Film festivals are a chance to see stars in the flesh, enjoy old masters in a collective experience, and banter with fellow enthusiasts

WHAT THE HECK are film festivals for? All the movies eventually turn up in regular cinemas, do they not? (No, actually.) Who wants to potter along at 11 in the morning to watch Belgian shepherds coping badly with some sort of economic slump? (Me.) The whole business is a bleeding nightmare.

There are, one assumes, idiots out there who hold these views. But the hordes sweeping across Dublin this week seem to think differently. It’s easy to glibly manufacture complaints about a decline in the nation’s collective powers of concentration. But an impressive array of cinemagoers still feels the need to patronise events such as the Jameson Dublin International Film Festival.

Why are they bothering? Well, one superficial answer is that you get to gawp at the talent and ask them a few questions. A genuine wash of excitement gathered around the Savoy Cinema on Monday when Al Pacino turned up to present his agreeably deranged documentary Wilde Salome. You don't get to see the president handing Al Pacino a career achievement award on your DVD night.

Glenn Close added some star power on Saturday when she glided in behind the cross-dressing drama Albert Nobbs. "I was on the front page of the Inquireras the most hated woman in America," she told this newspaper when recalling her role as Alex in Fatal Attraction. "I hope they are not talking about me personally. I have that piece yellowing on my wall. I hope they were talking about Alex Forrest."

Avid movie-makers are, of course, equally interested in the cult film-makers whose work has enlivened art-house cinemas over the decades. Fans of dry articulacy were out in force when Wilt Stillman, director of ultra-talky gems such as Metropolitan, swung by to present his first film in 13 years. Damsels in Distressproved to be worth the wait. The film, following students at an elite college, continues Stillman's ironic obsession with likably pretentious nutters. But a new strain of gentle surrealism has crept in. Talking after the screening, he explained how one group of female students had entirely transformed the atmosphere at his own university (Harvard no less). I trust that wherever they are – in Congress and top-notch literary departments, perhaps – they are aware of their immortalisation.

Albert Nobbsand Damsels in Distresswill receive distribution in Ireland. (Close's film was picked up for these territories just this week.) But film festivals such as JDIFF also offer platforms for those pictures that, despite abundant appeal, struggle to interest hard-nosed distributors. Let's hope somebody takes a punt on Ivan Kavanagh's impressively odd Tin Can Man. Kavanagh has, over the last few years, been steadily accumulating a sturdy reputation as a low-budget maestro. Our Wonderful Homeshowed real promise. The Fading Lightstunned sensible viewers at JDIFF in 2010. For the 2012 edition, Kavanagh offers a significantly refurbished version of a creepy picture from 2007. With its study of a lonely man going through existential hell, the picture confirms that the Irish director is as versatile as he is gifted.

What else are these things for? Well, there is nothing quite so pleasurable as reacquainting oneself with a classic picture in the presence of an appreciative audience. It is particularly delicious to encounter a silent film buffed up and accompanied by a good score. On Sunday, happy punters got to enjoy a rare outing for the venerable Swedish film Häxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages. Such experiences remind one that, when originally released, silent pictures looked as shiny and bewitching as any contemporary CGI epic. Watching these disinterments, one feels simultaneously special and part of a crowd. Hey, if you were at Reservoir Dogslast night you would have had Michael Madsen in the relevant crowd. You don't get that from a DVD extra.

Then there are those pictures that gather attention at other festivals and advance towards you bearing increasing weights of acclaim. Lucky jerks such as your current writer got to see Aki Kaurismaki's Le Havre(astonishingly touching comedy) and Nuri Bilge Ceylan's Once Upon a Time in Anatolia(rigorous Turkish crime procedural) at last year's Cannes Film Festival. Attendees at JDIFF now feel themselves part of an international club.

What are film festivals for? Well, the most important draw is, perhaps, the ability to watch films in a space stuffed with fellow enthusiasts. The screening on Saturday of Ron Fricke's Samsarawas a case in point. Following on from his work on great pieces such as Koyaanisqatsi, the cinematographer-turned-director offered another stunning – if slightly preachy – adventure in gorgeous non-narrative cinema. The screening took place in blissful silence. Nobody used his or her phone. Food was consumed discretely. All movies should be watched this way. Thank heavens for film festivals.

JDIFF highlights

WEDNESDAY

* BuckAcclaimed documentary concerning Buck Brannaman, the man known as the real-life horse whisperer. Winner of an audience award at the Sundance Film Festival. 6pm, Cineworld

* In DarknessEsteemed Polish director Agnieszka Holland returns with a drama on the relations between Catholics and Jews in her native country during the second World War. 8.10pm, Cineworld

THURSDAY

* Wonder HouseSounds like a fascinating exercise. This Irish film attempts to get at the mechanics of the creative process by asking scientists to recall their childhood experiences. 6.30 pm, IFI

* Santa SangreVery welcome unearthing of (no hyperbole here) one of the weirdest films ever made. Alejandro Jodorowsky is up to his old surrealist tricks in this 1989 oddity. 8.10pm, Cineworld

STAR SPOT

Martin Sheenwill be in town to attend a screening of Stella Days, Thaddeus O'Sullivan's new picture at the Savoy.