The Irish Film Theatre reaches the age of five later this month but, in the eyes of this cinema-goer at least, there is little to celebrate. How can it be, at a time when the cinema in Ireland is supported, subsidised and cosseted like never before, there is less - not more - choice on the screens of Dublin? Modern cinema has many problems and it would be foolish to blame the IFC for all of them, yet the centre's record in widening choice and bringing in new audiences has been hugely disappointing.
In September 1992, when the IFC opened, film-goers seeking a break from the dominant Hollywood-produced diet could have taken their pick of three French and one French/German productions showing in the Screen and the Light House. The IFC opened with Waterland, an unremarkable film with a vague Irish connection and little staying power.
Today, that choice is gone. Last month there wasn't a single non English-language film showing in Dublin. Hollywood's supremacy was more marked than ever. Repertory - any damn film more than a few years old - was completely absent. Meanwhile, the IFC was continuing its habit of showing two US "indie" films (independent of what, one might ask?); the offbeat but unremarkable Palookaville and the truly execrable Trigger Happy. Why on earth was a film like Trigger Happy left to block up one of the two screens in the State's national cinema, when it was clearly without virtue, critical acclaim, or local popularity?
Like so many of the other "indie" films shown by the IFC over the years, its main distinguishing feature is a devotion to explicit and casual violence. Acceptance levels of on-screen violence vary between different people, but the threshold levels of the IFC programmers are clearly set higher than mine.
None of this would matter much if the IFC was out there in the free market. But it isn't. After the Abbey and the Gate, it is the largest recipient of Arts Council grants. Since 1993, the council has grant-aided the Film Institute of Ireland to the tune of £1.4 million, and most of this goes on the IFC. Last year's grant alone was £347,000. But at the opening of the centre in 1992, the then cinema director, Mick Hannigan, was quoted as saying: "Our target is to achieve over 110,000 admissions a year. We're absolutely reliant on meeting that target - we're not in receipt of Arts Council funding to run the cinemas, so we live or die by our box-office".
As a club, the IFC does not have to pay the licence fees payable by mainstream cinemas when showing a film. Yet the cost of membership has increased from £6 to £10 since the centre opened. The sense of disappointment with the IFC is compounded by a look around the premises. The building itself is marvellous, but in five years of cinema-going I have never once found the toilets clean. An attempt to sell sweets and ices - an obvious revenue-earner in any cinema - collapsed early on, and hasn't been revived. Piped muzak dominates the bar atmosphere.
The IFC comes off badly in any comparison with the Light House, which closed two years ago. The Light House was dingy and badly situated, but its devotion to showing top-notch foreign films inspired intense loyalty among art-movie fans. As one of these wrote to The Irish Times in 1995: "Unlike the IFC, where a pony tail and a metal camera case seem to be a prerequisite for entry, the Light House has a genuine laid-back atmosphere".
The lack of repertory cinema is arguably the greatest shortcoming in Dublin cinema. Other cities are not so neglectful. In Paris, for example, queues form - even in summer - outside the small Left Bank cinemas every time a Frank Capra or Ernst Lubitsch season starts. Yet what was there to see in Dublin over the last bank holiday weekend, when the rain came teeming down and thoughts turned to a matinee showing? Where were the Jimmy Stewart or Robert Mitchum films, to name but two stars who died recently and deserve to be remembered in Dublin's cinemas?
To be fair to the IFC, its programming has become more diverse since Sheila Pratschke become director. The proportion of older films, and seasons of non-English language films, has increased. However, it's still too easy to miss these occasional showings, many of them once-offs. So why not show such films on a revolving basis, at different times and on different days? Pratschke has made technical improvements to the building - the auditoriums used always be too hot or too cool - as well as reducing the IFC's debt. But if she wants to make the IFC the place to go for cinema-goers of all tastes and ages, there is still much to be done.
Paul Cullen is The Irish Times Development Correspondent
