[Editor’s Note: This interview contains some spoilers for “Small Things Like These.”]
“I didn’t want to play him like a hero. I think he’s actually having a nervous breakdown.”
Coming from Cillian Murphy, it would be fair to think he was talking about his Oscar-winning turn as the father of the atom bomb in last year’s Best Picture recipient, “Oppenheimer,” which wove back and forth through time as the scientist copes with the fallout of his monstrous creation. Instead, Murphy was talking about a character that hits a little closer to home for him, albeit in ways that may, surprisingly, draw comparison with his previous performance.
Set in Murphy’s native Ireland, in the small town of New Ross circa Christmas 1985, “Small Things Like These” revolves around Bill Furlong (Murphy), a coal distributor, husband, father of five daughters, and well-respected community member. Until Bill makes a discovery at the local convent that unearths deeply buried personal trauma and forces him to consider whether it’s even worth being respected by a community that would allow such pain and silence to persist.
“There is a question of morality, right? And culpability. ‘How can I as a man continue on with this knowledge, this kind of immutable knowledge?’” Murphy told IndieWire, during a recent interview, about comparing Bill with J. Robert Oppenheimer. “What do I do with it? Where do I put that? Where does it go? You can see in both cases, how it happens, what effect it has on the person.”
For Bill, the knowledge isn’t that of quantum worlds or technological instruments of mass death, but that of the Catholic Church and its hold on the Irish people. Specifically, Bill becomes increasingly aware of young girls being held and abused by the nuns of his convent, led by a sinister mother superior, Sister Mary (played with dark-eyed, cold-hearted terror by Emily Watson). The story, adapted by Enda Walsh from Claire Keegan’s 2021 novella of the same name, places a human narrative on the stain of Ireland’s Magdalene Laundries.
Beginning in 1795 with the Dublin Magdalene Asylum, these institutions run by Roman Catholic orders supposedly housed and reformed the “fallen women” of Ireland, mainly sex workers, but in truth, they provided havens for nuns to abuse young girls. Some girls were only placed there because they were orphans, deserted by their families, or they just didn’t conform to the standards of society. The last of these facilities was closed less than 30 years ago, in 1996.
“It’s a bit of a reckoning in Ireland, still coming to terms with everything that happened because the last one closed in ‘96. We’re all still struggling, I think, to figure out our response to it,” said Murphy. “There’s been all sorts of commissions and reports and academic papers and all sorts of things, but I think this book and this film, hopefully, it’s a gentler way of looking at it. People can look at it through the eyes of these characters and how it affects real human beings.”
In discussing the Catholic Church, Murphy pointed out that, in Ireland, the Church was everywhere. Eventually, around the time he was making Danny Boyle’s 2007 sci-fi thriller “Sunshine,” and when his first son was born, Murphy embraced atheism but still appreciates what religion can offer people under proper circumstances.
“I have no problem with people who have faith, I really don’t. I have a problem when it is imposed upon people. And I have a problem with absolutism,” Murphy told IndieWire. “And I think that was the problem in Ireland for a long time; it was imposed upon the nation. They controlled hospitals and schools. It was written into the constitution. There was no escaping it, and I think it was Joyce who said that Ireland was colonized twice, once by the British and once by the Church.”
What makes Bill’s story so compelling is not that he takes on the Church in any grand fashion a la “Spotlight,” but that his inner voice and instinct win out despite Sister Mary and even Bill’s wife trying to convince him to stay quiet and do nothing. When, in the end, Bill removes an abused girl from the convent and walks her through town for all to see, back to his home, it isn’t played as some triumphant moment, but as an act of pure humanity. If it was a nervous breakdown that placed Bill in this circumstance, as Murphy acknowledges, it’s a sudden clarity and consciousness that calls forth his better angels.
“The reason, I suppose, I wanted to make it was I felt that it was — specifically about this time in Irish history and about this awful incarceration of young women and girls in Ireland during this period in time — but I felt there was a real universality to the story in terms of what Bill goes through and what he, what he actually does in the end,” said Murphy. “I felt like that people would really connect to it.”
At the same time, he isn’t trying to plant a message in anyone’s head or impress his atheistic beliefs on anyone else. Instead, Murphy hopes “Small Things Like These” brings to light a history that isn’t often discussed, but is worthy of re-evaluation.
“People can take from the film what they like,” he said. “I think good art isn’t prescriptive. It isn’t dogmatic. It should be like, ‘What do you think? Here’s the story we’re telling, what do you think?’”
As for future projects, it looks like Murphy plans on continuing to tell stories with director Tim Mielants, as they recently wrapped another production in July. The film is an adaptation of Max Porter’s novella, “Shy,” retitled “Steve,” and stars Murphy as a headteacher at a school for boys with societal and behavioral issues. The Irish actor and producer is also currently in production on the much-anticipated “Peaky Blinders” film for Netflix. As with “Oppenheimer” and “Small Things Like These,” he hopes to continue doing stories that carry an importance and get people talking.
Murphy told IndieWire, “I’m interested in stories that have a point of view and that can be entertaining, but also kind of provocative.”
“Small Things Like These” will be released in theaters by Roadside Attractions on Friday, November 8.
