Thus ends a scarcely believable awards season for Irish cinema. Six months after winning the People’s Choice Award at Toronto, Lenny Abrahamson’s Room swept the board at the Irish Film and Television Academy (Ifta) Awards for “film and drama” on Saturday night. The adaptation of Emma Donoghue’s novel took a mighty seven statuettes, including that for best film. Well over a year after premiering to huge acclaim at the Sundance Film Festival, John Crowley’s Brooklyn took both the female film acting awards: Jane Brennan won for best supporting actress; Saoirse Ronan triumphed for best lead actress. In the interim, Brooklyn and Room were, of course, both nominated for best picture at the Oscars.
“The length of the awards season is jaw dropping,” John Crowley told The Irish Times. “It’s like a black hole. It will take as much time as you are prepared to give it. After a while I had to make time to go back and see my family.”
The big winner in the TV sections was the Irish Language western An Klondike, which - eclipsing the glossier, if indifferently received, Rebellion - managed four Iftas. Premiered to much fanfare, Rebellion could only take a single award: Ruth Bradley triumphed for best lead actress.
The Iftas have had a chequered history over recent years. In 2014, after overrunning and suffering serious sound difficulties, the ceremony attracted sufficient bad press to threaten the awards’ future. A great deal of trimming took place last year and the event - no longer broadcast live - feels markedly more efficient. The Iftas, now taking place in The Mansion House, haven’t quite managed to get themselves down to the 15-minute jog the Oscars managed at their first edition in 1929, but they’re heading in the correct direction.
Two moments stood out. Hitting very much the right tone, President Michael D Higgins delivered an amusing encomium to Liam Neeson, who was receiving the Ifta Outstanding Contribution to Cinema Award. He mentioned many of the actor’s great performances. He noted now he had brought together the people of Ballymena. But the highlight was surely his brief intonation of Neeson’s famous speech from Taken. Yes, the President really did use the words “very particular set of skills”.
Neeson told a first class anecdote concerning early advice from Clint Eastwood - “Hit your marks. Say a few lines. What’s the problem?” - and called on the incoming government to increase the Film Board’s budget.
The other priceless moment involved Emma Donoghue. Accepting the award for best screenplay, the Irish author brought her son and daughter on stage. She noted that, in the seven years since Room was published, she had been forced to leave her kids and “travel the world talking to strangers about the joys of motherhood”. A stone would have blubbed.
In most ways, the Ifta ceremony was very unlike the Academy Awards. Actresses turned blue then purple as rain clouds passed over the red carpet and allowed an Arctic chill to spread across Dawson Street. There was an earthiness to some of the conversation that you rarely get on Hollywood Boulevard. “I know. I look fucking amazing!” Panti Bliss told us (no lie there). Bob Geldof told The Irish Times that he might consider moving home.
“Now, I would,” he said. “Over the last 10 years the country has become something very different. The bollocks that used to go on I just couldn’t stand.”
In other ways, Ifta has come closer to the Oscar model. Deirdre O’Kane, this year’s host, opened with a monologue very much in the style of her American counterparts. A few brief sketches referenced the nominated films. The one-liners were pretty tart. Discussing this Annus mirabilis for Irish film, she noted: “We punched above our weight this year, unlike Conor McGregor.” Interestingly, significant portions of the monologue steered away from humour. O’Kane’s indisputable assertion that the current triumphs have their origins in the reconstitution of The Irish Film Board in 1993 - when President Higgins was Minister for Arts - invited fair tribute to the guest of honour.
Some questions do remain. The decision to break the Ifta awards into two sections - the rest of the TV awards happen later on the year - makes a kind of sense, but why is this batch described as “film and drama”. What they mean is “film and TV drama”. A year after the change was made, casual viewers are still slightly puzzled by the phraseology.
No matter. The awards seem to have profited by dialling down the flash and extravagance. The organisers will be disappointed that neither of the lead acting winners was able to attend. Saoirse Ronan is currently appearing in a production of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible on Broadway. Michael Fassbender, who won for Steve Jobs, is also working abroad.
Nonetheless, the late spring gloom was illuminated by much star wattage. Natalie Dormer, star of Game of Thrones, and her partner Anthony Byrne, nominated for directing Ripper Street, could hardly have looked more luminously glamorous.
Sarah Greene, who won best supporting drama actress (that’s to say ‘TV drama’) for Penny Dreadful, blazed in red. The canny actor Eva Birthistle, now moving into directing and writing, was as articulate as ever. Andrew Scott was there to tell The Irish Times about his upcoming turn as Hamlet. “It was something I resisted for a long time, but I think I am suitable casting for the attributes he has,” he says. A procrastinator then? “I don’t know, maybe. We’ll see. A gag there. Ha ha!”
Stephen Fingleton, Northern Irish director of the fine post-apocalyptic thriller The Survivalist, won the Rising Star award (presented in conjunction with the Irish Film Board). There was Ulster action elsewhere. Roma Downey, the distinguished actor, producer and philanthropist, received the inaugural Irish Diaspora Award from Mr Geldof. Born in Derry, she recalled travelling to the United States with little else but a “cassette of Astral Weeks”. She then thanked all her friends “including the great Van Morrison”. At his table, Mr Morrison, implacable as a senior mob boss, inclined his mighty jaw through15 degrees. That stands in for a whoop and a high five in MorrisonLand.