The spectacular rise of Cillian Murphy’s son Aran, his fortunate (and bizarrely similar) two new roles… and why I’m not convinced it’s all down to him inheriting his father’s genius

Published: 20:00 EDT, 19 October 2026 | Updated: 20:00 EDT, 19 October 2026

An ancient showbiz gag has an eager young man, lost on arrival in New York, stopping an older passer-by to ask: ‘Hey, do you know the way to Carnegie Hall?’

‘Hard work and practice, kid!’ comes the reply.

But the joke is only partly true. There’s always been a shortcut to stardom, and these days it is taken by almost a third of actors.

The trick is to get yourself born to famous parents. More than ever, the newcomers snapping up prime roles are ‘nepo-babies’, the children of existing stars, able to trade on their parents’ names and connections.

At the front of the current pack is Aran Murphy, 19-year-old son of Oscar-winning Oppenheimer and Peaky Blinders megastar Cillian Murphy. Not only has he scooped two major TV roles and a coveted film part this year, but his inherited celebrity has arguably made him almost more newsworthy than his older co-stars.

He plays Gabriel, the truculent son of a Hollywood actress and her billionaire husband (Sienna Miller and Dominic West) in the divorce drama War, on Sky Atlantic.

Aran Murphy has been cast as Rick in Klara And The Sun, an adaptation of Nobel prize-winner Kazuo Ishiguro’s fantasy, which will be released in cinemas this Friday

He plays Gabriel in Sky Atlantic’s divorce drama War, the truculent son of a Hollywood actress and her billionaire husband (played by Sienna Miller and Dominic West)

He has also been cast as Rick, by director Taika Waititi in his adaptation of Nobel prize-winner Kazuo Ishiguro’s fantasy Klara And The Sun, which is released in cinemas this Friday.

His biggest and best role, though, is in the comedy-drama Youth, starring and written by Sharon Horgan, on HBO Max. Aran plays university drop-out Ruari, divorcee Horgan’s truculent son – sound familiar? – with limitless privileges but behavioural issues.

Indeed, Ruari’s conduct is so foully obnoxious that one colleague told me he felt like throwing up after the first episode. Every minute that he’s on screen will make you squirm.

At his school graduation ceremony, while other pupils line up politely to accept their awards, Ruari seizes the microphone and launches into an inane protest rap about ‘pigs’ and ‘sheep’, before baring his backside at the assembled parents.

However, instead of disciplining him – because clearly this boy has never had a telling-off in his life – his family take him for a celebratory lunch. Ruari sulks, sneers, and then grabs a plate of soft burrata cheese, attempting to cram it into his mouth with both bare hands. (‘That was meant for the whole table,’ his dad’s girlfriend admonishes him weakly.)

It’s a gift of a role, the kind of casting that could launch a career. But any other young actor, whether a drama school veteran or a college novice, will be entitled to watch Youth and think, ‘I wouldn’t have had an ice-cream’s chance in hell of landing that part.’

Aran is the 19-year-old son of Oscar-winning Cillian Murphy, who has starred in Oppenheimer, Peaky Blinders and Dunkirk

Aran’s biggest role yet is university drop-out Ruari in the comedy-drama Youth on HBO Max

Aran Murphy didn’t just have a head start. He was out of the blocks, around the track and over the line before the starting gun was fired.

How else is it possible that he banked two such key (and similar roles) in two major TV productions, while already in line for a movie premiere?

That’s not mere luck. The dice are loaded.

All this is not to suggest he’s an unworthy actor. These parts demand talent, and I’m sure he has it. Horgan is not one to suffer fools either – Youth is a deeply personal piece of work for her, and she would never allow it to be spoiled by substandard acting, no matter whose children were involved. But it’s unreasonable to ask us to believe that Aran’s real-life parentage didn’t have some influence.

Cillian Murphy is one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. Since his breakthrough in 2002 in the horror thriller 28 Days Later, he has starred in blockbusters from Batman Begins to Dunkirk, as well as achieving icon status as 1920s gangster Tommy Shelby.

What writer, producer or director wouldn’t want to be associated with Cillian Murphy? Given the option of casting an unknown teenager, or giving the role to the son of a powerbroker, the choice is too often inevitable.

Some actors from obscure backgrounds do break through, of course, such as Warrington-born Owen Cooper – the young star of the Netflix hit and multi- award-winning Adolescence, whose parents Andy and Noreen work in IT and social care.

But the publicity value of a family name is priceless. In the past few weeks, Aran has been interviewed by Variety magazine, GQ and a host of other industry voices. He comes across as modest, patient, amusing, even self-deprecating – well-versed in media skills, in fact, just as you might expect of someone whose father has been in the business for decades.

Social media has debated endlessly how closely Aran resembles his dad. Some claim he looks like an AI version of a teenage Cillian. For what it’s worth, I think the boy lacks his father’s unearthly beauty, with a rounder face and cheekbones that are merely human, not alien.

Obsessive fans online also argue that Aran’s success is pre-ordained because he has inherited Cillian’s thespian genius.

That seems patent nonsense. If artistic brilliance could be passed down from father to son, Julian Lennon would be a chart-topping songwriter and Brooklyn Beckham would be a midfield wizard. What Aran does have is infinite opportunities to make the most of his own talents.

A combination of unique childhood experiences, priceless advice, the chance to benefit from tutoring from his father and the willing assistance of practically anyone he meets in the industry, assure his success.

When one day he sits down to write his autobiography, it will not be called Against All Odds.

According to statistician Stephen Follows, the same is true for well over a quarter of young actors. In a report for the Locarno Film Festival last August, he revealed that 28 per cent of actors already had a family member in the film or TV business when they started.

Most shockingly of all, in a survey of 2,700 Hollywood films, Follows discovered that 70 per cent of the top 100 movies featured at least one ‘nepo’ performer (the word, coined in 2020, is a contraction of ‘nepotism’). More than 10 per cent featured three nepos.

Since the days of silent cinema, when the Barrymore dynasty and the Gish sisters ruled the screen, family has always counted for a lot. Some beneficiaries today are obvious – Iris Law is the daughter of actors Jude Law and ex-wife Sadie Frost, Lily Collins is the daughter of singer Phil Collins. Another Lily (Sheen) has Kate Beckinsale and Michael Sheen for parents.

Max Irons also has famous actor parents: Sinead Cusack and Jeremy Irons. So have Silent Witness star Emilia Fox and her brother Freddie, the children of Edward Fox and Joanna David.

Others are equally blessed, though you might not guess it at first. Daniel Radcliffe, who found fame at 11 as Harry Potter, is the son of casting agent Marcia Gresham. Eve Hewson, who co-starred with Horgan in Bad Sisters, is the daughter of U2’s Bono. And film-maker Duncan Jones’s dad was David Bowie.

Yet you’ll never hear a peep of protest about this from Left-wingers who decry every other form of inequality. Well-heeled liberal luvvies won’t hear a word against the opportunities afforded these privileged young stars.

You can’t blame Aran Murphy and the other nepo babies who make up 28 per cent of the casting pool, of course. No one can help who their parents are.

But how many great young actors will never become stars, because they were doomed to obscurity from birth, we can’t ever know.