“We’ve Moved On”: Cillian Murphy on the Evolving Conversation Around Men’s Mental Health in Ireland

Cillian Murphy has never been one to chase headlines. Yet in recent years, the acclaimed Irish actor has emerged as a thoughtful voice in one of Ireland’s most important cultural conversations: men’s mental health. Known globally for his intense roles—from the brooding Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders to his Oscar-winning turn as J. Robert Oppenheimer—Murphy speaks with a quiet authority that resonates beyond the screen. And when he talks about Irish men, stoicism, and the changing emotional landscape of the country, people listen.

In an October 2024 interview with RTÉ, Murphy reflected on his role in Small Things Like These, a film set in 1980s Ireland. “I recognised that man,” he said of his character—a man molded by silence, shame, and emotional repression. But, he added, “Irishmen and their ability to communicate have moved on.” In those few words, Murphy captured a deep societal shift, one that has been unfolding quietly but meaningfully in Irish homes, schools, and cultural spaces.

Historically, Irish masculinity has been tightly bound to stoicism—an inherited silence, passed from father to son, that left little room for vulnerability. Murphy understands that legacy. In a 2022 interview with The Irish Times, he admitted, “I think sometimes Irish people are a little afraid of emotion. And I think I was probably saved from that by acting.” For Murphy, performance offered an outlet—a way to break free from those internal restraints and explore the emotional terrain that Irish men are so often taught to avoid.

But Murphy isn’t just observing this evolution from the sidelines. He’s helping to shape it. In his 2022 interview with Independent.ie, he spoke candidly about raising two sons with his wife, Yvonne McGuinness. “It’s all about communication and being as open as possible,” he said. “I think raising boys in today’s landscape is tricky enough.” That acknowledgment—of both the opportunity and the difficulty—strikes at the heart of a generational shift.

Part of that effort includes his support for initiatives like Ionbhá: The Empathy Book for Ireland, a collection of essays and stories aimed at cultivating compassion among young people. The project, with proceeds benefiting empathy programs in Irish schools, has reached over 100 institutions. It’s a small but powerful step toward fostering emotional intelligence in boys and girls alike—equipping them with the tools their fathers and grandfathers may never have had.

Murphy’s influence is especially important given his cultural standing. He’s an international star, but he still lives in Ireland. He gardens. He rides his bike. He’s present in his community. That groundedness gives his words a rare authenticity. When he says that Irish men are learning to open up—to talk, to feel, to seek help—it means something.

Still, Murphy doesn’t romanticize the progress. He knows that in many parts of Ireland, especially rural areas, the old codes remain strong. There is still shame. There is still silence. There is still the expectation that men will endure rather than express. But even as he acknowledges those challenges, Murphy sees movement. And that, he suggests, is reason for hope.

The contrast between his current advocacy and the historical backdrop of his recent film work—particularly Small Things Like These, rooted in Ireland’s institutional abuses and emotional repression—only sharpens the message. This isn’t just about acting. It’s about using storytelling to illuminate how far a society has come—and how far it still needs to go.

In the end, Murphy’s message is simple but profound: Irish men are no longer defined solely by their ability to suffer in silence. There’s strength in vulnerability. There’s power in empathy. And perhaps most importantly, there’s hope in the next generation of Irish boys learning to speak their truths.