Appearing on TV
TV news programs have a reputation for being vapid. And rightfully so: as "smart" is to "slow" is to "mentally disabled," so print media is to radio is to TV. The implication is that TV's talking heads just aren't as smart as print journalists and pundits — they're paid to look good, not to think. Instead of brain cells, they've got hair gel. And that's the way the medium works.
That's a comforting analysis, particularly if you're a print journalist. But the truth is more complicated.
I recently appeared on The Al Franken Show to talk about a recent column I wrote for Flak. These days, The Al Franken Show is a Sundance program, as well as an Air America show — as your voice is broadcast over the radio, your image is sucked up into the scary TV cameras in order to be projected across the country via the magic of cable television.
Here is what happens when you write a column:
You think about the facts. You think about what your opinion of the facts is. You think about how to create a synthesis of the two, embroidering the affair with wit and classy writing. Whammo. A column!
Here is what happens when you talk about that column on the radio:
You try to keep the 3-4 central points of the column at the top of your head in case the host wants to segue to any of them. You keep checking a crib sheet of your best lines and most interesting factual tidbits. You try to stay aware of your vocal mannerisms, your use of silence, and the best way to jump to a particularly juicy point during the next conversational lull.
Here is what happens when you talk about that column on TV:
Your try to remember at least one of your major points. Meanwhile, you worry about your hair and makeup. You debate between looking at the host, co-host or the camera itself. You want to check your crib sheet, but you worry: How will this look to the viewers at home? You think about your column again. What was it about? How much time is left? What's going on with my suit — how does it look on a 27-inch screen? Oh, crap: the column! The issues! Oops, time to wrap things up.
And this is a best-case scenario. This assumes you don't become overwhelmed by The Fear, that fast-moving, incapacitating awareness that your image, your thoughts and your every move are being tranmitted to thousands of potentially unfriendly or even jocular strangers scattered across the country. Strangers who relish your every mistake, pouncing upon them for comic fodder.
As you have pounced upon a thousand mistakes and awkward appearances yourself. Oh — the irony!
Verdict: Appearing on TV is far, far harder than it looks. Excruciatingly painful as it is, it's time to give Tucker Carlson a whole new level of respect.
For as smug, irritating and unprincipled as Carlson may be, he manages to surf the TV medium with ease and confidence. And there's a lot to keep straight when you're balancing an issue, your interpretation of that issue, your conversation with other people and the dead-eyed eternal stare of the camera.
With all that going on, of course you're going to seem a little slow or distracted or — at the very best — glib. In fact, the way TV news gets assaulted is eerily similar to the way cartoonists always get slagged by those who dwell within the purely print medium: dumb! Pretty pictures, not smart thoughts! Just a bunch of pixels, not the pure piercing intelligence of Proustian printed words!
Yes, TV guests and hosts are not always as crisp and perfect as your purely written world because they're trying to do three things at once.
The next time you knock comics as an inferior medium, or give Sean Hannity the middle finger for being a simplistic boor, step back and consider this: multi-level media are hard as hell to master.
Then give Sean Hannity the middle finger for being a partisan hack. But respect his telegenic presence.
That shit is harder than it looks.
— James Norton (jim@flakmag.com)
— graphic by Benjamin Chandler (blchandler at sbcglobal dot net)
