Cillian Murphy believes his affinity for the dramatic arts is rooted in his early passion for making music. Speaking from his residence in Monkstown, south Co Dublin, Murphy shares an anecdote about recent footage his father discovered of himself and his brother performing as a teenage band. Murphy had not viewed these tapes in three decades and found it fascinating to notice the dedication they exhibited towards their craft. He recognised in his past self a burning desire to perform which was crystal clear.
Last year, during the height of the Sag-Aftra actors’ strike, I had an opportunity to talk with Murphy. Yet the strike meant certain topics, like his acting endeavours or his starring role in Christopher Nolan’s mega-successful film “Oppenheimer”, were off limits. Today, with the strike at an end and a possible best-actor Oscar in sight for his role in the said film, our conversations have resumed.
Murphy notes that he’s always found comfort in performing, although he finds it challenging to simply be himself amongst strangers. In the words of Brendan Gleeson, acting is ‘the shy man’s revenge’. While he’s at ease with his close friends, he’s uncomfortable with the requirement to display his true self. He understands and accepts life off-stage and the world of work as two separate entities, yet he acknowledges they complement and nourish each other.
After the conclusion of his music gig with the band, The Sons of Mr Green Genes, Murphy found solace on the theatre stage despite having no formal training in acting. He mentions connecting with the mutual energy exchange with the audience and cherishes the unspoken agreement of interaction which ultimately, filled the void left by music.
Cillian Murphy’s initial significant role was in Enda Walsh’s production, Disco Pigs, opposite Eileen Walsh. They depicted a pair of untamed, mutually dependent adolescents from Cork. Murphy recollects, “It was Enda, Eileen, me and Pat Kiernan,” referring to the director of the now non-existent Corcadorca theatre ensemble. “It served as a substitute band for me. We cultivated in-jokes, camaraderie, akin to what we had in the band. When you bond with folks, such situations emerge, and everything feels closely knitted, like a solid unit.”
Murphy’s transition to film impacted that live energy. According to him, “There’s a lack of on-the-spot reaction. Film creation involves tiny building blocks given to the director, producer and editor. In comparison, theatre is a live and repeating experience which provides more control… I had to equip myself, and so I ended up watching countless films and devouring myriad books on the subject.”
As a jobless man, Murphy was a frequent visitor at Hodges Figgis. They served inexpensive coffee and offered refills, attracting Murphy, who wanted to engulf himself in books. He observed this continued reading as his ‘degree’. When he eventually started partnering with accomplished film-makers, it was all about enquiry and trust for him. Like the trust he had in Enda initially, allowing him to venture into areas out of his comfort zone.
I recently reviewed the 2001 film adaptation of Disco Pigs and was captivated by Murphy’s well-developed acting capabilities. His intense, physical presence was already apparent. When asked whether his acting style has evolved over time, he admitted, “When I was younger, I may have excessively pondered over it and was overly critical, over-intellectualising the process.”
Cillian Murphy’s distinct approach to acting was significantly shaped during his role in Ken Loach’s 2006 drama, The Wind That Shakes the Barley, a film about the period of Irish revolution. He explained how working with Loach, who operates without a script, ushered a colossal moment of enlightenment for him. With no foresight into the evolving plot, he abandoned his instincts to analyse and plan, instead adapting a more spontaneous, immersive, and engaging approach. This unique method radically transformed his acting style and has since informed his practices on every project he undertakes, making it an exceedingly worthful experience for him.
Despite his proclivity to overthink, Murphy adopts a different mentality when in character. He rebuffs rehearsing or discussing his roles, instead preferring to dive headfirst into operation. In his perspective, engagement initiates creativity, making incessant analysis a wasted effort that he would rather invest in exploration.
This reclusive actor often partners with familiar faces, including Nolan, Danny Boyle, Enda Walsh, and Max Porter, attributing their repeated collaborations to the strong friendships formed and the inherent trust they share for each other. He talked about the freedom he feels to take risks and make mistakes in the process of creation, pointing out that the enjoyment he derives from these interactions is almost understated.
His first brush with Nolan occurred during an audition for Batman in Nolan’s 2005 film Batman Begins. Murphy revealed that he was immensely impressed with Nolan’s Memento and Insomnia. While he was among many young actors summoned to screen test for Batman, Murphy had no illusions about landing the role. His primary motivation was the opportunity to work in proximity with Nolan.
Discussing his experiences in film and art over numerous hours led to an immediate bond between Murphy and Nolan, culminating in the awarding of the role of Scarecrow in Batman to Murphy. Despite living in different cities – Dublin and Los Angeles respectively – and Nolan’s lack of technological communication, their work-centric relationship has deepened considerably over the past twenty years.
Regarding what Nolan sees in him, Murphy shares a story where Nolan offered him a role in Dunkirk. The script for Dunkirk, described by Murphy as slim and more of a blueprint, consisted of 70 pages and his character did not fully developed. Nevertheless, against Murphy’s wish to play a Spitfire pilot like Hardy, Nolan insisted he join the boat trip, aiming to jointly develop an end for his character – a traumatised soldier. Murphy expresses his pride in being able to represent the myriad of men who returned from the war with severe emotional trauma, despite the role being relatively minor.
Discussing whether his roles linger in his memory, Murphy reflects on his ten-year portrayal of Tommy Shelby on Peaky Blinders. By the time the fifth or sixth series rolled around, he felt the character was influencing his decisions, rather than the other way around. Murphy self-deprecatingly comments on how this sentiment sounds pretentious, though he insists it is the truth.
Murphy admitted that he had agreed to portray J Robert Oppenheimer, the architect of the nuclear bomb, before even laying eyes on Nolan’s red-coloured script. The pages were red to prevent efficient photocopying and the entire narration was in first person. The complexity of Oppenheimer’s moral compass was what stood out for him – an aspect which led Nolan to describe the character as ‘morally tip-toeing between raindrops’. Murphy realised early on he’d need to dive deep into the character’s psyche to portray him convincingly, with subtle and understated acting.
In an effort to truly embody Oppenheimer, Murphy said he mastered standing like him. Aiding this was his love for employing physicality in acting, a habit developed during his time on stage with Enda, a series full of physical comedy and one-man shows. He found the alteration of his body posture as per the character fascinating, given how it affected so many external factors like the way his clothes fit and altered his walk.
Murphy’s depiction of Oppenheimer entailed expressing complex and contrasting emotions with just minor facial expressions. When asked about this, he explained the trick of ‘withholding’ in acting – revealing more by concealing more. He learned this through his film acting experience and by observing others. He said the human thought process is strong enough to be captured by camera lenses, and even more pronounced when projected on an 80ft screen.
While Murphy is usually reticent about discussing his preparations for roles, he has become more accepting of it. His methods have been dissected and scrutinised over the past few months, and he finds the exploration of others’ processes equally intriguing.
Upon asked about his earlier reluctance, he confessed that it came from a fear of losing his instincts. He worried that trying to structure his acting process might cause it to disappear, leaving him in a problematic situation.
While Murphy has often been perceived as somewhat challenging to interview (not that this has been my personal experience), he is never impolite, although perhaps a little reticent. He does chuckle, however, as he quotes Beckett’s take on interviews: ‘I have no views to inter’… He admits that he isn’t fond of personal questions, but believes that discussing his work or the art is completely fair. Notably, he thinks he’s actually improved in this regard thanks to the arduous past few months.
Asked about his decision to follow his role in ‘Oppenheimer’ with ‘Small Things Like These’ – a more intimate film based on Claire Keegan’s novel detailing Irish institutional abuse, he vouches for his genuine interest in the storyline. He’s concerned with how the after-effects of the questionable deeds at the Magdalene laundries and the Catholic Church continue to reverberate within all of us.
[Cillian Murphy’s film on the Magdalene laundries attracts attention at the Berlin festival]
Quizzed on his penchant for historical films, he responds bluntly, “There’s no blasted mobile phones.” He thinks this eliminates the need to accommodate these devices in the storyline, terming them a pain for all scriptwriters and novelists. He sees the increasing significance of mobile phones as one of the main hurdles in crafting contemporary narratives, which he believes, has sabotaged the art of storytelling. He emphasises that stories in which mobiles play no part are more relaxing for the audience, who are otherwise suspicious of conveniently ‘no signal’ situations. He concludes, chuckling at his own exasperation, that mobile phones have compromised storytelling.
Drawing parallels between ‘Oppenheimer’ and ‘Small Things Like These’, I suggest that both tales pertain to the nuclear apprehension and Catholic repression that significantly influenced the world we grew up in during the 70s and 80s. His modest response conveys his belief that I have delved deeper into the subjects than he has. He recalls being drawn to the book, envisioning it as a film and expressing his interest in portraying the central character – a silently resilient man who struggles to adequately express his inner whirlwind of emotions, longing and trauma.
Pulling in as many personal connections as possible, he enlisted the help of friends and colleagues to create the endeavor. He included writer Enda, co-producer Alan Moloney, actress Eileen Walsh and director Tim Mielants, who he previously worked with on Peaky Blinders. In a chance conversation with Matt Damon in the desert whilst filming Oppenheimer, he learned of Matt’s upcoming studio launch with Ben Affleck, to which he seized the opportunity to propose his own venture.
The reunion with Eileen Walsh marked the first time they’d partnered professionally since their early days on Disco Pigs in the 90s. Director Tim Mielants commented on their palpable history during filming, due to their longstanding connection. As one of Murphy’s closest friends and a highly respected actor, their comfortability granted them the ability to explore roles with a distinct depth that would’ve been challenging with a less-familiar partner.
Despite the intrigue from American journalists regarding his relatively modest Irish lifestyle, relocating from London was a rewarding choice for him. He enjoys a pleasant and simple life in Ireland, anticipating a potential return to work in Los Angeles without any immediate intention of relocating there.
His wife, Yvonne McGuinness, a distinguished visual artist herself, and their 16-year-old son, Aran, who has been cast in Taika Waititi’s film adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel Klara and the Sun, lead a household buzzing with animated discussions on literature, theatrical works and television programmes. This, according to Murphy, is a staple in a household with two artistically inclined parents and their inevitably absorbed children.
Art discussion and over-analysis is something he and I both enjoy a tad too much, citing a narrative of a die-hard follower who took up residence on John Lennon’s estate as an example. Despite presenting an array of theories about every track, Lennon simply dismissed most as absurdity, expressing his preference for the sounds and harmonies of words instead. His reaction was kind-hearted yet it understandably burst the bubble of the superfan’s entire existence. One notable point we had previously addressed was the elusive nature of the mood or atmosphere in art determining its acceptance. This is a tricky aspect that resists logical scrutiny. Dive into language and we see an ecstatic need to confer meaning, a requirement not applicable to a piece of visual art or musical composition. Enda, for instance, retorts to the inquiry about the essence of a play with an offhand “It’s approximately an hour and a half”. In his view, projects that offer a degree of difficulty, ambiguity, and complexity are more enjoyable, while ones that dictate emotion are disdained.
Winning the best-actor accolades at the Bafta and Screen Actors Guild awards this year for his role in Oppenheimer has been a delightful experience for Murphy, exceeding his initial expectations. The highlight for him has been the numerous opportunities to mingle with fellow artists he respects and engage in enlightening conversations about their crafts. The sight of the burgeoning Irish talent in Hollywood, including Barry Keoghan, Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Ed Guiney, and Andrew Lowe, has been particularly captivating. This growth testifies the significant impact of Irish artists on the cinematic world.
When it comes to how he felt upon receiving news about his Oscar nomination, he narrated a casual moment of enjoying a cup of tea with his mother who then proceeded to present a celebratory cake.
When asked about the reason for the international recognition of Irish art, Murphy suggested that it could be largely attributed to the support and promotion of emerging talents. He commends the efforts of Screen Ireland, and emphasises the importance of governmental funding. He also underscores the role of his generation in backing upcoming filmmaking and acting virtuosos. He fondly recalled his early professional experiences with Brendan Gleeson, whom he describes as open-hearted, patient, and kind enough to offer him support.
On being asked about the entrance of his son Aran into the acting domain, Murphy acknowledged that it has made him more aware of his supportive role. He also proudly mentioned that Aran ventured into that world independently. He further expressed his excitement for the new generation of actors, praising the exceptional performances of Barry Keoghan and Paul Mescal.
Questioned about his feelings toward the upcoming Oscar ceremony, Murphy admitted that he tends to get anxious. However, he also recognises that there’s nothing one can do about the outcome, advocating instead trying to enjoy the night. As to whether he desires an Oscar, Murphy chose to remain silent, giving a cheeky “no comment” in response.