Studio invasion, dodgy autocue, exploding bulb - newsreaders stay calm
They inform us of triumphs and tragedies with perfect diction and gravitas aplenty but, occasionally, their nerves of steel are put to the test and the composure cracks. That’s when the television newscaster really proves their worth.
“Some people say you can train monkeys to present the news,’ says veteran newscaster Sir Trevor McDonald, “because it’s just a reading job, after all,” writes Steve Cain.
However, as technology has advanced, the newscaster’s role has become evermore demanding.
During any live broadcast, the presenter must be able to cope with a whole host of issues of which the viewers remain blissfully unaware. From late-breaking news to changes in the running order of the programme, the newscaster carries on with dignity and serenity whilst, behind the scenes, chaos ensues.
Most presenters listen to ‘open talkback’ through a discreet earpiece, meaning that they can hear everything that is going on in the production gallery. Often they will be required to deliver a serious or sombre story with sensitivity whilst not becoming distracted by the din in their ears.
“I always preferred open talkback,’ reveals Anna Ford. “It gives you a three-second warning of impending disaster.”
Then there’s the newsreader’s best friend – the autocue. Although it is an important piece of equipment, allowing the newscaster to read the news while maintaining constant eye-contact with the camera, it also has its own shortcomings.
“You have to be able to read a news story from the autocue in such a way that it makes sense first time, every time,” asserts Angela Rippon. “But it’s a big mistake to rely on it being there all the time.’
Like any piece of electrical equipment, the autocue can break down, which is why the majority of news presenters also simultaneously follow their paper scripts.
The newscaster must take in their stride other technological issues including malfunctioning microphones and cameras crashing into sets whilst also wondering if the top story has found its way out of the editing suite and onto the electronic system before the opening titles finish rolling. It’s a seat-ofthe-pants way of working that can, all too often, be nerve-shredding.
“Ninety per cent of the time – perhaps even more – all you’re doing is reading aloud,” admits Nicholas Witchell. “It is the other percentage moments when it can get really difficult.”
It would be reasonable to assume that the seasoned broadcaster might be referring to the incident that occurred on May 23, 1988, when four female demonstrators burst into the studios of the BBC’s Six o’Clock News and disrupted the beginning of the programme. They were protesting against a new law, Clause 28 of the Local Government Act, which banned local authorities from promoting positive images of homosexuality. It was clear to viewers, from the start of the live broadcast, that something was wrong. As the titles ran Witchell could be seen on the telephone, something which would not usually have been the case.
While his co-presenter Sue Lawley was introducing the news, one of the women handcuffed herself to a remotely-operated camera and another chained herself to Lawley’s desk.
“We have rather been invaded,” a slightly ruffled Sue Lawley told viewers, who could hear muffled shouting and what sounded like sets collapsing. However, she quickly regained her composure and, after apologising for the commotion, continued to read the headlines.
Out of vision, Nicholas Witchell sat on one of the women and covered her mouth with his hand to subdue her protests. The studio was only cleared when Sue Lawley introduced a recorded report on a House of Lords debate on the poll tax.
The women were taken to Shepherd’s Bush Police Station but were later released without being charged.
The incident was reported on both the BBC’s Nine o’Clock News and ITN’s News at Ten later that evening. A red-faced Tony Hall, BBC news and current affairs editor at the time, said: ‘What happened this evening was intolerable and there’ll be a proper enquiry to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.’
However, he praised the conduct of both Lawley and Witchell whom he felt had ‘behaved admirably.’
Despite retaining her poise, Sue Lawley later described the studio invasion as ‘a very alarming experience.’
Six years earlier, Jan
Leeming’s cool and unflappable reputation was also put to the test. Whilst presenting a lunch time news summary, a 625 watt studio light bulb exploded showering the newscaster with shards of molten glass, which only narrowly missed her face.
“I had just read a piece about the IRA and suddenly there was this enormous bang,” recalls Jan. “I remember feeling molten glass burning my backside but I managed to shake off the fragments and continue reading.”
Occasionally, though, it isn’t so much what the newscaster does that attracts attention but rather what they wear. In March 2002, the late Peter Sissons was criticised for not wearing a black tie when breaking the news of the death of the Queen Mother on the BBC.
Mary Nightingale who announced the news on ITV felt the criticism was unfair. “I felt very sorry for Peter Sissons,” she says. “I was wearing pale grey and didn’t have time to change, so had I been wearing a red jacket, for example, I too could have been absolutely castigated.”
Former Royal correspondent Jennie Bond agreed. “We had been told that it was no longer deemed absolutely essential to wear black, when reporting the death of a Royal, but sombre, sober colours – and he was wearing something perfectly sombre.”
It is inevitable that newscasters – some of whom we will have seen more frequently, during lockdown, than our family and friends – will attract much comment from viewers. What cannot be disputed is the role they play in times of national crisis and the importance of the trust we place in them to deliver the facts with authority,