
- Share via
“Say Nothing” star Lola Petticrew wasn’t surprised when their speech accepting the Irish Film and Television Academy prize for drama actress in February — encompassing suicide rates, punishment of trans kids, paltry social housing and poor mental health services in their hometown of Belfast — was greeted with vitriolic online comments. “S—” was the “best” of it, demonstrating that decades after the horrific events the series depicts, emotions still run high across Ireland.
“As a young adult who still lives there,” Petticrew wonders, via Zoom, “how we get over all this stuff and deal with the intergenerational trauma.”
It’s a “war” of sorts that persists in Belfast — including in the realm of culture — decades after the 1998 Good Friday Agreement heralded the closest thing yet to a ceasefire between the U.K. and the Irish Republican Army. Widely acclaimed when it premiered in the U.S. last fall, the FX series, adapted from Patrick Radden Keefe’s award-winning book of the same name, has inspired an intense, complicated reaction in Ireland, where the subject matter hits close to the bone. “There’s admiration for it as a piece of searing, unflinching storytelling but also a level of unease,” explains Irish documentarian Pam Finn (“JFK: The Three Miles”). “Some feel it reopens wounds without adding new understanding, while others see it as an essential reckoning.”
In part, this tension may stem from the concern, as Finn puts it, that history “framed for international audiences” might “flatten the nuances of lived experience” — a concern that Petticrew, who plays IRA member Dolours Price, at first shared.
“You see [FX parent company] Disney and go, ‘Why is Disney doing a Troubles piece?’ You’re kind of afraid that it’s Americans coming in and trying to tie up the Troubles into a neat little bow and go, ‘We solved it!’ And that worried me,” the actor says. Ultimately, though, they were stunned by writing that “encapsulated the spirit so well” and believe American funding allowed “Say Nothing” to be “ballsier.”
“Some of what Dolours does is not just unlikable but horrific, and I think the show does a really beautiful thing” in allowing it to “dance in those gray areas and present these characters not as heroes or villains but the situation that they are in, the decisions that they make and the emotional aftermath,” they add. “And then the audience can make up their mind. It’s not trying to do anything but make people confront themselves and what they think and provoke those big questions of what it means to move on from a conflict and trauma like that.” (As Finn notes, “The focus on women in the series, particularly in a history largely shaped by male voices, adds an important dimension to understanding the complexity of the Troubles.”)
By contrast, Seán Murray, Belfast-based writer-director of 2018 documentary “Unquiet Graves,” which explores the U.K. government’s alleged collusion with local supporters of British rule in Northern Ireland in 120 murders during the 1970s, argues that “Say Nothing’s’’ perspective is one-sided. “We are 25 years after the Good Friday Agreement, but the war has never ended. Now we are in a mass information war and what ‘Say Nothing’ has done is amplify a minority republican [for a united Ireland] view of what happened during the conflict.”
Murray’s complaint is not with the quality of the production — “On a technical level, I thought it was very good,” he notes, praising the local actors in particular. Rather, he says, there are “huge responsibilities, particularly when you’re dealing with the traumatized,” that are at cross-purposes with the conventions of narrative TV.
Like many across Ireland, Murray regards the series’ repeated disclaimer — about now-retired Sinn Féin leader Gerry Adams denying he has ever been an IRA member, despite being depicted in the series as a leader of the organization — with an arched brow. “I think they were trying to troll him,” he says.

Glenn Patterson, a Belfast writer, novelist and filmmaker whose work is informed by the Troubles, agreed about the words’ dark humor: “Gerry Adams has always denied that he has been a member of the IRA. Nobody believes that, so to see that caption drew smiles.”
Patterson is a similar age to some of the children of Jean McConville, the Belfast widow and mother of 10 whose December 1972 abduction, disappearance and murder by the IRA, allegedly for being a “tout” (informer) — though the U.K. government has always denied this — is at the heart of “Say Nothing.” In 2014, Adams was arrested in connection with the murder of McConville, whose body was finally discovered in 2003, but he was never charged.
“I remember the horror of it from the very start,” Patterson says. “What that family suffered is truly, truly horrific and truly unconscionable. The lies that were told, the goading of the family, all of that is absolutely horrendous.”
The fiercest criticism, of the very decision to follow the book’s template and structure the action around what happened to McConville, has come from some of her children. “I have not watched it nor do I intend watching it,” Michael McConville said in a statement. His mother’s death, he continued, “is not entertainment for me and my family. The portrayal of the execution and secret burial of my mother is horrendous, and unless you have lived through it, you will never understand just how cruel it is.”
For all of the thorny political questions examined in “Say Nothing” — as well as by the supporters and detractors who’ve emerged since it premiered — the intelligent, perceptive Petticrew remains clear-eyed about the possibilities, and limitations, of their role.
“Our job as actors is to show up and film what’s in the script. I just went in understanding that there’s the Dolours in real life, the Dolours in Patrick’s book and the Dolours in our script, and I could only play the Dolours in our script. That felt like the appropriate headspace for me to be in.”
That groundedness has allowed Petticrew to keep their own accolades, including a nomination for a BAFTA TV Award, in perspective. With some help from a certain four-legged “North Star.”
“My dog Cúan gives me so much peace and serenity. Dogs slow your life down so much. I found out that I got the BAFTA nomination and had to pick up the gnarliest dog s— ever. There’s nothing that’s going to humble you like your dog that doesn’t know and doesn’t care what the f— a BAFTA is.”
More to Read
Sign up for The Envelope
Get exclusive awards season news, in-depth interviews and columnist Glenn Whipp’s must-read analysis straight to your inbox.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.