Inside the Brutal Mud Fight of Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man – The Untold Secrets Behind Its Epic Realism Revealed!
Ever get the feeling you’ve seen it all when it comes to fight scenes in movies? From jaw-dropping hand-to-hand combat atop speeding trains in Mission Impossible to the relentless street brawls of The Raid, the genre feels like it’s been milked dry. But hold up—Netflix’s latest Peaky Blinders flick, The Immortal Man, throws down a fight that flips the script in the muddiest, most unexpected way possible. Picture this: Tommy Shelby and his estranged son slugging it out in a muddy, pig-infested, roofless room—no guns, no blades, just pure, gritty hand-to-hand warfare smeared in inches of ankle-deep muck. It’s messy, it’s raw, and honestly, a bit unsettling. How did they pull this off without turning it into a total pigsty? And just what kind of mud do you need to survive a brawl like this? Buckle up—we’re diving deep into the making of one of the most unique fight scenes you’ll ever see. LEARN MORE
IF YOU’VE WATCHED enough action movies, you probably think you’ve seen just about everything when it comes to fight scenes, from Mission Impossible’s hand-to-hand combat on top of a teetering train to basically the whole plot of The Raid. With thousands upon thousands of hours of action put to film, one might think that just about everything combat-related has been covered by now. And yet, in Netflix’s new Peaky Blinders movie, The Immortal Man, there’s a fight that still manages to surprise and delight.
This brawl, set adjacent to a rather robust set of pigs in a large, roofless room filled with mud, finds Cillian Murphy’s Tommy Shelby taking on his long-estranged son Duke, played by Barry Keoghan. Despite the pair’s reputations as ruthless gangsters, there are no guns or knives, no razor blades tucked inside the brims of their newsboy caps. Instead, what viewers see is pure hand-to-hand combat, an act made all the more complicated by the inches of ankle-deep mud in which it takes place. The result is a splattered, slippery mess that’s visceral and slightly off-putting, especially considering Keoghan ends the whole affair covered in so much thick brown mud that all viewers can really make out is the whites of his eyes.
But how did the whole dirty affair come together? Where did all that mud come from, and how did the movie’s crew keep Keoghan and Murphy clear of those pigs—and, presumably, a fair amount of pig shit—during their brawl? Men’s Health talked to the film’s production designer, Jacqueline Abrahams, to find out.
MEN’S HEALTH: How was that big mud fight written into the script?
JACQUELINE ABRAHAMS: It actually wasn’t in the original script. It came from us responding to the locations.
We had found a location that was quite unusual and quite expressionistic—an old jam factory called the Harley’s Jam Factory. It was massive and derelict, but absolutely beautiful. Knowing about those kinds of spaces is not scriptable. You can’t write those things in without having journeyed and discovered. That space was just so gorgeous; The light and the shadows were so extraordinary.
I remember thinking, “What would happen if someone was amoral?” I mean, they would basically steal and take anything they could. And during [WWII] that would be a really awful thing. So [Duke’s] without any morality because he’s a fatherless child. I quite liked the idea that somehow he’s gotten these pigs, and that’s how those pigs became a thing. And then that led to riffing off what could happen between father and son if this is where the conflict happened.
We actually also had a cock fight that was cut from the movie, too, just to further the idea that [Duke] was wild, had his fingers in loads of pies, and was corrupt. He just made money off anything at all. Misery doesn’t matter. It could be morphine, it could be pigs, it could be cock fighting. Doesn’t matter.
MH: The space really is beautiful, with those iron arches and no ceiling above. But where did all that mud come from?
JA: We brought the mud in. It had to be a specific mud. We had to think about the cast and we had to think about the pigs. Their handler was consulted. It had to be kind of safe, without any funny bits in it. So, a world of people working on this became specialists in what was essentially the management of mud.
And then on top of that, of course, we had to think, “How do you fight in mud?” That became a conversation with a home economist whose job was to work out how to create credible, safe mud that dealt with people’s allergies and all sorts of other things. She was absolutely brilliant, and did a whole bunch of tests of that mud alongside the other mud. As the fight grew, the surface area grew. So what had started with quite a small area really expanded.
MH: How do you make the mud? Is it just “you get the cleanest possible dirt and the cleanest possible water,” or is something else involved?
JA: The mud Duke’s face went into was made out of food products. I think she used an instant oat cereal that we have here in the UK called Ready Brek. That was kind of the wadding or substance of it, but she added all sorts of different chocolate powders and experimented with creating safe mud that if it got in your mouth, you could actually eat it if you had to.
MH: Or if it came near your eyes.
JA: Exactly. It was food stuff that wouldn’t aggravate.
MH: Did you fill the whole space with that mud? Because that’s a lot of breakfast cereal.
JA: No, that was only in the area where Barry’s face is squished into it. That’s the edible mud, and the rest was just regular mud. So, it was a difficult space to work in. It also rained and there was no roof, so part of it was putting planks across and then making the planks safe so that when [the cast] walked across the planks, they weren’t going to skid. There was a whole world of health and safety.
MH: I have to imagine the pigs being in there was kind of a wild card, too. Did the handlers have to sprinkle food in spots to keep them out of the line of the fight?
JA: Exactly. We also had to figure out how to control the fact that they are going to poop everywhere. The pigs’ handlers were amazing. The deal was that you only had the pigs in when you needed them, and the standby team was amazing in terms of shit. They’d kind of monitor where they were doing their thing and then they’d clean it right up.
It was quite a number of pigs, too, but it was really interesting that an idea had started as something that felt really right, but had become very complex, and then managed to pull itself off. It was absolutely worth doing.
MH: How did the fight logistics work? You can choreograph a fight all you want, but you’re still dealing with very slippery mud and you still need to avoid injuries.
JA: They had an amazing fight coordinator who was absolutely brilliant. She basically coordinated the whole fight. So, “How do we create a place where Duke gets pushed over?” Then we’d put in a plank of wood that’s part of the stairwell, and we’d do a whole bunch of stuff that wasn’t mud that he could fall into that was safe.
They used stuntmen, too, intercut with the real actors. It’s very clever stuff.
MH: You can’t tell there are stunt performers. It really does look like the actors are doing it.
JA: It’s quite a dance. It really is. It’s how you cut it together and it’s having people that are the same physical type. It’s also talking about what the actor is willing to do—the breadth of risk or physicality they’re prepared to go through.
Cillian is up for lots of things, actually. You know the tunnel scenes in the movie, where he’s climbing through these tiny, claustrophobic tunnels? He did all that.
There’s also a bit where we created a false piece of rubble where his eye is just within the rubble looking out, and that’s him. That’s not a pleasant thing to have dressed over you, so hats off to him for tolerating it.
MH: It does help, in some sense, that he gets the better end of the fight. He’s not the one who ends up covered in mud head to toe at the end. That had to be uncomfortable for Barry Keoghan.
JA: I wasn’t on set when they did it, but it’s pretty well planned. And I think the communication and the feeling of the stuff and the team around the actors give them all confidence.
They’re also obviously quite amazing in terms of what they can tolerate. They see the end result is worth the journey.
I would imagine it wasn’t the most pleasant experience for Barry, regardless of the quality of the mud. Even if it’s not real, having your face shoved into some weird stuff can’t be a very nice experience. Plus, then you have to act and notbe repulsed by it. I really respect him for such things.
MH: What else do you remember about all that mud?
JA: I remember the pigs being delivered. They had to be there a certain amount of days before we shot, to acclimatize. There’s a whole process, so you’re working backwards from filming to do that. I filmed them coming off the truck and I remember thinking, “This is going to be insane.” There were just loads of them. It was like, “ Oh, my God, this is now real. It’s not just an idea. It really is happening.” It was quite magical.
MH: Is working with pigs like working with kids, in terms of how much they can be on set, how long you can shoot, and everything else?
JA: Yes, it’s super welfare-based, and that’s why they had to get acclimatized some days before. All the dressing had to happen well in advance so they could get completely comfortable in the environment and in the mud. It was really well managed, but it meant a lot of planning.
MH: Do you know how big the physical space you used was? It seems huge.
JA: It wasn’t. It was probably 10 meters by 20 meters. It was a good outbuilding, but not enormous. Still, I remember when we calculated the amount of mud we needed, it was like, “Wow, that’s going to be a lot of trucks.” It was extraordinary, actually, how much you need to cover the ground.
MH: Who do you even call to get mud?
JA: We were up north, filming near Leeds, so we had brilliant people come who do aggregate and a number of really weird other things for films. Like, they’ll come and do rubble or they’ll do street covering. So, they came and did our mud.
What’s great about using someone [to make the mud] that’s used to working with films is that they will understand the mix you need and you that don’t need the whole thing to be real. Maybe you could use something underneath and then layer the mud on top. They’ve got all these shortcuts.
We did use real aggregate companies too, though. When we did the bomb damage [at the BSA Factory] this guy came who was just a regular guy from an aggregate works. He came with a massive truck and delivered all the stuff we’d ordered and I said, “We don’t have enough.” And he said, “But it’s 4:00 on a Friday,” but then went to get more. He was amazing. He drove back and got his mate and said, “We need two more trucks. Come with me. Let’s fill up,” and they made it happen completely.
MH: Was there anything under the mud?
JA: No, it was just a concrete floor. And they’d had to clean it extensively, too, because that area had been derelict. There was some rough stuff that had happened in there, like a bit of drug taking. Over the road from where we were, they’d discovered some kind of meth factory, too. They had to clean it extensively so there was nothing below the mud that might be a problem for both pigs and humans.
MH: And then what happens to the mud when you’re all done? Do you have to scrape it all out and take it with you?
JA: Of course, and that’s why it’s really amazing to work with people who go, “Okay, we’ll take it away again.” It’s always easy to load stuff in, but clearing it all away is less motivating.
I just love that finding a location can lead you to discover something which, if you’re open enough to seeing it, can lead you to find really interesting ways to do things.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Watch Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man Here
Marah Eakin is a Los Angeles–based freelance reporter who’s been writing about pop culture and lifestyle since 2010. She spent 12 years at The A.V. Club and has contributed to Wired, Vulture, Dwell, The Strategist, Thrillist, The Ringer, Fodor’s, IndieWire, and a number of other publications.




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