The trial of Eamonn Lillis for the murder of his wife Celine Cawley was always going to grip the imagination of the public because the tragic events of December 2008 involved people who, in a material sense, had come to represent the realisation of all of our ambitions.

It had it all: the wealthy couple, the beautiful home on Howth Head, the successful businesswoman who had carved a career that brought her to the top of the toughest of professions, and of course, the beautiful mistress, the passionate affair, the admission of lies, the brutal death.

But its setting in the new court buildings gave it an added dimension. It became the first major murder case held in these modern buildings and as such a test case for the impact that technology can have on our perceptions in a major criminal trial.

The question now is: does all this technological wizardry help or hinder justice? Do the replayed tapes of the 999 call and the endless video footage of the luxurious home in one of Dublin's most distinguished addresses add to a jury's comprehension and ability to picture what happened, or do they hype up the tension and sense of drama in an already emotionally charged environment so much that it makes it harder than ever for a dispassionate dissection of the facts?

Thanks to the presence of so many cameras, of crowds, of almost minute-by-minute accounts of what went on in court on the internet, Twitter and hourly news updates, this was the closest an Irish trial has ever come to the drama of a televised court case, OJ Simpson style, or the reconstructions of the Michael Jackson trial.

But whether the experience of the Lillis trial is the best template is a point for debate for all those who take part in trials, from the judges to the prosecution team and the media who report the events.

Court 19 has it all in terms of media aids: there are flat-screen tvs, surround-sound audio systems with playback capabilities and life-like video links to an annexe used for jury selection and crowd overspills, as well as video links to a special room kitted out for witnesses who are minors.

Do these devices have a revelatory role in helping jurors or do they sensationalise rather than aid a jury's deliberations? As the events were clearly 'entertaining' in the worst possible sense, crowds started to pour into the new courts building, overwhelming the court space. People had to watch via video from the annexe, adding to what Judge Barry White acknowledged to the jury when they brought their manslaughter verdict, were additional pressures on them.

From the prosecution and gardaí's point of view, it was understandable that, because they now had the facilities to screen video footage of the crime scene, they wanted to give the jury a good picture of the place where Celine Cawley was killed by Lillis, on the deck outside the kitchen of her home. But was it wise for them to show so much more, just because they could? They screened pictures of the entire home decorated for Christmas, the couple's separate bedrooms, the garden with its fashionable ornamental cow. There were times it resembled an episode of MTV's Cribs rather than part of an important quest for justice for a woman who had died violently and the man accused of killing her who was attempting to justify what he had done. Did it fall into the realm of plain voyeurism prompted by the technical ability to show an on-screen guided tour of an upmarket home?

The decision to insist that the couple's daughter give evidence through the new facility of a video link to a court suite specially designed for minors was another questionable nod to technology. Again, just because the facilities were there did not mean they had to be used. Could her statement not have been read to the court as would have happened before the new building opened? Did her presence simply add another layer to the already sensational events?

The playback of the 999 call was, of course, vital but taken with everything else it seemed to feed into the atmosphere of a thriller and add to the frenzied, filmic quality within the trial itself.

If the result of all this had been to add to the jury's insight, it might have been worth it, but if anything the drama within the courtroom meant that stereotypes of those involved came more easily, particularly of the women.

Jean Treacy was the classic femme fatale, beautiful and built to stir the heart of the older man in a loveless marriage. The prosecution introduced that line of thought early on thanks to the garda interviews with Lillis which at times resembled scripts from a crime drama. "She's say jump, you'd say how high?" But while it may have been an understandable interviewing ploy, did the trial judge have to join in with his references to racing pulses reminding him of the duet 'My Goodness Gracious Me' where Sophia Loren tells Peter Sellers her heart goes boom boody-boom boody-boom boody-boom? Judge Barry White may have been trying to inject a common touch to his summing up, but the reference demonstrates how easy it is for even those who should be firmly applying the rigorous hand of the law on the proceedings to be caught up in a runaway train.

Outside the courtroom, Treacy's own treatment became a totally fabricated debate about justice being seen to be done simply because it is now possible for a witness to enter the court building, with garda approval, without being seen. This 32-year-old woman got involved with a married man for just eight weeks before he was charged with his wife's murder. Until that event happened, her life was as ordinary or as complicated as every other person – and there are many who have been in that situation. And yet the hype that built up around her was unprecedented. The fact that she was shielded from media photographers and television cameras when she entered and left the building by the newly designed underground entrance caused uproar.

But if anyone has been the victim of stereotyping in this trial, it is the victim herself, Celine Cawley. So little about this successful woman's life and personality emanated from the evidence. She almost became a cipher, portrayed one-dimensionally as the successful, dominant career woman who earned five times what she paid her husband. All we knew was that, once a beautiful model in her younger years, she had since put on weight.

The warmth of her personality, her business acumen, her generosity, the reality of her relationship with her husband and her daughter were a blank.

The jury decided Eamonn Lillis had "no intent" to murder her when he fought with her on the patio a week before Christmas 2008. For that reason they brought in a manslaughter verdict.

Their deliberations amid unprecedented interest were incredibly detailed and a tribute to the dedication juries give to these cases. But there must be a measured and sensible debate about whether, in the end, they were helped or hindered by the sensationalism which is a fact of life outside, but which as a result of the facilities now available, in this case, seems to have crept into the courtroom itself.

The reality now is that when the dust has settled after Eamon Lillis is sentenced next Thursday, the jurors will return to their normal lives, the media will move onto other subjects, the judge will hear new cases and the legal teams will move onto new challenges. There will be other high-profile cases in the new court buildings and no doubt other issues to debate in relation to their conduct.

Celine Cawley will stay dead. Her daughter will grow up without a mother. Her father, her brothers, sisters, extended family and friends will live their lives mourning the space she used to occupy and the contribution she made. Their grief will go on.