One sure-fire way to develop a thirst is to watch Eamonn Morrissey as Myles na Gopaleen's archetypal drunken Dubliner. It's a role he has worn like a second skin since 1974, reviving it every few years for another generation, who laugh themselves sick all over again.

But having seen the monstrous authority of the Irish Catholic clergy crumble, Morrissey has done a second trawl through na Gopaleen's work. Many offstage characters, indeed some routines, survive (the Brother, the Sergeant, the Landlady), but rather than a pub set, Morrissey now gripes from his faded "digs", with their dank, period beauty. But although apparently reformed, he is still the daft, defeated pub philosopher, with his hilarious, all-suffering devotion to the demon gargle.

Morrissey doesn't labour the done-to-death "A Pint of Plain is Your Only Man", but he ultimately indulges the audience with the pungent rot of the old Dublin drink humour: blackheads and bad blood; the woes of a bad knee; covering pub floors in half-digested stout.

Other routines are as profound as they are ridiculous: the place-name lyricism from At Swim Two Birds; or the Dostoevskian yarn of murdering the Brother in their taxidermist's workshop. In the latter he wears the dead man's skin to evade detection, until it accidentally fuses with his own. He ends up jailed for his own murder.

It is interesting to gauge the audience's mirth at the black drink humour, which in recent times has generally paled into a sense of tragic pathology. But with alcohol sales at an all-time high, Morrissey proves that the old Dublin drink humour is only just under the surface.

Until November 20. Box office: 00353-1-679 5720