For Barry Keoghan, an actor praised for his fearlessness and psychological depth, joining the world of Peaky Blinders should have felt like familiar territory. Instead, it triggered an unexpected mental block—one so intense it left an entire table read frozen in silence. The culprit wasn’t a violent scene or a moral descent, but a single, legendary phrase: “By order of the Peaky Blinders.”
Keoghan has built a career on inhabiting discomfort, from his Oscar-nominated turn in The Banshees of Inisherin to his unnerving presence in Saltburn. Yet while preparing for the upcoming feature film Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man, he discovered that legacy can be just as paralyzing as any dark character psychology.
“I Felt Like an Imposter”
During early rehearsals, Keoghan admitted that every attempt to say the iconic seven words caused his throat to tighten. It wasn’t nerves in the traditional sense, but what he described as a kind of “imposter phenomenon.” The shadow of Tommy Shelby—immortalized by Cillian Murphy—felt overwhelming. The line, he felt, didn’t belong to him.
“I genuinely felt like I shouldn’t be allowed to say it,” Keoghan confessed, half-joking, half-dead serious. “It’s sacred. It’s not just dialogue—it’s history.”
That hesitation reportedly culminated in a surreal moment at the table read, when Keoghan paused and asked director Tom Harper if he even had permission to deliver the line. Crew members—many of whom had worked on the series since its 2013 debut—fell silent. The atmosphere turned almost superstitious, as if invoking the phrase too soon might disturb the ghosts of Small Heath.
Leading the New Generation
Written by series creator Steven Knight, The Immortal Man shifts the story into 1940s Birmingham during World War II. Keoghan plays the leader of a volatile “new generation” of gangsters, a role designed to echo—but not replicate—the menace of the original Shelby brothers.
Ironically, it was Murphy himself who finally pulled Keoghan into the Peaky universe. The two bonded while working on Dunkirk, and after years of near-misses due to scheduling conflicts, Murphy personally called him about the film. Keoghan didn’t hesitate. “At the drop of a hat,” he said.
From Fear to Fuel
By the time cameras rolled, Keoghan had transformed his anxiety into creative energy. He leaned fully into his method process—ditching his phone, isolating himself, and mentally living in the 1940s. The once-forbidden phrase became less a burden and more a rite of passage.
Now, as The Immortal Man gears up for its Birmingham premiere, early buzz suggests Keoghan’s performance doesn’t compete with Peaky Blinders’ legacy—it confronts it head-on. In the end, the line that once silenced the room may define a bold bridge between the old guard and what comes next.