Judith Klassen
Movie Entertainment
January 2010
Someday we’ll view this period of media madness like folks did the light bulb. Yes, electric illumination is efficient, but also harsh, showing every crack in a face and every crumb in a corner. And what about all that downtime that unimpeded darkness imposed? With the flick of a switch, gone.
Progress is inevitable and tantalizing – but it can also be ugly. Take the news, for instance. The rapidly evolving Web keeps us up-to-the-minute on anything and everything, but vanished is the depth, and sometimes even the facts. Progress is not synonymous with improvement. And with a populace hopped up and hungry for sound bites, the tarting-up of TV news has become a virulent pandemic with no vaccine.
It’s not the beat – it’s the banality.
In the United States, they have redefined what passes for news: Wars are given kicky handles that elicit images of cheesy paperbacks, celebrity adoptions are considered foreign affairs, and presidential puppy choices are “our top story tonight.” But it wasn’t until recently that I felt a creeping unease about the future of news reportage in Canada.
A couple of months ago at the launch of CBC’s revamped news program, a serious journalist awkwardly pitched the show’s facelift. Then came a brief speech from her respected colleague, a former Middle East war correspondent, who, while plugging the renovations to the studio, looked ready to dodge shrapnel and falling two-by-fours. I don’t blame the journalists. They’re hard-working people with good jobs that are slipping away – unless they adapt, devolve and bend over.
No news is bad news.
These are, after all, desperate times, and real journalism costs money. And by the time that army of fact-checkers has put on its boots, Balloon Boy has flown halfway around the world. Citizen journalists have risen en masse to speculate on everything from politics to Janet Jackson’s nipple.
Says longtime CBS correspondent and 60 Minutes veteran Morley Safer, “The blogosphere is no alternative, crammed as it is with ravings and manipulations
of every nut with a keyboard.” And the “citizen” reaction to Safer’s analyses has been ferocious. The truth is somewhere in the middle. Bloggers bring fresh perspectives and blunt truths, and may be unaffected by advertising dollars. They also can be grammatically challenged, excessively biased or just plain clueless.
But some of those citizens are also laid off – or pissed off – journalists forced to create their own gigs so they can continue to write with integrity.
Funny is money.
Somewhere along the way, news and entertainment made like the Prince and the Pauper and switched clothing. We now have news pretending to be entertainment and entertainment pretending to be news. If you want authentic political debate, turn to comedy offerings like The Daily Show with Jon Stewart or Real Time with Bill Maher. Maher’s opening monologues aren’t simply pithy – they bluntly address the real issues.
On the Balloon Boy phenomenon, Maher said: “I don’t want to say we have a special-needs media, but they were literally mesmerized by a shiny object.” When the laughs died down, he added, “Why couldn’t they do a quick report on the healthcare bill? That was something empty that slipped away.” Not so many chortles over the latter. Real news is rarely jolly.
We can’t log in and check our email without glimpsing a headline about some guy who traded his child for beer and meat, or a woman who is allergic to her husband. This glut of information makes us feel bloated and bewildered, yet those empty calories leave us hungry for something of substance. Maybe a light bulb briefly clicks on and for a moment we can see the media mess we’re in. But then our iPhone pings with a Twitter update – and, unconsciously, we reach for it.