When you come across someone from the show business, they often inquire about your future plans. I find myself wondering, do they know of my situation but are too apprehensive to speak about it? Or have they totally missed my absence? After being in the industry for three decades, appearing in continuous shows, my career suddenly came to a halt. It raises the question, didn’t anyone notice or were my performances so insignificant that no one missed me?
With a career in stage performance and TV, Peter Hanly had positioned himself as a leading figure in the industry, working with Rough Magic and featuring on Abbey, as well as Gate and several other platforms. Evident through his remarkable performances in Braveheart and Ballykissangel, his acting prowess was certainly praiseworthy, his versatility let him excel in diverse roles from comedy to serious drama. However, he disappeared from the scene unexpectedly. Why did he vanish?
It was stage fear that led to his withdrawal. In 2011 at a dress rehearsal for Brian Friel’s play, Molly Sweeney at the Gate Theatre in Dublin, he was encompassed by an unexpected and intense fear of forgetting his lines. Unable to shake off the fear, he continued his performance somehow. The play being a monologue required him to remember a hefty number of lines. He wanted to flee from the stage during the rehearsal, he knew he had memorized the lines but couldn’t believe he will remember them when required. The fear persisted for the next eighteen months until it prompted him to quit.
Surprisingly, Hanly discusses his experience on stage after 13 years. He has written and is currently performing in a play about his journey. He relies on a hand-held script or an autocue, with the support of two other actors and advanced stage technology. A snippet of the script, a work under progress, was presented this month by its producers, Rough Magic and Kilkenny Arts Festival. The final performance is scheduled to premiere at next year’s Kilkenny festival and will later move on to the Dublin Theatre Festival, and if funding permits, a tour might also be in the pipeline.
“What Are You Afraid Of?” signifies a remarkably polished work currently under development, assembling fragments of an episodic script in a smoothly executed production filled with theatrical nuances, interactive experimentation with spotlights, voiceovers, and video. It captivates, encouraging introspection, presenting poignant, yet humorous content in a rather dark tone. It gives the impression that the completed production will be extraordinary.
The day following, Hanly expresses how his initial inspiration to write was driven by the idea of “utilising my stage fright as a catalyst for me to return to the stage and showcase my writing. For me, writing has been a deliverance – it’s also an act of retribution. The term ‘revenge’ sounds rather theatrical and conveys negative vibes, but indeed it is, albeit with a grain of salt. I’m seeking vengeance on my stage fright, discovering something positive from a negative.”
Hanly’s preliminary concept involved initiating the dialogue from amongst the audience, with the stage organiser’s voice making preliminary announcements clearly audible to the spectators. He equated himself to “a scared Pavlov’s dog, reacting but resisting, asserting, ‘No, no, I’m not involved,’ yet she persists and I am compelled to step onstage. I possess an inherent urgency proclaiming that ‘the show must go on’ within me. So I began to speak.” As the project evolved, different characters were introduced: a critical voice of the stage organiser, Hanly’s great-grandfather and various therapists he seeks assistance from.
The work-in-progress was exhibited to a receptive and hugely admiring festival crowd of over 400 at the full-house Watergate Theatre. A sense of thrill and exuberance prevailed. “After many years, I experienced that reaction,” he reveals. It resonated with the actor’s personal experiences, but also delved into the universal themes of anxiety, vulnerability, and fear, thereby broadening its appeal. After the curtains dropped, it took Hanly close to an hour to leave the theatre, cross the street to Cleere’s Bar and join his mates. “I enjoyed the delay, as I was approached by people; audience members, family, theatre folks.”
Prior to the act, he had strolled around the theatre with the show’s authentic stage manager, Emily Waters. “I felt calm. I experienced that spark of nervous anticipation. I thought: This holds value, and much of it is successful; possibly the entire project. And, I cautioned myself: do it justice.”
After ceasing his performances, Hanly shifted his focus to script writing and was even awarded development funding from Screen Ireland for one of his scripts. Unfortunately, it was never produced. Given his background in theatre, he naturally gravitated back to drama. Hanly delighted in the rehearsals and collaboration with the theatre team at Rough Magic, which held a reading with family and friends one year prior. A part of his work was also featured during the theatre company’s 40-year festivities in February. The exhibition in Kilkenny was immensely rewarding for him.
However, Hanly struggles with the fear of forgetting lines. Despite his vast experience, including radio plays, readings and performances like Bloody Sunday: Scenes from the Saville Inquiry at the Abbey’s Peacock platform, he fears for his memory. In all his previous ventures, scripts were available and thus, he remained unchallenged and at peace. However, when it comes to delivering lines he had learnt by rote, he is beset by anxiety. This is not a fear of performing before an audience, but the fear that he might not remember his lines.
Despite everything, Hanly admits he is yet to conquer his anxieties. If he were to be proposed a comfortable acting role with manageable lines, dread and despair would still haunt him. It was these experiences that persuaded him to distance himself from acting.
Hanly also acknowledges a loss of his personal identity. Acting, according to him, is more of a calling than a profession. Without it, Hanly questions who one really becomes. When too much personal identity is invested in acting, not being an actor can feel like losing oneself.
Hanly faced a sudden halt in his acting career that put a stop to his earnings. Being solely dependent on acting for his livelihood for three decades, the sudden termination of his income source was a tough blow in multiple ways. It affected his self-respect, pride, and left him penniless. Being unable to contribute as significantly to the family finances and with little optimism, he found the situation quite dire. Thankfully, his wife, Jen, stepped up, taking on different jobs to ensure the household’s financial stability and pay their mortgage debts. In doing so, she enabled Hanly to pause.
Jennifer O’Dea, Hanly’s wife, is also an actress as well as involved in corporate role-play and executive coaching. They are parents to a 21-year-old daughter and an 18-year-old son. She provided him with great support throughout this difficult period, and now, a glimmer of hope emerges as things slowly get back on track.
Hanly appreciates the feedback on ‘What Are You Afraid Of?’, his examination of performance anxiety. Viewers resonated with the emotions surrounding grief and loss. Some actors also related strongly to the show, acknowledging that it presents a reality they’re all too familiar with. It especially hits home for long-standing actors who regularly grapple with performance anxiety. According to Hanly, it’s not a rookie’s stage-fright but a question of self-doubt in the abilities of seasoned actors despite years of experience.
He referred to a recent Netflix documentary, ‘Simone Biles Rising’, which highlights a similar instance of the gymnast unexpectedly losing faith in her abilities during the Tokyo Olympics 2021. He likened it to an actor’s creeping self-doubt and clarified that it’s an irrational fear, not linked to any physical barrier or real memory issues.
Hanly now looks forward to reviewing and refining his script, mulling over its conclusion. He acknowledges that there are no uncomplicated closures.
Aside from his newest show, the possibility of his return to acting, maybe with the aid of in-ear technology or autocue, remains up to theatre management’s discretion. He expresses hesitation towards in-ear devices, but still pursues other performance avenues like readings and radio plays. Although he maintains that the current play is not a stepping stone back to regular stage work, he expresses a desire to continue writing scripts. Unfortunately, he isn’t ready to plunge back into recurrent productions due to his personal circumstances.
He’s written multiple scripts that have garnered attention from theatres, and has sought project funding from the Arts Council, hoping for a future as a playwright. Acknowledging the importance of his actor friends, he doesn’t wish to criticise them, acknowledging they form a significant part of his life and community. The show includes darker scenes reflecting his personal struggles over the past 12 years, among them, his own unsuccessful experiences with therapy.
The talented actor Peter Hanly once portrayed vulnerability and nuance in his performances, which is still evident in his persona off-stage. He’s touched by people who express a longing for his return, but despite these sentimental moments, he deals with doubt questioning if his acting career had any impact during quieter, solitary periods. This play reflects this negativity, the darker self-destructive themes, and a space to showcase feelings of loss and grief – a way for him to thieve better by expressing them, and in doing so, seeks to connect with the audience over the universal struggle of self-esteem and internal destructive forces.
The author candidly addresses where he feels he has fallen short as a father, a particular point of self-criticism that he wrestled with whether to include due to its raw and revealing nature. Yet, he believes it’s an experience shared by many parents, particularly fathers who may not be as open discussing challenging emotions. The hope is to reach out to audience members who might be too hard on themselves as parents, offering them reassurance that they are not alone. He asserts the profound idea that we are all doing our best, most of the time.
His own journey was also marked by the mentorship from Gerry Stembridge, which he appreciated. Stembridge was more than just a sympathetic ear, he backed up his support with his time and continued to provide valuable feedback on his work. The author credits his patience and unwavering support for his writing career. He also acknowledges no work would be possible without the encouragement and support from Rough Magic, Lynne, Olga Barry and Kilkenny. He is appreciative of their faith, which led them to collaborate with him early on.
After an extended period away, returning to the stage was surreal. Being gently eased into an atmosphere of empathy and celebration brought about by a receptive audience was a wonderful experience. As for the future, he is optimistic about the upcoming performance at the Kilkenny festival in 2025 and harbors hopes for a sold-out run.