Boston anchor Jack Williams recalls days of overinflated egos
Will Ferrell's "Anchorman" takes place in a TV news era that was ruled by testosterone-laden, hair-sprayed caballeros in a time when everybody -- and I mean everybody -- watched the 6 and 11 p.m. newscasts with a regularity that qualified as religious fervor.
Yes, those days, and maybe even some of those characters, really did exist 30 years ago. Nonetheless, the target audience for this film -- a young crowd used to remote controls that can blitz them through hundreds of channels and
And there were popular boneheads like the egomaniacal Burgundy on the air. But there was a reason for that, and it's one that really isn't explained in "Anchorman."
Back then, two stations dominated Boston: WBZ (with "Eyewitness News") and WCVB, Channel 5. To be an anchor on one of those two stations in the '70s gave one instant acceptance in New England and a power to persuade far beyond what should have been expected from "journalists" whose main claim to fame was a "certain something," or the "it" factor. I remember one general manager saying: "You either had `it' or you didn't." "It" didn't include journalistic talent or credibility. Audience research showed the majority of viewers "just liked" some people and didn't like others. Whatever this intangible was, likability equaled credibility on the small screen.
Being "loved" by the audience didn't always correspond with higher intelligence, or empathy, or common sense. And that's how the Ron Burgundies of the world rose to prominence. Ferrell apparently came up with the idea for this movie after viewing a documentary on television news in the '70s. His character became the anchorman, who brought you the news "so you don't have to get it yourself."
Into the movie's top-rated Channel 4 newsroom in San Diego steps Veronica Corningstone, a blond, beautiful, smart, educated example of a real journalist, with her heart set on becoming the station's first female anchor. Her addition to the all-male news team is greeted with about as much enthusiasm as the arrival of John Kerry in Kennebunkport. She's brilliant; the guys are all shallow, pompous lightweights. You get the idea.
How does this scenario compare with the real world of the '70s? When I arrived in Boston in the spring of 1975, I was paired with Tony Pepper. No one then thought it was unusual to have an all-male anchor team. But the atmosphere was nowhere near the frat house ambience depicted in "Anchorman." There were already some very strong women at WBZ in 1975, including Pat Mitchell (now the president of PBS), Sharon King, and Shelby Scott.
Over at Channel 5 the fun began a few years later when management combined Tom Ellis (having returned to Boston after failing to light the fire of New Yorkers) with Natalie Jacobson. It was obvious from the start that Jacobson was not Ellis's biggest fan, and she visibly seethed at his studied delivery. But the audience tuned in to watch the fireworks. Ellis eventually left, and Jacobson became a star.
A couple of years later, Pepper faded into the sunset and I started coanchoring with Liz Walker. It worked.
Local television will never go back to the Ron Burgundy style of superstar solo male anchor surrounded by an all-male news team. Diversity has proved to be a success, and the audience now is too splintered. There's 24-hour-a-day news, a separate weather channel, and all-sports channels. Today in Boston there are only a few on-air personalities who are well known throughout New England, and most gained their fame during the heady '70s. The odds of having a newly hired anchor becoming a dominant ratings-grabber are about as likely as Ralph Nader becoming president.
This movie is a little juvenile and far from perfect. For old time's sake, though, you may want to see "Anchorman" -- if for no other reason than to watch Will Ferrell step grandly out of a news helicopter with mike in hand after the chopper lands on a busy city street and then strike the perfect "Ron Burgundy pose."
Now that brings back memories.
