Netflix has finally lifted the curtain on one of Hollywood’s most enigmatic stars — Cillian Murphy — and what’s been revealed has left fans stunned. Known for his hauntingly intense performances, icy blue eyes, and quiet mystery, Murphy has always been an actor who preferred to let his work speak for him. But in this newly released Netflix feature, the Irish actor opens up like never before, and what he confesses about his life, fame, and struggles behind the scenes has taken the world by surprise.
The documentary begins with a grainy clip of a young Murphy performing on stage in Cork, long before he became the global phenomenon that is Thomas Shelby. His soft-spoken voice, his uncertain but passionate gaze — it’s a rare glimpse into a man who would one day command the screen with quiet authority. As the narration sets in, the tone becomes darker, hinting that behind the success, the awards, and the acclaim lies a deep and often painful truth. Murphy’s confession is not about scandal or gossip, but about the very cost of becoming who he is today.
For decades, Murphy has avoided the trappings of celebrity life. He doesn’t do social media, rarely gives interviews, and lives far away from Hollywood in his native Ireland. For fans, this has only added to his mystique. But in the Netflix special, he admits that this detachment was not only a personal choice but a necessity. “I couldn’t handle the noise,” he confesses in one scene, his voice low and reflective. “Fame felt like losing myself — and I wasn’t ready to let go of who I was.”
The film dives into his early years — his strict Catholic upbringing, his family’s expectations, and how he originally wanted to be a musician before acting took over. Through rare home footage, we see a teenage Cillian rehearsing with his band, lost in the rhythm of music, unaware that destiny was already steering him elsewhere. “Music was my first love,” he says in a reflective interview. “But acting… acting became my way of understanding the world.”
As his career took off with films like 28 Days Later and Breakfast on Pluto, Murphy was thrust into the spotlight almost overnight. The documentary shows behind-the-scenes clips from his early days in London — an Irish actor trying to navigate a city that both fascinated and frightened him. He speaks about the loneliness of those years, the pressure to fit in, and how success sometimes felt like an illusion. “People think success fills the emptiness,” he says quietly, “but sometimes, it only makes the silence louder.”
Then comes the section that has left viewers around the world shaken — Murphy’s candid discussion about Peaky Blinders. For years, fans have adored his portrayal of Tommy Shelby — the ruthless, emotionally complex leader of the Shelby family. But in the documentary, Murphy reveals that stepping into Tommy’s world took a heavier toll than anyone knew. “It got dark,” he admits. “I didn’t realize how much of him I was carrying home with me.”
The documentary intercuts interviews with the Peaky Blinders cast, all of whom speak about how deeply Murphy immersed himself in the role. Director Steven Knight says, “Cillian didn’t just play Tommy Shelby — he became Tommy Shelby. There were days you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.”
Murphy admits that during filming, he often isolated himself, staying in character even off set. He reveals that it began to affect his sleep, his mood, and even his relationships. “There were moments I felt like I was disappearing into him,” he says. “Tommy’s pain, his guilt, his violence — they weren’t just words on a page. They started to live inside me.”
It’s here that the documentary reveals its most vulnerable moment: Murphy breaking down while reflecting on the final season. The pressure of perfection, the loss of his longtime co-star Helen McCrory (who played Polly Gray), and the emotional weight of saying goodbye to a character that defined a decade of his life all collided. “When Helen passed,” he says with visible emotion, “it broke something in all of us. She was the soul of the show. After that, it never felt the same.”
The documentary shows unseen footage from behind the scenes — the cast gathered quietly on set, the silence that fell between takes, the tears that came when cameras stopped rolling. Murphy admits that he struggled to continue filming after McCrory’s death. “I didn’t want to keep being Tommy,” he says. “He had taken too much from me already.”
But it isn’t all darkness. Netflix also captures moments of healing and reflection — Murphy at home in Ireland, walking through quiet fields, surrounded by family. Away from the chaos of the screen, he looks at peace. His laughter, though rare, feels genuine. He talks about the simple things that keep him grounded — his wife, his children, the sound of the ocean, and the comfort of being anonymous in his hometown. “When I’m here,” he says, “I’m just Cillian. No one cares about Tommy Shelby.”
One of the documentary’s most surprising reveals is Murphy’s deep sense of insecurity, something few would ever suspect from such a commanding performer. “I’ve never felt like I belonged in Hollywood,” he confesses. “Even when people call me a star, I don’t see it. I’m just pretending to know what I’m doing, same as everyone else.”
His humility is both disarming and moving. Co-stars and directors describe him as a perfectionist — quiet on set, deeply focused, never satisfied with his own work. Christopher Nolan, who worked with him on Oppenheimer and several other films, says, “Cillian is one of those rare actors who doesn’t act for applause. He acts to tell the truth. That’s what makes him extraordinary — and what makes him suffer.”
The documentary takes a darker turn again when Murphy discusses the pressure of constantly being in the public eye. Even without social media, he says, the scrutiny never stops. “It’s strange,” he reflects. “People feel like they know you because they’ve seen you bleed on screen. But they don’t. They know the character. They don’t know the person who goes home at night and wonders if any of it means anything.”
He opens up about moments of doubt — times he considered walking away from acting altogether. “There were days I thought, maybe this isn’t worth it. Maybe I should just disappear.” Yet, what brought him back each time, he says, was the work itself. “Acting is the only place I can be honest without being afraid. It’s paradoxical — I hide behind characters to tell my truth.”
