard would rather appear cranky than needy, but he can also do a nice pathetic whine when it’s required. He’s the kind who inhabits a chair and gives commands to others. His being blind just means they’re more apt to hop to it. Scarpa’s Ivan — his finest performance to date — is generally somewhat befuddled with drink or recovering from last night’s binge, but he’s helpful to the older man and a reliable crony. Sharky is the odd man out and feels it, resenting his role as his brother’s factotum. But as long as he doesn’t drink there’s a chance he’ll keep his famous temper in check.
The play gains more tension with the introduction of Nicky Giblin (Peter Chenot). Nicky is the life of the party sort, the man about town who just happens to be now living with Sharkey’s ex, and the other day, while stuck in the rain, Sharkey espied Nicky driving “his” car. We might expect some score-settling this Christmas. The score to be settled, however, is much more sinister than arguing over a car.
Nicky has brought along to the usual card game a well-dressed stranger called Mr. Lockhart (George Kulp), and Mr. Lockhart, taking advantage of a moment alone together, reminds Sharkey of a promise he made while they shared a cell in Bridewell prison. The devil is real, it turns out, and might turn up at your doorstep to beat you at cards and claim your soul.
Such is the situation for Sharkey. The others remain blind to Lockhart’s identity and carry on as ever — even as the tension in the card game ratchets up considerably for the audience. NHTC’s production keeps us on the edge of our seats as the chumminess of these buddies skirts the abyss. As Nicky, Peter Chenot might blithely bring the devil to your home and be utterly clueless about it. He is, as they say, a card. As Lockhart, George Kulp has a glib friendliness one associates with someone trying to sell you something you don’t really need, but he also pulls off a fire-and-brimstone voice that convinces us of his evil intentions and his power to make them count.
McPherson is quite adept at making each character both likeable and unlikeable at the same time — particularly Sharkey, who most of us probably wouldn’t trust too much or want to be indebted to. Yet we have hopes for him. He seems to be turning over a new leaf when his satanic challenger arrives, and the play’s meaning hinges on whether his salvation is possible.
Will Sharkey see the value in his life? Who will the cards — a nice figure for the hand of fate or God — favor?
Set in NHTC’s most fully realized staging to date, The Seafarer boasts the trappings of a rec room with a certain down-at-heels comfort, including a lopsided Christmas tree and empties aplenty. To work, McPherson’s play has to feel real, and NHTC’s players, in their ready familiarity with each other, make us the proverbial fly on the wall. Lighting effects help to sell Lockhart’s identity at one point, making his infernal power feel real as well.
The play’s profanity and fast-paced dialogue means this show isn’t for the kiddies, so call it a Christmas story for adults. Strange as it may seem, you might just find the meaning of the season amid this group of garrulous boozers—if you can see it.
The Seafarer finishes its run Nov. 20, 21, and 22 at English Building Markets, 839 Chapel St.
