Page One: Inside the New York Times

Written by Telly Davidson on Friday July 8, 2011

The new documentary Page One asks an important question: is it really surprising that people have lost faith in old media?

"The old newspaper business is dying.  PERIOD," proclaims noted columnist and author Jeff Jarvis, at one point in Andrew Rossi's up-to-the-second new documentary, Page One: Inside the New York Times, a film that sets out to show the who, what, when, where, and why of journalism's ongoing meltdown.

Indeed, the movie's opening is a symbolic montage -- reams of paper and ink-filled printing presses, imagery that's looking more and more like horses-and-buggies in the era of Henry Ford and Walter Chrysler, after the iPad, Kindle, and Huffington Post.  The next thing we see are the printed on paper editions of Denver's Rocky Mountain News and Seattle's Post-Intelligencer being sent to the death panel, while even the Boston Globe and San Francisco Chronicle are bleeding as much as $1 million per week.  (The movie was completed well before the atrocities at News of the World were revealed -- but the grim Murdoch revelations make Page One and its premise even more timely and chilling.)

Page One tells the story of the 2009-10 production year at the Times, focusing on several reporters (young bucks like Andrew Ross Sorkin and Tim Arango make appearances), but the main characters are embattled editor Bill Keller, and gruff, lovably no-nonsense media writer David Carr.  It also gives us a look inside the Times' temple of truth (which looks more like a trendy city library with its open floorplan, pop art and furniture and cubicles, than a headachy, fluorescent-lit Lou Grant or All the Presidents Mens sweatshop.)

Far from being a dry (dare I say) newspaper-like documentary, the movie moves at an almost Entertainment Tonight pace, covering the almost uncountable ways and means in which the newspaper, magazine, and book publishing model we've known for the past 150 years is being obsoleted at photon-torpedo speed.  From plagiarists and fact-cookers like Judith Miller and Jayson Blair ruining newspaper credibility, to the ethical questions surrounding WikiLeaks, to advertising revenues brought to their knees -- well before the 2008 meltdown -- by Monster.com, Craigslist, and Angie's List, it's all there.  Not to mention the autistic 8-year-old's attention span of Twitterized, text-messaging young readers, raised on shock journalism and reality TV.  If Page One can be faulted for anything, it's for information overload and biting off more than it can chew -- but it should be commended for trying.

Indeed, while the movie skates on some issues (and though it is specific to the New York Times, it tries to use the Times as a metaphor for what's going on in the larger writing world), it raises just enough of them to provoke much-needed thought and discussion for the tuned-in viewer.  The most important area that the film breezes through is the fact that it isn't just a decline in money that's caused the problem at many papers.  As with the federal budget, there is definitely a revenue problem -- but there's also a priority problem, too.

I can personally name several top-level industry trades and papers who went on Flint Michigan-like downsizing kicks in 2008-10 -- sending respected writers with 15, 20, 25 years experience into the dog ditch along with young ones starting out -- only to spend literally millions of dollars on getting a few "name" editors the very next year. And as chilling as this is for the practice of journalism, from a Management 101 viewpoint, it may not necessarily be wrong.

Having a superstar editor, dripping with bling in her company Jaguar or Mercedes, may cost the same in salary as 8 or 10 hard-working, no-name writers and journos actually covering stories, checking facts, and generating content 24-7. (By contrast, the "Krystle Carrington" editor might actually do next to nothing writing- or copy-editing wise.)  But she WILL go to all the right cocktail parties and openings in New York, Washington, Beverly Hills, and Brentwood.  She'll be a buzzy one-person PR "rebranding" of a borderline company.  She will ease the fears of advertising execs and bailout-era banks and boards ("Well, this place must have a bright future, or they couldn't have afforded her in the first place!")  In many magazines and newspapers, symbolism has begun trumping substance on a level to warm Karl Rove and Bill Clinton's hearts.

It's also no news to reveal, as Page One does, that after OJ, Monica, Jon-Benet, and Robert Blake, the line that once separated "serious" news from tabloid throwaway has all but disappeared even at many prestige venues.  What Page One underlines is that this crudity represents a paradigm shift in how news is delivered -- and who delivers it.  In the past, Punch Sulzberger, Katharine Graham, Otis Chandler, and Walter Cronkite told us which stories were the "important" ones; they set the agenda.  Today, Google, Yahoo, and AOL tell newspapers and magazines what stories and topics they need to cover in order to generate traffic.  And that means if Kim Kardashian, Snooki, Lady Gaga, and The Bachelor are "trending" higher than Eric Cantor and Tim Geithner, guess who's likely to get the electronic ink?  (Can we say "Casey Anthony trial," anyone?)

Today, making the "hit count" nut isn't just an issue.  To downsizing-traumatized line editors -- even at many "serious" venues -- it's become the main issue.  Now imagine what this means for really serious, world stories.  It may frighten you as much as the budget default.

Against this frightful backdrop, the movie's climax comes as the Times' closest competitors for "papers of record" meet their doom.  The Post-Newsweek company skates on the thin ice of bankruptcy, Newsweek going into receivership and The Washington Post brutally downsizing.  And the Tribune Company, parents of The Los Angeles Times and The Chicago Tribune (as well as several other papers and the legendary TV "superstations" KTLA-Los Angeles and WGN-Chicago) is forced to file for reorganization.  The Tribune story is especially sordid, replete with an Enron/Halliburton level of cynical cronyism and looting, courtesy of its former CEO Sam Zell -- a radio man who had little experience in print, who is seen telling outside reporters to "f*ck off" and calling them "p*ssies", and openly suggesting carrying ads for porn. (The Boogie Nights atmosphere evidently carried over into the workplace, with allegations of rampant harassment and even employees having sex with editors right in the office.)

After spending most of the film "vaporizing" people who criticized Old Media newspapers and network news in favor of the brave new world of aggregation sites and Twitter/Facebook "citizen journalism", even the tough-as-nails David Carr seems appalled and shaken by the Tribune and Post horrors.  And that's the most dangerous story on Page One of all.  After all of the above, is it any wonder why people from Arianna Huffington and Markos Moulitsas to Palin and Bachmann hold the old-time news media in utter contempt?  If this isn't "lame-stream" behavior, what is?  A free and vibrant press is an absolute must for a democracy, and must and should be defended absolutely.  But can there BE any defense of these kinds of travesties (let alone of the even more nauseous abuses that went on at News of the World?)  Of the misplaced priorities, the insular arrogance?  Is there any place left today for news venues that simply report what the news is -- instead of the Glenn Becks and Keith Olbermanns, who tell you what to think,too?

For all the dusty dignity and tarnished-armor courage of people like Bill Keller and David Carr, Page One never really answers how we can defend the media as it struggles to exist today -- without inadvertently defending the abuses and abusers too.  Or the even more important question, the main question:  whether or not there IS a future for News Reporting 1.0.  And maybe it can't explain or answer that.  But the point of Page One is that we as a people had better answer that question.  And we'd better do it soon -- before it's too late.