John Breen must have soda pop in his blood - he fizzles and bubbles and froths. This impish enthusiasm permeates Alone It Stands, his hugely charismatic account of ragtag Munster's unlikely 1978 victory over the New Zealand All Blacks. Buoyed by ecstatic word-of-mouth reaction, the show has become a massive sleeper hit, playing to more than 80,000 people and basking in unanimous critical adulation.
Quietly gob-smacked by the production's blockbusting 18-month run, Breen seems more comfortable trading boisterous rugby banter than tiptoeing through the nuances of plot and dialogue. Ask him to explain the significance of that improbable Munster win and he grows effusive, almost agitated.
"You've got to consider the state of the country at the time. We were deep, deep in the doldrums. We didn't have a Jack Charlton or a U2 or a Riverdance. We were plucky losers. We never actually WON anything. For a side of underdogs - of civil servants and bank workers - to overcome this colossal New Zealand team...it was unbelievable, unthinkable," he says.
Munster's triumph unfolded at Limerick's Thomond Park. Breen grew up a few miles away, his childhood steeped in rugby. His parents were Garryowen fanatics, he lined out at underage for the club. Frankly, it's difficult to imagine him locking horns on the pitch.
Breen is small, dainty even; approximately as intimidating as apple pie.
He didn't witness Munster's shock 12-0 romp. Not yet in his teens, Breen was collecting wood for bonfire night, an event fondly recollected in Alone It Stands (the title comes from a Limerick rugby song). He wonders whether his writing would have packed as much metaphorical punch had he gone.
"The clash has taken on a mythic quality for me, something which it might have lacked had I actually witnessed it with my own eyes. It can't possibly have lived up to the eulogising that followed."
Scraping a living in theatre since his early 20s, Breen penned and directed Alone it Stands in 1999 to mark the 21st anniversary of Munster's victory. It transformed his career. He scooped an Irish Times/ESB Theatre Award for best director and took up a job at Yew Tree arts centre as artistic director, in Ballina. He is currently working on a political intrigue-"totally devoid of rugby". .
He spent nearly a year researching the match. There were complications. Anticipating a New Zealand cake walk, RT╔ had shied away from the tie. No television footage existed beyond several minutes of grainy amateur video. Breen assiduously interviewed players and officials, poured over innumerable newspaper reports and filled in the blanks with his imagination. His burrowing yielded a poignant gem: the father of Munster captain Donal Canniffe had died during the game, suffering a heart attack as he followed the drama on radio. "That was the final piece of the jigsaw. It was a terrible tragedy but it provided a crucial dramatic twist. It allowed me to elevate the play beyond the realm of sport."
Unspooling at a frenetic pace, Breen's narrative mirrors the oval code's stop-start urgency. He dashes between story lines: an impoverished Limerick couple prepare for the imminent birth of their first child, brandy toting Cork toffs breeze into town for the game, the New Zealand squad blusters and japes at Bunratty Castle and then - ooomph! - Munster and the All Blacks join in seismic, visceral combat.
Recreating rugby's thunderous intensity on stage places large demands on Breen's cast. Rehearsals were gruelling. Several actors didn't know the first thing about the sport so he took them to the park for a leisurely bout of non-contact "tag" rugby. After a few minutes of gentle exercise, they began seizing up in agony.
"It was important that we got the rugby right, that the cast was in top physical shape. All the choreography in the play comes directly from the field of play. The actors are performing real moves out there. We didn't change anything. Which made it quite difficult to write. Rugby can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. I didn't want anyone ending up in hospital," he says.
"Rugby is a series of set pieces. It contains moments of intense activity connected by quieter interludes. This is conducive to good drama. I can't begin to imagine how someone might structure a play about soccer and tennis. How could you keep pace with the action?"
Breen's passion for Limerick and its rugby lineage shines through his writing. There's an egalitarianism about the city's relationship with the sport that distinguishes it from other hot beds, he says.
"Limerick was a garrison town and the natives learned rugby from English soldiers. In other parts of the country, the rugby tradition came from fee paying schools. So there's a fundamental difference in tone. You could argue that Limerick rugby has more in common with New Zealand than Cork or Dublin, in that it enjoys mass appeal."
Critics have labelled the play feel-good and idealistic. Some playrights might take offence, but Breen warms to the suggestion. He likes people. He loves his characters.
"There's a lot of humanity in the script. I'm an optimistic guy. My writing reflects that. There aren't really any negative characters there. Everybody is basically pretty decent."
All but three of the 1978 Munster side have come to the show. The players were astonished by Breen's flair for detail and his adroit use of dramatic license. Many singled out his portrayal of Tony Ward, the talismanic playmaker whose jinking runs confounded the All Black back row.
"Tony floats above the game. He's like a philosopher. It's hard to capture his essence, but they tell me we've succeeded. He came along eventually and brought this wife and children. His family couldn't believe the performance. They were going 'Dad, what are you doing up THERE?"
Installed at Dublin's Gaiety Theatre until the end of July, the production is set to visit New Zealand next year. Breen is agog at the prospect. "The impact of New Zealand's defeat reverberated around the world. It still looms large for the All Blacks. They were supposed to be unconquerable. The story possesses all the qualities of classic drama. It's got universal appeal. The play attracts people who have never darkened a theatre before. For a playwright that's an immensely satisfying achievement."
Alone It Stands is at the Gaiety Theatre, Dublin, until July 21st