Cillian Murphy quite literally wandered into acting. At the age of 20, he walked up to the door of the Corcadorca Theatre Company in his hometown of Cork, Ireland, and knocked. He told the person who answered that he’d be interested in getting involved in any upcoming shows, and the man suggested he try out for a new play called “Disco Pigs,” about a pair of reckless teenagers. It was Murphy’s first audition, and he got the part.

The Enda Walsh play was a big success, moving to larger and larger theaters and eventually leading to a film adaptation in 2001 from director Kirsten Sheridan. That film caught the eye of filmmaker Danny Boyle, then looking to cast a fresh face for his post-apocalyptic thriller “28 Days Later.”

The rest is history — or history in the making as, 20 years later, Murphy is continuing to seek out bold projects with some of the best filmmakers working today. That includes Christopher Nolan, who first brought Murphy to supervillain stardom in “Batman Begins” and who directs the actor in the titular role in “Oppenheimer,” now in theaters. It’s their sixth collaboration, and Murphy’s biggest role yet, playing the complex physicist and “father of the atomic bomb” over a course of several years and a three-hour runtime. It’s one of Murphy’s finest performances, which is saying a lot.

There isn’t a genre or a medium the actor has shied away from over the years. And while some films might not always work as a whole, Murphy always shines. He’s also a true actor’s actor, one who understands every role is integral and is comfortable taking on supporting parts. Here’s a look at 10 of his best performances from his career on stage, film and television.

This is how most of the world was introduced to Murphy — a pair of impossibly blue eyes fill the screen as his character, a bicycle courier named Jim, awakes from a coma in Danny Boyle’s heralded action epic. He’s been asleep less than a month, but a lot can happen in that time — including the complete collapse of society thanks to a virus called “Rage” that turns its victims into mindless aggressors. (Note that the Z-word is never uttered throughout the film.) It’s a star-making turn for Murphy, only 24 at the time, who not only carries the film but holds his own against such impressive cast members as Brendan Gleeson and Naomie Harris as fellow survivors. Jim is discovering everything at the same time as the viewer, and Murphy makes the perfect audience surrogate, taking everything in with a suitably shocked but level-headed demeanor. He’s not a traditional action hero, and that’s the point: He’s just an ordinary man trying to navigate an entirely new world.

Prior to Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy, films adapted from comics were a largely uplifting affair full of primary colors and bright locations. It’s easy to forget how much had to go right for “Batman Begins” to succeed, but it started with finding a villain who was as compelling as his nemesis. Though Murphy originally tested for Bruce Wayne/Batman, it was a stroke of genius that Nolan would peg him as Dr. Jonathan Crane, aka Scarecrow. With a charisma that can be both terrifying and seductive (which would become a Murphy speciality in years to come) Crane doesn’t need to showboat he’s the bad guy. Rather, he exudes a calm confidence, taking his time with methodical precision. Even the way he says the word “Batman,” drawing it out into two separate words, is chilling. It was wise of Nolan to include Scarecrow in the film’s two sequels — particularly in “The Dark Knight Rises,” where he pops up as a judge in a kangaroo courtroom with a smirk (“Exile or death?”) that shows he’s enjoying this almost as much as the audience is.

It would be easy to dismiss Wes Craven’s tight thriller — largely set onboard a red-eye flight in which a terrorist threatens a fellow passenger in order to pull off an assassination plot at the hotel she manages — because it’s so damn fun. But it’s also a clever, lean thriller buoyed by two actors toward the beginning of their film careers. Murphy is the perhaps too-aptly named Jackson Rippner while Rachel McAdams is his victim, Lisa Reisert. Part of the brilliance of Carl Ellsworth’s script is how the first few minutes play like a rom-com; two impossibly good-looking people meet cute at the airport and sparks immediately fly. Murphy understands that Rippner can’t telegraph evil — this is a man chosen for the assignment because he has deep resources of charm. They engage in a cat-and-mouse game throughout the flight that is so charged, don’t be surprised if there’s a part of you wondering if these two crazy kids can work it out.

From the beginning of his film career, Murphy refused to be pigeonholed, seeking out unique projects and interesting roles without much of a concern for box office results. The same year he made his supervillain debut in “Batman Begins,” he pivoted by playing Kitten, the transgender heroine searching for love and her birth mother in Neil Jordan’s adaptation of Pat McCabe’s novel. While the casting of a cis man in the role might raise issues today, Murphy’s portrayal is a loving homage to the tenacity and tenderness of the character. Kitten is charming and determined, and Murphy finds a joy in her life even when things take a dark turn. It’s also a chance for Murphy to reunite with some of his previous co-stars, including Gleeson, Stephen Rea and Liam Neeson – forming a powerhouse of Irish performers.

Murphy’s feature film debut is an adaptation of the Enda Walsh play in which he made his theatrical (and acting) debut. Murphy stars as “Pig” and Elaine Cassidy is “Runt,” a pair of teenagers who have been devoted to one another since birth. Pig is all raging id, completely unpredictable and prone to violent outbursts. But Murphy also shows his deep vulnerability and affection for his friend, particularly as their relationship begins to shift away from purely platonic. It’s a stunning debut, and Murphy’s raw talent and potential are on full display. So much so that the film caught the eye of an up-and-coming director named Danny Boyle, who would go on to cast Murphy in his breakout “28 Days Later” role.

Ken Loach is such a perfect fit for Murphy, it’s a shame the two haven’t collaborated on another film since this tale of two war-torn brothers during the Irish War of Independence. Murphy is Damien, a doctor who initially wants no part of the fighting, resigned to the idea that the war is unwinnable. But after witnessing several injustices, he impulsively joins the Irish Republican Army. Murphy portrays the transformation into a radicalized soldier who ultimately sacrifices everything for his cause without ever hitting a false note. It’s a heartbreaking, emotional journey that grounds the film, which went on to win the Palme d’Or at the 2006 Cannes Film Festival and is regarded by many as Loach’s best.

Murphy has always been drawn to the written word, no matter the medium. So after headlining films from the likes of Danny Boyle and Neil Jordan, he made a point to return to the stage and had no qualms about signing up for a television series penned by acclaimed writer Steven Knight (“Dirty Pretty Things,” “Eastern Promises”). The actor is a perfect fit in Knight’s universe of morally compromised men you can’t take your eyes off of. His Tommy Shelby is a war veteran turned leader of the Peaky Blinders criminal organization. His work is all pragmatism: He’s often stoic as he manipulates and calculates. But he’s also haunted — both by what he’s seen in the war and by his deep and abiding love for his late wife Grace. Of course, Murphy is so magnetic, fans of the show often have to be reminded that he is actually a villain. Put aside the mass murder and corruption — I’m still not over him shooting that horse.

After five collaborations with Nolan, the filmmaker finally let Murphy take the lead — and it was worth waiting for. Murphy portrays the rise and fall of J. Robert Oppenheimer, the theoretical physicist known as the creator of the atomic bomb. Murphy ricochets through time, portraying Oppenheimer in his young adulthood as a fragile student, his glory heading The Manhattan Project and his later years where he’s fighting the government that once heralded him. These three timelines are usually easy to distinguish from one another, but sometimes they flow together with no obvious way to differentiate –yet Murphy is always precisely where he needs to be. Though Oppenheimer is a mass of contradictions — he can be controlled yet irrational, naïve yet arrogant — he always makes sense through Murphy’s interpretation. He is particularly haunting playing Oppenheimer in his later years: Both physically and spiritually, you feel like you’re watching a man fading away before your eyes.

For this tour-de-force, Murphy went back to where it all began – not only the theater but specifically a play by Enda Walsh, whose “Disco Pigs” set Murphy on his journey as an actor. He plays Thomas Magill (never “Tom”) a loner and fanatic on a mission to cleanse his small Irish town of its sins. Murphy is the only actor on stage for the duration of the play, but this is not a staid affair — he literally bounces off the walls, hurls objects and races back and forth — all as he builds his story to a powerful crescendo. It’s exhausting just to watch, and yet you won’t be able to look away. It was produced by Landmark Productions and Galway International Arts Festival and was filmed at the National Theatre. There are plans to show it on NT at Home. Keep an eye out, as it’s not one to be missed.

When citing Murphy’s collaborations with Nolan, it would make sense to favor “Dunkirk,” in which he offers a harrowing depiction of PTSD as a traumatized solider; or “Oppenheimer,” in which he occupies nearly every frame as the star of the film. But for me, Murphy is the lynchpin in one of Nolan’s best, most ambitious and most emotional masterpieces, the byzantine thriller “Inception.” He plays Robert Michael Fischer, the heir to a business empire whose unresolved daddy issues make him the target of a team of “extractors.” Led by Leonardo DiCaprio’s Dom Cobb, the thieves use dream technology to infiltrate the subconscious of a target to access information. Fischer is a man of few words and Murphy is fantastic at quietly communicating his pain and making you care for a character that is, in many ways, intended to be a cipher. Murphy shows that “best” doesn’t need to mean “most” — both in terms of the size of the role and the acting, delivering a sublime supporting performance that the entire movie rests on. Nolan is often accused (wrongly) of being a cold filmmaker. But the moment where Fischer finds closure with his late father is perhaps the most affecting gut-punch he’s ever delivered, thanks largely to Murphy’s beautiful performance.

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