THE VOICE OF THE ANCHORPERSON
By Allan R. Andrews, Managing Editor
Pacific Stars and
Stripes,
Tokyo, Japan
First published September 17, 1995
The topic got
around to
television and someone brought up favorite network newscasts and
anchorpersons.
The barbecue had been tasty, the twilight was settling like a line from
a Robert Frost poem, and everyone spoke animatedly.
The group favored Peter Jennings over Tom Brokaw or Dan Rather. A few
said
they favored Connie Chung, not because she was any better but because
they
thought a woman could do the job as well as any man. We agreed the
network
bosses apparently didn't think so and that's why Chung was dumped.
Someone pointed out that a female anchorperson runs against the
conventional
wisdom of television consultants who put together these news teams.
An older, distinguished man as anchor, an attractive and stylish woman
as
co-anchor, a simple, athletic and gregarious young man or woman as
sports
editor, and an overweight or flamboyant buffoon to present the weather.
That's been the standard line-up for the nation's television news teams.
The buffoon weatherman is gradually giving way to a cerebral woman with
graceful hand movements, but the old formula is pretty standard across
the
nation.
The anchorman, nevertheless, remains the key, and our little group
chose
Jennings -- the Canadian without a college degree who seems the more
intelligent
-- as the favorite.
Someone in our
group remembered
watching international satellite news while visiting Japan. ``I got to
see
the news in Japanese, in German, in French and in some Middle Eastern
language
I couldn't identify,'' the traveler said.
``They all looked alike!'' he exclaimed. ``Formula news broadcasting
has
gone around the globe.''
Then someone sought the opinion of Gomer Guthrie, the resident
philosopher
and gadfly of Alterego, N.Y.
``Who's your favorite television anchorman, Gomer?'' he was asked.
In typical fashion, Gomer astounded and enraptured us with his
elaborate
answer.
``Well, I don't generally watch news on television,'' he began. ``Too
many
witless heads bobbin' and jabberin' in front of my eyes.
``I tend to favor the Ed Hurlihy approach.''
Eyebrows raised as the group turned to each other in puzzlement.
``Is he a local news man?'' someone asked.
It was Gomer's turn to look puzzled. He eyed us as though we should all
know Ed Hurlihy. Then a twinkle I'd seen before came to Gomer's eye. He
knew he had a captive audience and his lecture was about to begin.
``Well, children,'' he began, ``Very few folks know what Ed Hurlihy
looks
like 'cause you never saw him when he delivered the news.''
Gomer paused for
effect.
``Did you ever watch Movietone News -- or maybe it was Pathe News, I
can't
recall.'' Gomer shrugged. ``Didn't you see 'em when you went to the
movie
show as kids?'' he asked.
Bingo. I knew I'd seen that name somewhere. It flashed in my mind: Just
before the Zorro serial. Dramatic music and big headlines, with a deep
and
intense voice-over telling us the story behind the pictures we were
seeing,
often sounding a little too coy when the bathing beauties walked in
front
of the camera.
Somewhere on the screen an unassuming tag line read: ``Voice: Ed
Hurlihy.''
``The movie news had a problem,'' Gomer continued. ``They hardly took
themselves
seriously; they didn't know at that time that news was going to be a TV
money maker.
``News was thrown in as a short subject along with the cartoons and the
coming attractions.'' Gomer leaned back to detail his reverie.
``That was before television got going,'' he continued. ``Somewhere
along
the line talking heads took over the news.
``I think,'' he said as an afterthought, ``television news went bad
because
it followed radio instead of the cinema.''
Adopting a more
professorial
tone, Gomer added, ``I don't know how much you know about TV news, but
it's
sold in two forms: visuals and so-called tells.''
``I've studied that,'' I offered. ``That's the first thing a TV
producer
asks a reporter coming back from a story: `Got any visuals?'''
``That's right,'' Gomer said. ``And if there are no visuals, the
anchorman
has to `tell' the story so it's called a tell.''
Gomer shook his head disapprovingly. ``This tell business has gotten so
bad that a good part of TV news nowadays is one reporter interviewing
another
reporter; it's the teller asking another teller to tell the story. It's
given us the double-tell.''
Gomer looked me in the eye. ``You're a managing editor now, ain't you?''
I nodded.
``You and Dan Rather have the same job title.'' He paused, pursed his
lips
and shook his head. ``You could be reading the news of the day and
making
lots of money if you'd just gone into television.''
``Yeah,'' I responded in self-mockery, ``but you know, I'd be just
another
pretty face.''
``Not if you took the Ed Hurlihy approach,'' Gomer said without missing
a beat. ``That's its wisdom -- no pretty face, just a reading voice
behind
lots of good pictures.
``The British are closer to it,'' Gomer said, ``they don't have
`anchorpersons.'
Their newscasters are called `news readers.' Can you name a famous
British
news reader?''
Our group was mute.
``Television -- it's what they call a visual medium, ain't it?'' Gomer
asked
rhetorically.
``Do you know the average newscast boils down to about 22 minutes of
news,
and about half of that is spoken words without news photos?
``Movietone News was 12 or 15 minutes of pictures.''
``Wasn't Movietone News kind of a joke, though,'' a younger person in
our
group asked.
``It was,'' Gomer agreed. ``That's cause they let Hollywood types
produce
it-- personalities and fluff.''
I couldn't hold back my question. ``Are you saying today's TV news
producers
should reexamine the techniques of Movietone News and get rid of the
talking
anchorpersons?''
``Not get rid of them,'' Gomer said. ``Just hide them behind some good
pictures.
Like I told you, Ed Hurlihy style.''
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Allan R. Andrews can be reached at arandrews@aol.com
Gomer A. Guthrie (G.A.G.) can be reached at the same address.