Journalism with a Red Carpet slap!

The red carpet was laid down, the tele-prompter was packed with witty questions and all the limos lined up in front of Beverly Hills Hilton. It was glamorous, it was superficial and it managed to somehow glue the entire world in front of their television sets.

The award season began with a bang. But what’s interesting is that these awards are never really about the awards. They are about who is wearing what. Who had better hair and who wore the most expensive jewels. The frocks, tux, oompa-loompa tan, false lashes and hair extensions – it’s all about the external look. Obviously, the blokes don’t have to worry as much as the ladies. Say they were to repeat a suit they wore to the Academy Awards last year, they’d still be excused by the Fashion Police. But if a female actor was to commit the said fashion crime – she’d probably go to jail for it. The ladies have to look impeccable from every angle. Pretty sure the spandex sale in LA goes out of control during this time of the year (and consequently the sale of food reduces). On events like these, social networking sites usually burst out with “frock fest”, “hair trend alert” and “malfunction watch” updates. Every girl drools over her favourite gown and wishes that she was the one strutting down the red carpet instead.

Personally there is something about red carpet events that makes me cringe. It’s the red carpet reporting. Not only is it full of bullshit, but lacks every ingredient of “interviewing” and “reporting”. Asking questions like “what did you eat this morning” and “what time did you start getting ready for the event” is not reporting. It’s not even close to what entertainment journalism should be. It is trashy journalism. All those reporters on the red carpet are dolled up in their favourite designer’s outfits and really, they are not concerned about the movies or the nominations. They are concerned about whose tweets are getting the maximum retweets. They want to know actors’ marital status, their sexual partner’s name, their fitness regime and their underwear brand (I’m not even kidding about this one). These tight-smiled-jaw-clenching celebrities should be promoting their projects while keeping the journalist out of their private lives. But inversely, they are bombarded with silly questions that they tactfully ignore and make the entire interviewing process rather delightful to watch. In most cases, it’s painful to watch.

There was a time when I used to watch Ryan Seacrest and Giuliana Rancic on TV and admire their jobs. I aspired to be in their shoes and rub shoulders with all the glamourous faces in Hollywood. But ever since Justin Beiber took center stage, my dream crashed. But that’s another story. The meaning of entertainment reporting has changed. It’s not just a red carpet inundated with camera flashes and sexy backs. It is a place where celebrities are expected to make fart noises on camera and journalists are expected to burn their professional careers.

IMAGE CREDIT: Getty Images

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