Please, Please, Please Father: Catholic Repression and Irish Boy Obsession
Paul Mescal, Andrew Scott, Barry Keoghan, Cillian Murphy, Niall Horan, Ayo Edibiri… the list goes on. In August of 2023, ELLE Magazine declared it was ‘Hot Irish Guy Summer’. Raw sex appeal was never our strong point, so how have these pale, lanky men become heartthrobs and Oscar darlings? The answer lies in Ireland’s deeply religious history and how Catholicism has traditionally demonised sexuality. This has resulted in a repressed, guilt-ridden people, who truly have no idea how to act under the spotlight.
The myriad of media which sparked the thirst for these Hibernian Heartthrobs, I believe can be traced to the April 2019 release of Season Two of Fleabag, by Phoebe Waller-Bridge. Co-starring Andrew Scott as the cool, sweary, g-and-t drinking, incredibly hot Hot Priest — the character is only credited as ‘Priest’, the internet added the ‘Hot’ — the popularity of the show peaked during lockdown. This was followed by the TV adaptation of Normal People, Sally Rooney’s 2018 novel; the epitome of the sad-girl-lit-fic genre, imbued with observations of Irish struggles with intimacy and communication. Paul Mescal and Daisy Edgar Jones bring electrifying, tender chemistry to the screen, and Mescal embodied Connell Waldron perfectly (melancholy, anxious and repressed). And, in June of 2020, Paul Mescal was photographed on the streets of Dublin carrying a beer, a packet of chips, wearing the shortest GAA shorts ever seen.
Irish creatives have enjoyed numerous global accolades more recently, with a record-breaking 14 Academy Award nominations for Irish stories and talent in 2023. An Cailín Ciúin or The Quiet Girl made history as the first nomination for an Irish-language Best International Film. Paul Mescal, Barry Keoghan, and Cillian Murphy enjoyed accolades in the 2024 awards season, and everyone is still talking about dirty bathwater and dad dancing.
To the rest of the world, Irish people have a somewhat spotty reputation, littered with stereotypes about drinking, stupidity, and violence, as well as harmful beliefs about terrorist or mafia associations. Ireland has an expansive diaspora. Every Irish person I know has a similar story of ignorance, microaggressions, and the same questions over and over again. However, Irish culture has exploded into the zeitgeist, and it’s only getting bigger.
Ireland is a historically marginalised country. Catholicism, brought over by St Patrick, was initially used to order the Pagan Irish society, with local monasteries holding political and fiscal power. After the Tudor invasion, the English Monarchy attempted to inject Protestantism into Ireland and it… didn’t go well. Now, Catholicism is an important part of Irish national identity, and Irish Catholicism is referred to as an ethno-religion; many people identify with this shared culture whether they are religious or not. It’s a distinct branch of Catholicism that’s extra big on the guilt, deeply entrenched in tradition, and hugely concerned with outward appearances.
Some Markers of the Irish Catholic
A deep, pervasive sense of guilt. Irish Catholic guilt is not just guilt necessarily about actual sins, religious or moral, but rather a general guilt and shame at even just being alive. Irish people are experts at apologising, practised in taking up as little space as possible. This need for self-flagellation can only be bred in a pew.
A general affinity for misery and sadness. With a history as battered as ours, it’s no surprise most Irish media is bleak, bleak, and more bleak. When I visit home, my family’s favourite way to catch up is by listing the neighbours who have died since I was last there. The Irish obsession with misery is certainly a product of the hardships the nation has endured, emphasised by the above Catholic need for humility. Recently, Paul Mescal has been spearheading the hot ‘sadboy’ movement, but let’s not forget “Ah, there goes that dream.”
An excellent grasp of shame and bashfulness. This is certainly close to guilt, but more acutely presents as a near-permanent state of embarrassment. The unwillingness to take a compliment, the hatred of the spotlight.
‘Notions’. This is an intensely Irish concept that is difficult to explain. It’s close to being pretentious, or getting too big for your boots, like delusions of grandeur but more like delusions of upper-middle-class. Think Tall Poppy Syndrome compounded with hundreds of years of religious social norm enforcement. The excessive embarrassment of Irish celebrities, the horror at being praised, is certainly to avoid appearing as someone who ‘has notions’.
Like the well-loved Australian pastime of ribbing your loved ones, Irish affection is expressed similarly. When an Irish person loves you, they will air your dirtiest laundry and prey on your deepest insecurities to procure a laugh. Why do you think people keep bringing up that sausage advertisement Paul Mescal did? Even our own Irish Times recently said “…looking at the Irish artists who have been bothering the shortlists for Oscars, Bookers, Emmys, and Brit awards and seeing some of the innovation happening at home, there are reasons to remain hopeful.” Even in a national paper, in an article which discusses the need for funding in the arts and the richness of Irish talent, we can’t help but feel like a bother!
So, what’s the connection to the recent explosion of Irish culture? Hollywood — Americans — love Irish people. As they cling to whatever tentative Irish heritage they possess, the appreciation/appropriation of Irish culture by Americans is oh-so common. Ayo Edebiri joked in an interview about playing the donkey in The Banshees of Inisherin, which led to the internet backing her up and ‘confirming’ her Irishness. The joke has spiralled, and the actress regularly discusses her “Irish heritage”, even shouting out various counties on the red carpet of the Emmys. I believe these bashful, sarcastic, socially awkward, painfully shy celebrities are a refreshing alternative to the overly sincere Americans or traditional, stiff, and polite British who dominate silver screens. They’ve still got a cute accent, but without the colonial baggage an English sweetheart would carry. The vulnerability, the lack of fake tan, the gappy teeth; these actors are even more attractive for how ‘not Hollywood’ they are.
The rise of the ultra-private, introverted celebrity has coincided with this Hibernophilic phenomenon. Cillian Murphy epitomises this; we saw him being dragged around during the Awards Season/Barbenheimer press mania, and it is clear that he despises it. His Oppenheimer co-star, Emily Blunt, said “He is the world’s best actor and the world’s worst celebrity”. The girlies’ online delight over footage of him zoning out in interviews, stuttering at journalists, and asking what a meme is. He has no social media presence and lives a very private life in Dublin City. It seems his offline life, his introversion, only further incenses his admirers. Celebrities are retreating from social media for their own wellbeing, yet fans continue to lust after them in spite of this.
In contrast, there is no observed equivalent hysteria for Irish actresses. Saoirse Ronan has been internationally successful for a very young age, and Jessie Buckley and Kerry Condon have received significant accolades in recent years. After gaining popularity on Derry Girls, Galway native Nicola Coughlan starred in Season Three of Bridgerton, the 6th most-watched Netflix season ever. Coughlan was subject to a significant amount of both scrutiny and objectification, however the reporting around her sex scenes focussed on how empowered she was; she thanked the audience at the Season Three premiere for their support of “women with my body type…that is, with perfect breasts.” Conversely, Cillian Murphy said of the sex scenes in Oppenheimer, “no one likes doing them, they’re the most awkward possible part of our job.”Why is the reaction to Coughlan’s naked body so different to Murphy’s, Mescal’s, or Keoghan’s? She is certainly admired, but the internet isn’t as brazenly horny about it. Is it her appealing charm and humour in the face of the body-shaming she has faced? Maybe we have finally concluded that objectifying women is bad?
Why are we so obsessed with these men who are clearly so uncomfortable? Nothing is more attractive than something you can’t have; that’s what makes the Hot Priest so hot! That’s why private or non-existent Instagram accounts are so desirable. These men are vulnerable, honest, and embarrassed. Hot, hot, and hot. We want them to be a little nervous, a little objectified. They don’t want us looking at them! It’s fun, right? And really, after all the money for acting school or the Trinity College drama course, surely, they should’ve expected this?
This year, a BBC reporter asked Andrew Scott about Barry Keoghan’s use of prosthetics for the nude dance scene at the end of Saltburn, asking Scott, “How well do you know him?”Scott is visibly uncomfortable, and laughs, waving the reporter off, and the internet went nuts. People were horrified, and rightly so. While many of their works include erotic or nude scenes, the treatment of intimacy in Irish media is incredibly delicate. Even in a camp film like Saltburn, Keoghan’s character’s nakedness at the end of the film is a symbol of Oliver’s freedom. He’s won; he can do whatever he likes in this, his mansion. In Fleabag, when she and the priest finallysleep together, there is a spectacular moment where Phoebe Waller-Bridge looks to the camera, and pushes the lens down — we aren’t allowed to see this moment. It’s too important. Purity culture in Ireland has made sex an especially secret, dirty thing. When Irish people are sexual on screen, there is a cultural barrier they must cross to access this vulnerability. Cultural insensitivity to this, in the form of this extreme obsession and objectification, compounds this issue. This is why the bawdy jokes about being railed by priests or dangling silver chains leave a bitter taste in my mouth.