The Seafarer is just as powerfully a contemplation on what it is to knock along in a life pot-holed with bad luck and dysfunction. Indeed, almost all of the first act is a fly-on-the-wall immersion in a certain kind of seedy male domesticity.Amid peeling wallpaper and rising damp, the house buzzes with bark, banter, and potted philosophizing as mismatched cups, milk possibly past its sell-by date, and a lifetime’s unhealthy relationship with alcohol arrive and depart.
