A playwright, a theatre boss and a plate of lamb curry

AMID the outpouring of grief and handsome tributes paid to the late playwright Tom Murphy, the silence of a certain prominent luvvie was deafening. Michael Colgan, the formidable impresario who ran The Gate Theatre like his personal fiefdom, did not lavish praise on the Great Man of Letters – as is his wont whenever the arts world loses a leading light. But his reticence may be less to do with the #MeToo movement turning its attention to the climate of bullying at The Gate than some bad blood between the two thespians going back decades. The story, reported at the time, goes that at writer Colm Tóibín’s 50th birthday party, Murphy remarked how The Gate had never staged one of his plays. ‘You’re only a provincial playwright,’ Colgan reportedly said about the world-renowned writer. ‘And you’re only the keeper of a museum on Parnell Square,’ retorted Murphy, upending a plate of lamb curry on Colgan’s head. According to observers, the pair settled down after the mess was cleared and behaved impeccably for the rest of the night. It just goes to show, unlike his reputation, Colgan can exhibit self control in exalted company and when it’s in his interest. Had one of his minnows at The Gate dared to throw even a bread roll at him, they’d have likely seen the full force of his volcanic temper.