'Where could I find the colour and shading needed to paint a truer picture of a man that a century of anger and heartache had reduced to one you either love or loathed?' Acclaimed playwright Jimmy Murphy, author of Brothers of the Brush and The Kings of the Kilburn High Road, tackles the life and legend of Michael Collins in his new play The Chief,
"…time will take up the theme from here, will tone it down into history and, later, lovingly embroider it as legend." - John Ryan, from Remembering How We Stood
However lovingly the legend of Michael Collins was embroidered, what is certain is that its cloth has managed to overshadow the real intentions of his signing of the treaty, and his actual reason for driving to Cork in 1922. That it has come to inform so much of the debate surrounding his last days, means all we've been left with is a crude, black and white sketch. A two-dimensioned caricature that even 100 years on, is still a potent topic for discussion.
All great plays should speak to the world and experience of their times, otherwise they become shrill, hollow and tuneless. To even consider one that spoke of Collins to our time, it could only be done if there was something new to say. Another difficulty that presented itself was the fact that I hadn't fully reconciled myself to where exactly I stood on Collins; villain one week, hero the next. How was I to make a play from that contradiction? Where could I find the colour and shading needed to paint a truer picture of a man that a century of anger and heartache had reduced to one you either love or loathed?
Something that challenged my own inherited prejudices had to be found. If I got that, I was halfway there, but a mountain of books, biographies and anecdote needed to be scaled first. Thankfully, within weeks it became clear it was a case of looking at some simple facts. Truths that had lay hidden or lost. But ones, that with even the closest of inspections, revealed an astonishing account as to how and why his troops opened fire that June morning and what, 6 weeks later, was his real purpose for setting off to Cork.
with Collins' great grand nephew Aengus O'Malley (left)
Their clarity was staggering; 6,000 British troops in the Phoenix Park on standby to attack, an alarming speech from Churchill threatening Collins to act tomorrow, or he would. The Belfast brigade of the IRA being paid and armed by Collins, who was sending his new rifles across to the Four Courts replacing the IRA ones he was sending north via Sean Haughey, father of Charlie. Here was Michael Collins times 3, a trinity speaking to the IRA, Churchill and Dail Eireann out of both sides of his mouth and at the same time. That trip south, where he stopped off at Maryborough prison to speak to an IRA prisoner about ending the fighting? Collins knew well what would end the Civil War, resuming the old one. But the IRA leadership were in Cork, he would have to meet them there to agree a plan.
In the end it was straight forward, all I had to do was start with those basic facts, everything began to write itself, that by the end, no matter what side of his legend you find yourself, The Chief will change your mind. Writing it changed mine, profoundly.
The Chief is at Town Hall Theatre, Galway from 8th – 17th September, Westport Town Hall Theatre on 20th September and Backstage Theatre, Longford from 22nd – 24th September - find out more here.
