By Reid Collins on 1.21.05 @ 12:06AM
Poor Moonves is doing not a little to bring CBS News into the MTV age.
By George, he's got it!
Yes, Leslie Moonves has hit upon the formula for reversing all
that Henry Higgins taught Eliza Doolittle about the king's English.
And all some newscasters once held sacred. And not just
pronunciation, either; the whole kit & kaboodle -- spelling,
usage, construction. You name it, and if your name for it is a bit
risqué, what the heck, that's how people friggin' talk
nowadays.
Moonves, president of CBS for those just back from Mars, is
taking the occasion of the news division's embarrassment over the
60 Minutes airing of memos of dubious authorship assailing
President Bush's Air National Guard Service to revamp the entire
presentation of news. No more the authoritative voice speaking from
on high à la current anchors; now a more ensemble
presentation of folks talking just like folks, more like -- well,
more like you are likely to see and hear on your local station.
"A revolution and not an evolution," says Moonves. He notes that
network news, and especially at his network, has been losing
audience over the years, and especially that vital audience of
youngsters. How to get 'em? Be like 'em. Make Henry Higgins more
like Eliza Doolittle, like.
A few suggestions, like. A new set. (Already in work?) Blur
further the area between straight news and commentary. (Straight is
a suspect word, anyway.) Have the anchors react to what they read
like they do on local, feigning sadness, joy, horror, shock, and
awe in rapid succession to fit the tenor of the story at hand.
Learning these rapid transitions is one of the primary concerns of
a would-be local anchor.
As a matter of staffing, of course the name Couric comes up.
Perky, good legs. A general demeanor that says, "I am hiding
nothing." Male anchors, successful ones, anyway, must have
up-turned brows -- no furrowing as if there might be thought behind
them, but forever upturned as if the owner were forever surprised
by the import of what he has to say.
Moonves has had kind words to say about Jon Stewart, the comic
who does pseudo news on the cable outfit, Comedy Central. How about
this? A series of anchors, Couric (can you afford her?), Stewart,
and whoever else survives the 60 Minutes faux pas read a
series of stories and then the audience votes? No, not on which
reader read the best, but rather which of the stories was true? The
tsunami in Lake Erie was false, the CEO who gave back the money was
false, but the dog who found his home from three blocks away was
true. Cable avails itself of audience participation all the time. A
silly question is posed, and the audience votes and at the end of a
shift the tally is made public. What works for cable will surely
work for network, like. Lots of bells and whistles, whooshing
sounds and frequent splashes of "Flash!", "Bulletin!!"-- words
whose meanings have been bastardized and lost and may be thrown
upon the screen at any time.
There is no reason why the latest failure or reject from one of
the reality shows should not be asked to read a couple of stories,
and perhaps some of the runners-up from American Idol
could sing a car-jacking or two. The concept of sanctity among
networks is long gone. Invite the staff of competing networks to
come over occasionally. CBS newsfolk appear on CNN regularly,
whereas there was a time when the mere admission of another
network's existence was grounds for dismissal.
Speaking of time, there was one when the language was prized on
the major networks. And attention was paid. An English professor,
Dr. W. Cabell Greet, would call the CBS newsroom whenever he heard
a mispronunciation or misconstruction. It was one of his jobs. A
prize in English Literature still is given in Greet's name at
Barnard College.
There is an advertisement running currently on the networks for
a luxurious Jaguar automobile. A cultured woman's voice lists its
merits then concludes... "which begs the question: how can you
resist?" Cabell Greet would beg to differ.
No telling how far this democratization of news presentation may
go, or its conflation with the entertainment division. Those still
in the business may wonder how this stuff suddenly got so deep.
This execrable tsunami stems from the 60 Minutes
earthquake far beneath West 57th Street in New York City.
topics:
Business
