Like many a flawed genius, Shane Warne's life is worthy of the stage.
A larrikin from the suburbs, a smoker, beer drinker and pizza eater with a great talent who became an international hero regarded by many as the best the world had ever seen.
But he had major flaws.
Sex, drugs and gambling scandals engulfed him but couldn't stop him performing great deeds, inspiring others and building his stature as a hero. Even in retirement he divides opinion - revered by many and ridiculed by others.
Translate his story into that of a politician, a military figure, a musician or a scientist and it would be a justifiable piece of theatre.
So why not Warnie the cricketer? With plenty of material to draw on, Shane Warne The Musical pokes enormous fun at Australia's great Test leg spinner in a genuinely funny and clever, sometimes exaggerated, but never malicious, biography.
After his initial objection to the show, Warne appeared on stage with creator Eddie Perfect at the end of Thursday night's world premiere in Melbourne, declaring the production "fantastic", won over by an amusing, sympathetic and even poignant portrayal of a very public life.
But Perfect, who also plays Warne in the fast-paced musical, has by no means pulled his punches. He does not hold back in highlighting Warne's flaws and infidelities with his sharp lyrics - in one song, The Away Game, he sings "My room is a morality free zone" and "wives on the other side of the world, a bar full of horny young girls ... this is where I score the most".
There's revolutionary Warne, urging his mates at the cricket academy in Adelaide to rebel. "Rules and regulations will destroy you, they oppress us", Perfect sings grandly in We're Going There, exhorting his fellow students to break the shackles of academy discipline and head to the pub, "the hotel called Freedom".
Then there's inspirational Warne in That Ball, an operatic tribute to the "ball of the century", his first Test delivery in England in 1993 which turned three feet to knock over a baffled Mike Gatting's stumps and announce Warne's arrival.
With wonderful hyperbole, a nervous Warne contemplating his first Test in England asks himself "Did Ned Kelly back down at Glenrowan? Did an Anzac hide in the trenches?" before deciding "A hero stands his ground" and sending down that ball.
And there's buffoon Warne - stung by a photographer in his Playboy undies with three scantily clad women, buckling to the temptation of cash from Indian John the bookmaker, a heartfelt chat with a cigarette and his inability to control his textual urges while in the supermarket with wife Simone in What An SMS I'm In.
Amid all the lampooning and laughs, however, Perfect manages to mix in a nice touch of pathos and tragedy.
Early in the first act, Robert Grubb, as Warne's mentor Terry Jenner, touchingly warns the lazy young cricketer against throwing away his talent.
Jenner laments his own lost opportunities as a Test cricketer and his time in jail for embezzlement. But he rejoices that the soul he lost while behind bars was rediscovered "When I saw Warne bowl".
He tells Warne: "I'm not going to watch while you piss it all away. Go home Shane and do the f...ing work".
In I'm Coming Home, a pensive Warne ponders aloud, thinking of Simone "I hope you never see the ugly side of me" and explains his liaisons on tour by saying "I just wanted to fill the emptiness".
But the tragic and lonely Simone has had enough. In the truly touching What About That Shane, she asks her wayward husband about all the times she met him and his teammates at the airport after a tour, with the boys all laughing and smiling, "knowing what you've been up to".
"I thought they were our friends Shane, but they were just yours," Rosemarie Harris, as Simone, sings: "Do you know how that feels Shane, when your friends are not real Shane?" At the start of the show, Perfect asks whether Warne's life is a failure or success.
After seeing his life unfold through rollicking chorus numbers, dance routines and searching solos, Warnie didn't really care - he just loved the show.
