This weekend's season at the IFC celebrates 30 years of Arts Council involvement in film-making, a process which began as a mere afterthought to the Arts Act, writes Donald Clarke
Thirty years ago, Irish film officially became an art form. Before the 1973 Arts Act passed into law, the State's cultural bodies took the same view of cinema as Queen Victoria famously took of lesbianism: no legislation was required because this disturbing entity didn't exist.
"Mary Robinson asked a question in the Senate," explains Ted Sheehy, Irish correspondent for the trade paper, Screen International. "She pointed out that film had not been considered as an art form in the previous Act, and would it not be a good idea if it was. And a month before the bill was enacted, film was added in. That is still the governing legislation for the Arts Council today."
To celebrate the anniversary, Sheehy is curating a season of films, entitled 30 Years On: The Arts Council and the Film Maker, which starts today at Dublin's Irish Film Centre. Featuring movies by the likes of Bob Quinn, Joe Comerford, Damien O'Donnell and Alan Gilsenan, the packed programme is as close as we will ever get to a comprehensive compendium of all the work sponsored by the Arts Council, and, as such, serves as an illuminated history of Irish film over the past three decades.
The Council's first film officer was David Collins, now one of our most respected producers. He recalls the early days with wry affection.
"I was appointed as Literature Officer," he explains. "It just happened that film had been mentioned in the Arts Act, and we were all scratching our heads and asking who'll do film. So I said I'd do it. It was as simple as that."
In between handing out money to a young writer named Neil Jordan and helping set up publishers such as Wolfhound and Poolbeg, Collins set about developing the Arts Council's interests in cinema exhibition and resource organisation, then, as now, the body's main concerns in this field.
"We ran this thing called the European Film Festival," he laughs. "We selected about 15 films. So I dispatched myself over to London to collect these films. And I brought one suitcase with me so that I'd be properly prepared, not realising that these would be 35mm prints. I had to hire half the carriage on a train to get them back."
Moving tentatively into production finance in 1975, the Council made its first awards to Cathal Black's John McGahern adaptation, Wheels, to Bob Quinn's documentary, Cloch, and to Joe Comerford for his script of High Boot Benny, a film that was not released for a further 18 years. All these movies are being screened as part of the season.
"We said let's try and do something on the film side," Collins says. "Let's try and give film-makers a bit of money so that they can make films - one a year if we possibly can."
He remembers the time as one in which creativity emerged from the freedom to improvise. "If you had an idea, you could just come in and talk to us," Collins says. "That was what was important, not what our ideas were about what ideas you should have. Mind you, that is easier to do when you have a blank page, because you are making the rules up as you go along . . . There were very few of these things called arts administrators around then."
The amounts the Arts Council has had at its disposal for production have been modest. In the early days Collins was making do with a total budget of £3,000, no great sum even then. Nonetheless, over the last 30 years, 230 projects have been financed and grants totalling €2 million have been paid out. However, the arrival of the Irish Film Board in 1981 (before it disappeared again between 1987 and 1993), with its much greater resources in this area, has somewhat overshadowed the Council's role in the development of new cinema. "There was an initial overlap with the Film Board," Sheehy explains. "Films like The Outcasts and Anne Devlin, both of which we're showing, were jointly funded by both organisations. But it became clear that the Film Board had far more resources and could attract investment from overseas broadcasters in the production of features. For that reason there was a change in approach within the Council and money went into creative documentaries, experimental work and short films, both narrative and non- narrative.
"There was also a particular strand which is to do with documenting the arts, starting with Cloch, a film about sculpture, and continuing right up to Alan Gilsenan's recent documentary about the playwright Tom Murphy, Sing on Forever."
Sheehy says the Arts Council makes it its business to engage with individuals rather than with production companies; it is there to support the artists themselves. This relationship is suited to the development of the more experimental work in the programme - pieces by Jaki Irvine, Clare Langan and Grace Weir among others - much of which was first seen in galleries rather than cinemas. One wonders how the Council decides if this sort of material should be funded as film or as visual art. "To be honest, that decision is made by the film-maker," Siobhán Bourke, the Council's current film adviser, says. "They just tick a box as to whether they are working in film or visual art when they apply."
Sheehy's work has permanent value beyond this weekend. Mark Mulqueen, director of the Film Institute of Ireland, which sponsored the season, explains: "When we initiated the idea a year ago we were concerned that the Arts Council's legacy was not protected by the Irish Film Archive. One of the benefits and results of the project is intended to be that this body of work would be secured in the archive."
So you may see these films again, but never in such busy company.
30 Years On: The Arts Council and the Film Maker is at the IFC, Dublin from today until Tuesday. Except for feature screenings, events are free. IFC booking on 01-6793477, www.fii.ie or www.artscouncil.ie