How Brendan Corcoran found the tools for truthful acting


Cast and crew members of JB Keane’s play Moll

P.M O’Sullivan

John McGahern, one of Ireland’s best writers, lived by a clear eye.

He never joined in reflexive denunciations of Irish religious life. He refused easy dismissals, even after his work and his life suffered profoundly in the aftermath of The Dark (1965), his second novel, being banned ― a sorry event in which Catholic authorities were prominent. McGahern spent time during his childhood as an altar boy and attributed his artistic vocation to a discovery of ritual’s force.

He wrote in 1993: “I have nothing but gratitude for the spiritual remnants of that upbringing, the sense of our origins beyond the bounds of sense, an awareness of mystery and wonderment, grace and sacrament, and the absolute equality of all women and men underneath the sun of heaven.” John McGahern believed in gratefulness, whatever the emotion’s source.

Everyman
Kilkenny City, 1964. Brendan Corcoran is ten years of age, a native of St Francis Terrace, an altar boy in The Friary. The world starts opening up. As he recalls: “The first drama I ever did was Everyman, the medieval play. Mike Kelly, part of the New Theatre Group, was asked to do a drama of some kind with the altar boys. We were all ten or 11 at the time.

Recollection stays firm: “So Mike came in and we did some Christmas concerts. Then he formed a youth theatre, which lasted for eight or nine years. We did a lot of stuff. That’s where I got the interest, basically.

“That went on until we reached Leaving Cert, 1971 or 1972. Then everyone scattered, going off different places for jobs and college. But I never had to leave Kilkenny. I started work in the Brewery when I was 18.”

Corcoran had talent. This talent found notice. Like John McGahern, he values gratitude: “Mike was kind of nurturing me. And I said to myself: ‘Okay, I’m still in Kilkenny.’ Mike said: “You’d be more than welcome in the adult group, because there’s no youngsters in it. There’s always sons in plays, and brothers.” So…”
The world continued opening up. One youth recognized a métier: “I joined the adult group in ’72 ― because I was anxious to learn more and find out more, because it was all fun. The bug…Just got me. And Mike kind of pushed me.

To conquer
“My first production was She Stoops To Conquer. I played George Hastings. After that I was regularly cast throughout the Seventies, Eighties, Nineties.”
Luck likewise got recognized: “There was some great talent in that group at that time. And I started to learn from watching the others. You had the late Dónal O’Brien. You had the late Ann Hurley. I was learning from the director, who was Paul Glennon. I was just out of school. And Paul was the main teacher [in Kilkenny CBS]. And I was still calling him ‘Sir’…

“So I started getting cast. There was always a young fella or a love interest needed. And then, as the years go on, you move on into various categories. I learned an awful lot, year by year.”

While Brendan Corcoran enjoyed living in his native place, he never inhabited a narrow space. He looked around and his horizon broadened. He embraced this stretch: “I discovered that the Amateur Drama League of Ireland ran summer schools in Gormanston College. So I went to Gormanston in 1973 to do a course. And the tutors on these courses were wonderful.

“And I started to realize: ‘Hang on, there’s a bit more to this. There’s a craft involved here. You need to learn more.’ And I was like a sponge.”

Stretching himself worked a new dynamic. Keenness italicized his potential for experienced observers: “I did the first course, ‘Basic Acting’, with Betty Ann Norton. And loved it. At the end of the course, I was told that I had won a scholarship ― for showing commitment and eagerness, I suppose.

“And I went back the following year, on that free scholarship. I took a week off work. If memory serves, I did eight courses altogether, over the years. I learned everything, how to build characters, how to play comedy as distinct from how to play serious drama. I picked up what I always call my bag of tools. You need different tools for different roles.”

Tools
The seasoned man smiles in memory of that callow but wise individual: “I felt I was getting better. I felt I understood it more. And I was able to use the craft of what I gleaned. I brought that with me all through the years, that bag of tools.

“I got hooked. I was hooked by the late Seventies, early Eighties. Hooked completely… Acting was no longer just my hobby.”

Brendan Corcoran kept going, kept progressing ― kept learning. He ended up not just one of Kilkenny’s most accomplished actors but also someone with a national reputation. Blessed with natural aptitude honed in high degree, Corcoran became a central figure in a gifted generation who happened to be living in one small place in the island’s south eastern corner.

Certain elements gelled. Ineffable elements, like atmosphere and curiosity and spirit. All part of the parcel bundled up and hoisted to shoulder for passage down this road. A vagabond camaraderie led the way.

Working together, this group enriched so many people’s evenings. Working together, these people achieved mighty miracles in their chosen pursuit. Brendan Corcoran remains proud to be of their number.
“I saw professional versions of plays we had done,” he recounts. “I’d look at them and I’d feel: ‘My god… We were better than that. Everything about our production was better.’ I was sure on this front.”

Does he now count as elder statesman? There are more than 60 years between an hour in the Club House Hotel, sunlight trembling and shifting on the walls as we talk, and that schoolboy actor in Everyman. He laughs good naturedly at the thought ― and I know why, because Brendan Corcoran remains remarkably fresh in demeanour and outlook. “I don’t feel I am finished with learning things,” he emphasizes.

There are sere notes too, inevitably, after so many years and so many roles, so many journeys under arc lights into Kilkenny nights. Dónal O’Brien is gone since 2019; Ann Hurley, since 2023. His friend and colleague Mary Cradock passed away in April.

“Dear Mary…” he says. “Such a lovely woman and such a fine actor. I collected her and brought her down to the group, for our staging of Billy Liar. 1976…”

A Gem
The camaraderie runs back, pulls forward. Corcoran will play Éamon in Lake Productions’ upcoming revival of Malachy McKenna’s The Quiet Land (2015). This short run takes place in Thomastown’s Concert Hall on August 13 and 14.

“Myself and Ger [Cody] know the play fierce well at this stage,” he notes. “The Quiet Land was an absolute gem to play in The Home Rule [Club], back in 2022 and 2025. The intimacy… Upstairs there, the audience are right in front of you.

“It’ll probably be different in Thomastown. The intimacy might not be the same. But the play will certainly work as well as ever, I believe. We won’t play it any differently. We’ll give it the same.”

Brendan Corcoran is not merely a tremendous exponent of his art. He stands equally impressive as its explicator. Resonance holds close: “I came across a quotation a while back: “Acting is behaving truthfully under imaginary circumstances.” And that’s all you need to know. The key word is ‘truthfully’.

“There’s a kind of simplistic acting you can do. Surface acting, I call it. You’re not convincing an audience. I always say: ‘The terms of your job is to convince an audience. That’s your job.’ And you can’t cheat it.”

This eloquence strikes me as strongly as any part Corcoran adorned over the decades. “The first person you have to convince is yourself,” he insists. “An actor might have four angry lines. And they’ll give you four angry lines. And then their face will just go back to where it was. Your whole body has to act.

“Sometimes you don’t have to do an awful lot in any obvious sense. But you can never switch off. It’s what I was saying earlier. If you do everything truthfully, you’ll never switch off. If you only act anger and fear, the audience will see through it ― and tune out.

His closing credo deserves widest circulation: “Acting” ―― can get in the way of truthful acting.”

Brendan Corcoran performs in The Quiet Land, at the Thomastown Concert Hall as part of the AKA festival on August 13 and 14

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