'Twas the morning before Christmas, and all through the "decrapitated" Harkin family house both the heavily hung over and the visibly depressed were just beginning to stir. Santa certainly will not be stopping at this dreary dwelling in a Dublin suburb, where a pair of middle-aged bachelor brothers live in squalor and uneasy symbiosis. But it's a good bet Satan might drop by for a life-and-death game of poker.
And there you have it -- the essence of "The Seafarer," a quintessentially black Irish Christmas Eve bash courtesy of Conor McPherson. In a twist on the old Faustian bargain, his play is concocted of equal parts heavy alcoholic vapors mixed with the sludge of several …
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