(A celebrity is a person who works hard all his life to be- come well known, then wears dark glasses to avoid being recognised - Fred Allen)

There is something vaguely creepy about viewing a likeness in wax. For starters, the figures look like they've been hewn from a mix of melted-down Pot Noodle and marmalade, and touched up with a dab of nicotine. Then there's the way you're overcome with that irresistible temptation to touch, in some cases to taste, and occasionally, to steal. But most of all there's that itchy, niggling sense that it's them - except it's not really them. Or is it?

Waxworks allow Joe Public to waltz around his heroes, peering into their eyes, ears, up their noses, without having to deal with any such notions as respect and privacy. You can secretly touch the Pope's bum, exchange ironies with Bono, stick your fingers up at Freddie Kruger - you get closer, in a sense, than you ever could to the real thing. And it's not just the visitors who are thrown either. In a recent BBC documentary, entitled Wax- works of the Rich and Famous, Kylie Minogue was interviewed posing for a photoshoot beside her wax double at Madame Tussaud's. "What does it feel like?" the antipodean superstar was asked. Minogue held her pout for a second, cameras flashing, before responding that it was weird looking at herself from behind. "I've never seen that side of me before!"

"It's a weird feeling you get, like looking at or touching a corpse," says Kay Murray, administrator of the National Wax Museum. "Are they or are they not? The wax is absolutely freezing cold - maybe that's an attraction. You haven't touched Pat Ingoldsby down there, have you? He's crazy cold."

A celebrity is any well-known TV or movie star who looks like he spends more than two hours working on his hair - Steve Martin)

Situated at Granby Row near Parnell Square in Dublin, the National Wax Museum opened to the public on October 26th, 1983, but was by no means Dublin's first introduction to wax. Percy J. Francis, William Mossop and Samuel Percy were all early craftsmen who established something of a reputation in the city in the 18th and 19th centuries. Indeed, the latter exhibited in the Society of Artists in 1772, boldly advertising "Likenesses in coloured wax - profiles, whole lengths, groups and repairs - being the only person in these kingdoms who first attempted copying them, and who alone knows their texture".

Perhaps it was the reputation of men such as these that brought the inimitable Madame Tussaud to Ireland in 1804. The original queen of wax, Madame Tussaud (nee Marie Grosholtz) was born in Strasbourg, France in 1761, and honed her craft taking death masks of guillotined prisoners during the French Revolution. Disembarking in Dublin Port after a turbulent sea journey which saw a substantial portion of her collection lost to the Irish Sea, she set up residence at 16, Clarendon Street, exhibiting "everyday the most beautiful collection of figures executed from life" in the then Shakespeare Gallery on Exchequer Street.

Alongside portraits of villains and murderers, Tussaud exhibited her collection of relics from the French Revolution - general articles of gore which proved extremely popular with the public. These included the death masks of French nobility and the guillotine blade used to behead Marie Antoinette. Kept in an area known as "The Separate Room", (so that visitors with a nervous disposition could avoid them), the characters were soon gathered under the "Chamber of Horrors" title - to this day a synonym for all things bloody and dark.

Certainly, the National Wax Museum takes its cue from Madame Tussaud's, but the Irish operation is keen to play down comparisons. "Tussaud's are open 170 years and we're open 16 years," Murray points out. "I don't think it's right really to compare them. I think we have to have our own identity. There's a big Irish angle. We're very patriotic in here! Maybe we should put in a few more world leaders."

"You're always a little disappointing in the flesh because you can't be the edited version of yourself" - Mel Brooks)

`Our biggest patrons are Irish people. Tourists I would regard as a bonus. As a family attraction we're very popular, and indeed for school tours from Ireland and England - it's word of mouth really," Murray says. The museum receives on average 100 people a day, but during the summer this figure can stretch to almost 2,000. There are six full-time staff, including one wax sculptor, P.J. Heraty.

So how does it feel to be famous under scrutiny, to have your nostril-hairs poked when there's nothing you can do about it? "I thought of all the opportunities which people would have to throw rotten eggs and tomatoes at my image, and me not able to do anything about it in return," Gay Byrne remembers. "But I think to be asked to feature in such an exhibition is rather an honour." Pat Kenny still feels flattered. "I mean it's about 10 or 11 years ago at this stage, but I was presenting the Eurovision at the time with Michelle Rocha, so I suppose my name was more in the headlines than usual. I was pleased to feature alongside all the other rogues in the gallery!"

A gallery is a good description, seeing as most of the museum's 323 figures, which include those of Robert Emmet, W.B. Yeats, ET and Mary McAleese, are housed behind glass. "When we opened first there was no glass," Kay Murray sighs, "but someone stole the wig off Judge Norbury. I mean, that cost almost £400! We were really struggling at the time to keep the place open! But someone just lifted the wig so we had a rethink on it."

Theft is not confined to the judiciary. "We had to take Madonna out because her hands were damaged last Saturday week. Someone broke her fingers and took them away. Now we have to redo the whole hand. We've had to do the same with The Edge's hat in the past."

Most of the villains were captured on camera, but remain frustratingly at large. "It's never children who do the damage, it's always adults, but sure what can you do? People are generally OK. I think it's peer pressure, you know - `I dare you to do that' - but it doesn't happen very often."

"Fame is being asked to sign your autograph on the back of a cigarette packet" - Billy Connolly)

For years, celebrities have been received in the museum chambers, posing for measurements and photographs that will be used to help create a realistic wax replica. Creating the figures "is very time-consuming, very tedious work", and guiding them from drawing board to exhibition is a three-month process. "We use human hair and yes, it goes in strand by strand. We buy from hairdressers, or import it from London. Sometimes getting the right colour is hard. But if you put the wrong hair colour on someone's head it throws people. Eyes are terribly important too."

Joe Dolan felt "very honoured" when first approached to feature in the museum. He's not sure himself if the model is a good likeness, "but my brother Vincent said: `I'll bet you'd like to look as good as that'. It feels great and it gives you a certain status. It's nice to feel people think you are worthy of being there."

Bodies are cast in fibreglass for the most part, but sports figures - such as Steve Collins and Barry McGuigan - have their shoulders and torso cast in wax too. Michelle Smith's body is fibreglass, as are all the ones that are fully clothed. The character's hands are always modelled from real life. And the cost? "You're talking maybe in the region of £5,000."

All the living subjects have sat for a life mask, and almost without exception found the experience an eerie one. "I thought the experience of the mask daunting and claustrophobic," says Gay Byrne. "I didn't enjoy it, because I thought I was going to suffocate." Similarly, Pat Kenny remembers feeling "very uncomfortable at first, but afterwards I thought it a very interesting experience". The initial modelling is done in clay, and a plaster `negative' taken, from which the wax version is cast. "When the wax sets we take off the outer layer of the mould and then you get your wax head. And then the real work commences. You know, opening eyes, drawing in facial lines, doing hairlines and eyebrows and eyelashes."

"The eyes are artificial - the same eyes you'd use if you had an accident. A lot of the people have donated their own clothes, which is good, because people forget clothes cost a lot of money." To this effect, Joe Dolan's flamboyant white suit (he always wears white on stage) came from regular tailor Jas Fagan of Thomas Street, and Pat Kenny donated his Eurovision suit.

"The Taoiseach worked well," Murray remembers. "He's a very likeable guy. Someone told me that whoever he's speaking to, there's nobody else around only them, and I watched him and that's exactly how he is." When the figures get dirty, they are removed and cleaned, a process that includes having their hair washed. "We find we have to re-tint them. The wax is quite colourless, it's like putting on makeup. The figures in the Hall of the Megastars particularly tend to get grubby. The condensation and breath and heat - sometimes you'll have up to 100 children in there."

"In general all artwork is temporary, it's just a matter of how temporary" - Eamonn O'Doherty

Shuffling through the galleries, and especially the Chamber of Horrors, populated with glamorous criminals and crimes frozen in time, leaves the visitor feeling something akin to a cure searching for a disease.

The display was added in 1986 by public demand and remains "hugely popular". And it's not just the figures that are creepy. "There's two guys who come in here quite a lot and Dracula is their big thing. You may have noticed a cross in that scene - the cross on the floor? Well that's their contribution. They put the cross in, and it's still there. We didn't take it out - I mean, these guys are regulars, they come about five times a year, and always together." "The Chamber" forms the heart and quintessence of any wax museum, and since Madame Tussaud sprung the original idea so many years ago, has proved a nosebag of material for horror writers of every description. Figures come to life, claiming real-life victims. Museums burn down and waxy hands emerge from the rubble, scuttling across the city to terrorise innocent suburban teenagers. This one is no exception. With all the jumping that goes on, "we actually have to repaint the ground there every few months". Spookiest of all for those whose likenesses have been cast is the horrible truth that their star must wane. And when it does, their wax doppelganger will be removed from public view and with a morbid irony, decapitated.

"Listen, I've been thrown out a better joints than this!" Gay Byrne laughs. "I presume my time is fast approaching. Oh, how fickle the public can be. I suppose I'll be chucked in the bin alongside Hitler." Nor are our beloved TDs immune. "When the political situation changes we have to rethink," Murray agrees. "But we haven't melted anyone down just yet. I suppose it will be thought about in the future, but it's hard because you're so used to these guys being there. It'll be hard to take them out."

Among the requests that have cropped up in the visitors' book are, oddly enough, Sam Smyth and Vincent Browne. "There's big pressure at the moment for Ronan Keating, and a huge number of people have asked for Phil Lynott - it would have been his 50th birthday this year. They've also been asking for Van Morrison, Sinead O'Connor, Brian Kennedy and Tony Blair. But really I don't think you should look too long term at it. Look for today and not for tomorrow!"

"As long as it lasts another two or three years I'll be happy," muses Pat Kenny. But even he is resigned to the machinations of fame's great conveyor belt. "It's as inevitable as Father Time." No amount of grim talk can quell the spirits of Joe Dolan however. "How would I feel if the model were removed to make way for a newer celebrity? It'd be difficult to improve on me!"

The National Wax Museum is open daily from 10 a.m. to 5.30 p.m. and on Sundays from noon to 5.30 p.m. Adults are charged £3.50, students £2.50 and children £2.