It wasn't a joint committee session, it was a love-in (or a luvvie-in, to be precise). On one side of the room sat an array of deputies, as starry-eyed as a bunch of young wans at a Westlife show.

"It's not often you see Hollywood come to Leinster House," fluttered Fine Gael's Olivia Mitchell. "My favourite film is 'The General'," offered her colleague Michael Ring bashfully, while the Green's Mary White was openly star struck. "I've been a bookseller all my life," she revealed.

"It's wonderful to see you across the desk today".

All of a sudden the windowless, functional, fluorescent-lit chamber seemed as glamorous as the Chateau Marmont.

Across from the politicians sat Brendan Gleeson, last seen hoisting an Emmy award in Los Angeles, and beside him was Colum McCann, whose new novel 'Let the Great World Spin' had just that very afternoon landed him a nomination for the seriously heavyweight National Book Awards in the US.

Meanwhile, sitting in the gallery waiting to speak were author Sebastian Barry (Man Booker nominee, Costa winner) and theatre director Garry Hynes (Tony award winner, among a variety of gongs).

Alas, their compadre Gabriel Byrne wasn't able to stay for the love-in as he had a plane to catch. But he had put the heart crossways on various female denizens of Leinster House when he popped up on the plinth for the photo-shoot.

Nonetheless, his presence was a sure sign that the cultural shock troops are massing on the borders of the land of Philistine these days, armed to the teeth with verbal grenades and prepared to repel any attacks on the official end of the arts business.

The plot has thickened considerably since the publication of the An Bord Snip Nua report which puts Colm McCarthy in the role of Freddy Krueger. If the Evil Economist gets his way, the Arts Minister Martin Cullen is set for a grisly end, and there'll be blood all over the floor of the Arts Council.

And there's nothing to bond folk together like a common enemy, and there was agreement from all sides of the floor on who exactly is villain of the hour. "Never mind Colm McCarthy," snorted Michael Ring, before taking some hefty poetic licence. "Politicians live in the real world. I'm afraid economists don't," he added loftily.

Sebastian Barry was in agreement, but naturally upped the stakes in terms of rhetoric. Speaking with effortless eloquence on the structures "heroically put in place" by governments and agencies, such as the Arts Council, to help developing artists, he declared, "I don't think it would be a tragedy to get rid of these things. I think it would be the end of our country and I think we'd need to call it something else. "We'll have to call it McCarthyland or something like that," he said gloomily.

The session began with an opening salvo from Pat Moylan, the chairman of the Arts Council. "I believe that the arts provide a vital uplifting of the soul of the nation. I know it is something not apparent to everybody," she said. "Until theatres go dark, until festivals are cancelled, until artists and actors join the interview queue for Dunnes Stores".

Colum McCann had just arrived into Dublin from his home in New York.

"I would've swum over to be here," he said fervently. Currently in the middle of a major book tour, he explained, "I've travelled extensively and every country seems to say 'we're best friends of the Irish, we have a special relationship with you'," he said, adding, "We have had the privilege to tell our stories; we don't want our unique voice to become part of the global elevator music."

Brendan Gleeson took centre stage then. He discussed the perils of cutting funding to the arts in terms of attracting film projects to Ireland. "It's interesting to note that 'In Bruges' (the Oscar-winning film he starred in alongside Colin Farrell) increased tourism to Bruges by 30pc," he said. "Even though Colin's character called it a shit-hole," he added with a grin.

But not everyone was so bowled over by Brendan. Fianna Fail's Wexford TD Sean Connick had his own views on matters. "I thought 'In Bruges' wasn't a good film," he sniffed (everyone's a critic). Instead he reckoned that there could be a film called 'In New Ross', after his own hometown.

Olivia Mitchell had a sudden 'All About Eve' moment. "Is it a shit-hole?" she enquired of Sean sweetly, earning herself a laugh

It was all very jolly, with the hissing and booing reserved for Colm 'Krueger' McCarthy.

Dear oh dear. Poor Colm. But this is only act one, and in these dramatic days of gothic horror, the most creative of pens is rarely mightier than the economist's slash-hook.

- LISE HAND

Irish Independent