Thank you, Barry Keoghan, for giving the people what they want. No, not your many stunning film performances, although we do appreciate those. Not your untouchable red carpet style this awards season. Not the way you self-refer as a “freak child-man” or “weird-looking guy”. Thank you for taking a picture of your dinner at the Golden Globes and posting it on Instagram.
The Golden Globes seems the most fun of all the awards shows. The stars sit at circular tables and drink and eat together, but we never usually get to really see what’s going on behind the scenes.
At last weekend’s event Keoghan, the talk of both Tinseltown and Bettystown because of his role in Saltburn, made quite the splash with his super-stylish maroon Louis Vuitton ensemble complete with jewels and pearl keychain. He went a step further for the folks at home, though. He took a grainy photo of his steak, his spuds and his Caesar salad and posted it on Instagram alongside photos of him with Ryan Gosling and Will Ferrell. Now that’s a man of the people.
I first met Barry Keoghan 10 years ago. It was a showery May day and he was ambling around his home patch of Summerhill in Dublin. He had his name embroidered on the back of his runners and he cheekily asked my friend for her number. I strongly suspect she now regrets saying no. Summerhill sits in the shadow of Croke Park, which that day was playing host to One Direction, and the streets were thronged.
My work pals and I gathered on the footpath at The Bridge pub, passing drinks out through the crowd and singing along to Niall Horan and co on the speakers. We were all popular culture writers and near-demented with excitement, despite buying the One Direction tickets somewhat ironically.
Love/Hate was high on the pop-culture meter at the time, too, and we instantly recognised Barry as The Cat Killer. His film credits could still be counted on one hand but his turn as Wayne in Love/Hate meant that as soon as he threw the glad eye on my pal he was dragged in for a photo. He cheeringly obliged, showed us his new runners, and skipped off.
Keoghan’s star turn in Emerald Fennell’s Saltburn was the talk of the festive season. If social media is to be believed, more than a few gatherings were very mistaken in thinking it might be a comic romp for all the family to enjoy. Instead, it was like Normal People 2.0, but instead of Paul Mescal and Daisy Edgar-Jones riding rings around themselves – which amounted to porn in the eyes of some Liveline listeners – they got Keoghan doing unspeakable things in baths and graveyards, and showing off his crown jewels in a memorable finale. The Big Big Movie it is NOT. Saltburn is like The Talented Mr Ripley, Cruel Intentions and Parasite rolled up in mid-2000s nostalgia – yes 2006 is now long enough ago that the film could be considered a period piece. No pun intended, if you’ve seen the film.
Barry Keoghan carries himself like a man who’ll say no to nothing, and that’s exciting in Hollywood. He already has a wildly varied filmography and, speaking to GQ recently, said Saltburn had helped people stop looking at him as a “freak man-child”. The magazine cemented him as a bona fide star by claiming him as British in a social media post, which is a rite of passage for any Irish actor.
He’s also said that having a somewhat unpronounceable Irish name can do wonders for a career. Speaking at Dublin Comic Con in 2022 he said it hadn’t done Saoirse Ronan any harm, while also confirming that “You pronounce the G. Or at least I do.” So, it’s Keo-gan, not Keown.
The second time I met Barry Keoghan he was on the cusp of greatness. We were both filming for an RTÉ special and seated together for a short time. He’d been in Killing of a Sacred Deer, Dunkirk and American Animals and was deliciously generous with his chat about working on big sets and genuinely thrilled to be in the same room as Keith Barry.
I reminded him about the One Direction day and apologised for referring to him almost exclusively as “Cat Killer”. He was very gracious about it. I asked him if he still had the runners and he thought he probably did. These days he doesn’t need “Barry” on his heels for anyone to recognise him though.