In the end, the young cast and crew were on the road for 18 months. But it became a smash and ran and ran.ĭisco Pigs transferred to Dublin, then to Edinburgh, then London, then Europe, Australia and north America. It was written by Enda Walsh, then an unknown playwright, and booked to run for a few weeks at Cork’s Triskel Arts Centre. Before long, he was cast in a two-hander called Disco Pigs, about a pair of strange, inseparable teens on a night out in Cork. Afterwards, he started petitioning the theatre company, Corcadorca, to give him an audition. He remembers dry ice, a DJ, mohawked performers on stilts coming out into the audience to make trouble. One night, out with friends, he watched an adaptation of A Clockwork Orange, a weird and ambitious production staged in a nightclub. Murphy was bored and in the second year of a law degree over the years, he had performed with amateur bands, singing and playing guitar, but had not tried acting before. At the very end of that long, fierce scene – a piece of properly unforgettable telly – he staggered away looking almost aggrieved not to have been finally put down.īut enter into that world he did – belatedly, headlong – in 1996, when he was a 20-year-old undergraduate at University College Cork.
#The rest of my days series#
The new series will pick up after a second-series finale during which Shelby avoided execution in a muddy field. He’s shot both enemies and friends in the head.
He’s endured beatings, bullets to the chest, amateurish and punitive dentistry. By my count, Murphy’s character gets a cocked gun pressed to his temple at least once an episode. Knife fights are not infrequent, but it would be an uncharacteristically benign episode of Peaky Blinders were Tommy Shelby to be threatened only with razors. The drama, written by Steven Knight, is named for Tommy’s gang of crooks – known as “Peaky Blinders” because of the razor blades, or blinders, they keep hidden in the folds of their peaked caps. We agree it seems most unlikely, in the show’s immediate future, that the character of Tommy Shelby will wring his hands and ponder the existentials of turning 40. “It’s only an advantage as an actor,” he smiles when I point this out, “looking younger than you are.
We meet in a London park on a bright and chilly spring day, and it strikes me that Murphy (slender, slouching, his cheeks reddened by cold and a long fringe swept boyishly to one side) would not look out of place with a muddy football under his arm. It’s funny to hear Murphy speak this way about getting on, especially because the 39-year-old could still be mistaken, at first glance, for a teenager. Now I’m ready for a bit more… decorum, I guess? A bit more moderation? Still enjoying being a young man, but looking over the wall into the other side, you know?” I had a really good time in my 20s and 30s. “I feel like I’m entering a different phase of my life,” he says. These days, this is not even an uncommon scenario. Last night, he says, he was in bed by 10, falling asleep to the comforting murmur of The World Tonight on Radio 4. But neither does he sound histrionic or weepy. “Just a couple of months.” A placid and even-spoken man, Cork-born and with an iron Corkonian modesty at the core of him, Murphy does not sound overjoyed about his approaching milestone. “I’ll be turning 40,” the Irish actor says. S oon it will be Cillian Murphy’s birthday.
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