Hot chatter / leg spin bowler supreme Shane Warne is the subject of comedian/composer Eddie Perfect’s “Shane Warne : The Musical”. The Guardian’s Gideon Haigh was on hand for the opening of a show he calls, “an almost unimprovable mingling of satire and homage, cheek and deference, music and comedy.”
As the house lights fell on the Wednesday night performance, Warne entered from the wings, and, a little self-consciously, made for seat A13 in the dress circle, acknowledging scattered applause. At intermission he rose smilingly, looked behind him to study the reaction of those studying his, and realised he was part of a happy consensus about the show’s quality.
At times in the rather darker second act, which successfully squeezes a quart of controversy into a pintpot of plot, there must have been moments of discomfiture. For one lengthy dream sequence, Warne/Perfect is attired only in a pair of Playboy underpants; two scenes also call for him to listen to his wife belt out songs mourning their disintegrating marriage, and when the lights rose again his seat was empty. But this was simply so that he could saunter onto the stage at the curtain call, and express his general satisfaction. He complained only: “I reckon I look better in my jocks than Eddie does.“