Presenting the news
In the formative days of TV news the presenters mostly came from a theatrical background and were often treated as just another tool for the creative brains who put the news together. They had well-modulated voices and regular faces that did not distract the viewer. It all changed in the 1980s, when experienced journalists like Sir Trevor McDonald, Jeremy Paxman, Anna Ford and Michael Buerk moved into the presenter chair. Michael Buerk once said it was a very easy job. It certainly looks like big money easily made. Of course, it is not an easy job at all. Michael Buerk made it look easy because of his professionalism and skill. In fact news presenters – who fully understand the news they present – are really paid to be able to cope when things go wrong. An American President, Harry Truman, immortalized the saying: The buck stops here.’ Conceivably, in his case, it was true. The widespread misconception about ‘the buck’ in television news is that it stops at the desk of the messenger seen to be delivering the message, good or bad, directly to the viewer. In short, the person known as the anchor, newscaster, newsreader or presenter.
How it began: newsreader or newscaster?
Fascination with those who undertake the role goes back well before the days when newsreaders changed employers for huge salaries. Newsreaders themselves have been known to compare their role with the town-criers of old, the main difference being that they passed on the word to the people from a comfortable seat in a television studio rather than from among jostling crowds in the market square. They also operated on a much more personal level, as the late Robert Dougall, who read the news for the BBC for more than 15 years, wrote in his memoirs:
Television breeds a closeness and intimacy unlike that of any other medium. Your image is projected straight into people’s homes. You become, as it were, a privileged guest at innumerable firesides. What is more, a newsreader is not playing a role, not appearing as another character, or in costume, but as himself. He therefore builds up over the years a kind of rapport with the public.1
The truth of that was once gauged from opinion polls which consistently placed Walter Cronkite, a veteran of CBS News through most of the late twentieth-century, as being among the most trusted people in the United States.
The responsibility all this implied was fairly awesome. There was still more. A cough, hesitation or mispronunciation might easily make nonsense of the most serious or important piece of news. An erratic speed of delivery, especially during the few crucial seconds before the start of a news report, might have devastatingly destructive effects on the most carefully planned programme.
Yet between the early years, when the pioneers were expected to present the news anonymously off camera (in case an involuntarily raised eyebrow, facial twitch or some other expression could be construed as ‘comment’) and the beginning of the electronic revolution, the conventional newsreader was a rather contradictory figure. On the one hand he (and it was usually a male in those days) was accepted as the figurehead, the standard-bearer of the programme, admired and respected, the subject of unwavering public interest on and off the screen. On the other he was among the last to be consulted about content, style and format. Complaints that Reader A was prone to certain linguistic errors that Reader B scrupulously managed to avoid overlooked the fact that neither probably had very much to do with the way the words were written, only the way they were read.
So, sitting in front of a camera, reading aloud the fruits of other people’s labour with the aid of a written script and an electronic prompting device, directed through a hidden earpiece by a studio director next door, supplied with a reference system to aid the pronunciation of difficult words or names, scarcely seemed exacting enough to warrant all the acclaim. No job for a grown-up, as one reader put it.
True, there were nightly butterflies to be conquered for those terrified of making a mistake or losing a place on the page in front of millions. And yes, the hot lights might make the half-hour or so of programme transmission a trifle uncomfortable – dangerous occasionally when, as has been known, a studio light exploded in a shower of glass – especially if formal dress were expected on set. But even here the ‘standard newsreader shot’ usually revealed no more than the upper half of the body. The rest might just as well have been covered in crumpled old jeans or a pair of shorts for all the viewers knew. Before Angela Rippon (a popular news presenter in the 1970s) danced on a BBC Christmas comedy show, critics of news programmes had been known to wonder, rather cruelly, whether newsreaders needed legs at all.
As for the qualifications necessary for the work, these would seem to have been limited to an authoritative screen ‘presence’, a pleasant appearance, clear diction, lack of irritating mannerisms, and ability to keep cool when things occasionally fell apart at the seams: talents that, it may be said, bore a striking resemblance to those required for ‘ordinary’ television reporting.
Not every newsreader was a reporter who had come in from the cold, and some reporters regarded with horror the prospect of swapping their passports for a permanent place in the studio. The original readers of the news were not necessarily fully fledged journalists at all, although they could scarcely have been effective unless they had exhibited a reasonable interest in the subject. Some began as actors, announcers for different kinds of programmes, or were simply chosen because they had the looks and voices to suit the fashion.
The outstanding quality the best of them managed to bring to television news was an almost tangible manifestation of the editorial credibility of the programme they were representing, allied to some superb skills in delivery and pronunciation which gave a de-luxe finish to writing frequently undeserving of it. For the viewer they became as familiar as old friends, welcome, immovable points of reference on a world map of constantly changing contours and values. No wonder one newsreader of those days is able to recall from memory virtually every word from letters written by lonely, elderly women who admitted kissing the screen every night as he ended the late headlines. Others must have their own stories to tell of receiving gifts, invitations, compliments, declarations of undying devotion, proposals of various sorts – and occasionally unwelcome personal attention – all from complete strangers.
The species of non-journalist newsreader became extinct in the 1980s, its demise hastened by technical advances, the transmission of live pictures through the studio and the introduction of instant reactive interviewing which demanded journalistic expertise thought to be beyond the capabilities of all but a handful of television professionals.
In reality the movement began long ago with the introduction of newscasters, a subtle but distinct difference in title. These were employed to fulfil the same functions as the old-fashioned newsreader, except that he or she was also expected to make a positive contribution to a programme by writing some of it, acting as an interviewer within it, or both. As the price for such expertise programme bosses were prepared to accept less than cut-glass accents and features which, in the case of one much-respected veteran performer, I have heard described politely as ‘lived in’.
A sample snapshot taken at the start of 2000 showed that of fifteen people who could be identified as fulfilling reader roles on the continuous news services, morning, lunchtime, early evening and late night national television news programmes2 on channels available in the UK, all of them had backgrounds in journalism. Most had been reporters or correspondents, consistent with the modern policy of hiring anchors or presenters who are encouraged to play a positive role in the editorial decision-making process. Specifically, it is important they know about the stories they present, and certainly know how news is made. For the first time ‘transfers’ of leading players between news programmes on different channels – and sometimes between news programmes on the same channel – have taken place, with as much attendant publicity (and occasionally more acrimony) as transfers of footballers, the salaries involved subject to equal measures of envy and outrage.
The fear at one time was that as part of the justification for their pay packets the ‘stars’ would also be expected to make managerial decisions. Nowhere was this more apparent than in the United States, where some of the anchors wield considerable influence over programme policy, content, organization and personnel.3 In Britain this fear has proved to be largely unfounded and the only known example of a presenter also being part of the management was, briefly, at ITN.
Without doubt news presenters have brought their experience to bear for the good of their programmes, sometimes refreshing themselves with sorties back into the field for the big occasion. On the debit side ‘presenter power’ can pose a genuine problem for other members of the editorial team, who may resent having their scripts changed or rewritten. Some editors are intimidated by older, very accomplished occupants of the presenter’s chair, and in the face of a serious challenge to their own judgement, would probably rather back down than seek mediation from a higher editorial level, apprehensive about the choice an employer would make between a highly-paid television personality and an unknown working behind the scenes.
There also continues to be controversy over the amount of exposure news presenters should have outside their immediate sphere – whether their credibility is undermined or enhanced by their participation in quiz shows and other entertainment programmes, and how much they should engage in any debate over the news agenda. The difficulty for intelligent, active professionals is that presenting the news remains a fairly narrow occupation, and some who have done it for a while profess to hanker for a return to the good old days, when they were ‘on the road’. Where the lure of being in the public eye night after night remains hard to resist it is not surprising to find presenters anxious to broaden their activities.
Behind it all, the purpose of hiring the right presenter is to help build and retain a loyal following for news and other programmes. It is significant that market research among audiences has become one of the main tools used in presenter recruitment, but it is still arguable whether viewers actually prefer one news programme and its presenting team to another or whether their choice is governed chiefly by what precedes or follows. My own view, unfashionable though it may be, is that while a hard core of viewers is devoted to each of the main news programmes, the rest can be compared with ‘floating voters’. In the final analysis it is difficult to argue with those critics who suggest that who presents a news programme is of far less importance than what is shown and said on it.
A common alternative to the solo presenter supported by the occasional reporter or specialist correspondent presenting individual items within a programme is the reading double act, first exemplified by NBC’s highly successful pairing of Chet Huntley and David Brinkley, which began in the 1950s. Since then single-presenter news services all over the world have tended to follow suit whenever they have felt the need for a revamped format, and two-handed programmes have at times returned to one reader for the same reason.
The introduction of a second person into a formerly single-presenter news programme adds technical complications, possibly leading to a complete redesign of the studio set to make room for another camera. More thought has to be given to backings and lighting so there is continuity when the two presenters are shown separately in successive one-shots and then when they are seen together. Where other contributors are also expected to appear regularly there is the danger that the programme may seem to be cluttered with too many obstacles barring the way between the viewer and the news.
Most of all, it presupposes the discovery of not one but two first-class journalists willing to pool their talents for the sake of the common good. Compatibility is essential. The whole enterprise is as good as doomed, if (as has been known) the senior or more experienced member of the team is reluctant to share the studio with anyone else, regarding the new partner as an unworthy intruder, and it would be contrary to human nature if there were no pairs who simply couldn’t get on.
Although the camera may show them together in the same shot for only a few seconds at either end of the programme possibly half an hour apart, the best couples are able to give the impression that, however much their individual styles differ, they hit it off as a team, each member of it taking a genuine, continuing interest in what the other is doing, and not acting as one of two people who find themselves accidentally occupying the set at the same time. These experts somehow manage to ‘bounce’ off one another, each using perhaps no more than a hint of a head turn away from the partner’s direction before taking up a new story. Their manner is crisp, efficient and friendly, without recourse to the cosy ultra-informality which looks and sounds so phoney.
Figure 14.1 (a) Two-handed newscast. John Suchet and Kirsty Young on the ITV Lunchtime News set. The desk conceals computer and sound communications which are vital for the presenters. (Photo courtesy of ITN.) (b) A high-tech look and bold use of colour for the Channel Four News set.
Considerable research goes into the look of a news set, although designers always aim to try to combine an image which conveys both authority and relaxation. (Photo Gary Braid.)
Long discussions go on about how the work should be shared between presenters, in some cases down to the percentage of time on air an agent can negotiate for his client. What was special about the original Huntley–Brinkley partnership was that one was in Washington and the other in New York, resulting in a natural division of responsibility. Other pairs have been known to split home and foreign, ‘hard’ and ‘soft’, alternate whole items or single pages of script, or to play to the interviewing skills of one or the other. Sequences of out of vision commentaries spoken by alternate readers come across with real pace and punch, especially when the partnership consists of one female and one male.
Other members of the news team are likely to regard their presenter colleagues, whether one or two, with considerable professional respect as the instruments by which a series of unrelated events become fused into a complete television programme. They know that without an anchor the transformation would be impossible. Those programmes which have a succession of reporters popping up in the studio to introduce their own items are deluding themselves if they believe they have done something different. All they have done is to share out one role between many, for the function of linking one news event to the next remains the same, whoever does it.
A few staff, perhaps other journalists among them, may have a tendency to feel resentful about the way the job of delivering the news generally rates superstar treatment, especially since presenters began to write and rewrite much of the programme. And there is no disguising the effects on programme morale as a whole if those who present the news are careless of the feelings of fellow professionals.
For the most part, the advice to give writers is to stop worrying and start appreciating how their work benefits from having it well presented. For while a poor reader can certainly ruin a good script, the corollary of that is that a good reader can improve on a poor one.
The ‘writer’s reader’ has many qualities, mostly invisible to anyone except the insider. These include a natural gift for putting the emphasis in the right place, even on late scripts which have to be sight-read for the first time on transmission; the offer of exactly the right word or phrase which might have eluded the writer for hours; razor-sharp reactions to cues from the floor or control room, and the confidence and ability to smooth over the awkward moments which might otherwise lead to disaster.
At the other extreme is the presenter who is over-anxious, egotistical and temperamental, unwilling to accept advice, concerned only that the duties he or she is called upon to perform do not offend their public image, uncaring about the ulcer-making effects on production and editorial staff during transmission by slowing down or speeding up delivery as the mood takes them.
Not all programmes employ their presenters full time, effectively ruling out close collaboration with editorial staff, but where possible they should always be invited to attend conferences in order to absorb the feel of a day’s news before they might have to read it. Proper briefing should be given for interviews and questions not left to chance.
As transmission time approaches presenters should be warned of running-order changes and awkward or unusual words. Where pronunciation dictionaries do not exist, some form of index system should be compiled as a reference. Where necessary writers should be prepared to alter words or phrases to suit the presenter’s style, so long as the intended sense is not destroyed, and argue strongly when presenters take it upon themselves to make changes which would lead to inaccuracy.
Not surprisingly, the glamour associated with presenting the news is extremely appealing to many people. Regrettably most lack the necessary experience, voice and presence. Conventional good looks by themselves are not enough. Indeed the voice matters more than appearance. Training to improve the voice is hard work and difficult whereas plenty can be done with a person’s appearance. On the positive side few news organizations are complacent enough to ignore up and coming talent and many hold auditions as a matter of routine.
What they may be looking for is the occasional stand-in – someone to read at a weekend or overnight on a hot day in August, to take over temporarily while the regular stand-in replaces a presenter on special assignment or maternity. Maybe what they really want is a fresh face or voice for the traffic reports. Either way, once you have impressed them enough to earn a trial run you could be on your way.
The main difficulty lies in persuading the programme editor to put you on the audition list in the first place. Write or telephone to find the right destination for your enquiry and follow it up with a CV accompanied by a show-reel, perhaps put together on one of the commercial short courses available. But this must be relevant: if you want to be a presenter of a serious news programme then make sure you are seen presenting serious news items. Other examples of your work, paid or unpaid, with hospital or college radio and television and local radio will all help.
But remember, the chances of success at this stage are slim. As we have seen, news programmes tend to take their presenters from the ranks of experienced practitioners, and the best way of putting yourself in the shop window is first to become a journalist in television and work towards your goal gradually, picking up an all-round experience which will be invaluable if you do make it. What’s more you will have a lot of fun on the way.
1. Robert Dougall (1973). In and Out of the Box, Collins Harvill.
2. Breakfast News, The One O’Clock News, The Six O’Clock News and Nine O’Clock News (BBC 1); Newsnight (BBC 2); BBC News 24; BBC World Television News; Lunchtime News, Early Evening News, Evening News (ITV Channel 3); Channel 4 News (Channel 4); Channel 5 News (Channel 5); GMTV; Sky News.
3. See Barbara Matusow’s excellent history, The Evening Stars (Ballentine Books, 1984).