KEY POINTS:
Keith Murdoch's controversial dismissal from the 1972 All Black touring squad after an altercation with a Welsh security guard should have become an inconsequential footnote to the colourful history of New Zealand rugby.
But Murdoch refused to stick to the script - instead of expressing contrition and rehabilitating
his rugby career, he slipped off the plane in Sydney and disappeared. Decades of peripatetic obscurity in the Australian outback fuelled the legend and the enigma was deepened by Murdoch's refusal to speak of the matter.
In the hands of playwright Margot McRae the story takes on the dimensions of an epic quest - a provincial version of the Da Vinci Code with an intrepid reporter obsessed with a mystery that feels like it could supply the answer to everything.
Like all great quests meaning is found not in the final revelation but in the journey itself. As the reporter comes closer to her quarry Murdoch appears like a mythical figure from a golden era - inscrutable, stoically self-sufficient and capable of delivering a salutary smack in the face to a trivialised culture that has obliterated all claims to personal privacy.
Along the way the play sets up a nice contrast between the corrosive cynicism of the television industry and the kinder, gentler era that existed before cellphones, reality TV and professional rugby.
With a running time of an hour and three-quarters the script suffers from a journalistic reluctance to do away with any hard-earned facts and there are a few sequences that feel unresolved.
But members of the 1972 All Black squad are drawn with great sensitivity and director Paul Gittins has assembled a superb cast who rise to the challenge of representing iconic Kiwi characters.
Geoff Snell captures the gentlemanly quality of captain Ian Kirkpatrick as he deals with guilt over his failure to support Murdoch and Kevin Wilson gives a moving performance as the team manager who lost the respect of his players.
Michael Lawrence delivers a beautifully understated performance in the role of Keith Murdoch in which the hard man's intimidating physical presence is balanced by down-to-earth charm and a wry sense of humour. By contrast the characters representing the television industry are fairly one-dimensional, at times cartoonish figures. But Sarah Somerville elicits sympathy with her spirited portrayal of an ambitious reporter who is torn between the demands of her job and a desire to maintain some basic human decency.
McRae has a sharp ear for the rhythms of everyday speech and the script is peppered with wonderful sporting aphorisms like Ian Kirkpatrick's observation that you never beat the Welsh you just score more points than them.