Pulp friction: Why only British journalists ask hard questions of celebrities

Pulp friction: Why only British journalists ask hard questions of celebrities

Covering the Cannes film festival probably isn’t what you’d call a tough job.

But when the Mirror sent me to do it in 1995, it turned out to be tougher than trying to work out which part of the average film star’s face had not been attacked by a scalpel.

The reason being that coming from a British tabloid I was barred from virtually every interview by Hollywood publicists.

After the fifth rejection (it was with an actor so wooden he probably now plays a bench in an LA park) I pinned a PR man against a wall and ­demanded to know what was going on.

“You Brits always go for the jugular and these actors don’t need your awkward questions. It upsets them.”

In other words, other ­nationalities will ask actors how they “managed to capture their ­character’s essence so profoundly” while us Brits want to know how they managed to avoid being sent down for their recent shoplifting/drug-taking/wife-beating/gun-using/Jew-baiting episod e.

I was reminded of that ­confrontation watching Channel 4’s Krishnan Guru-Murthy ­repeatedly ask Quentin Tarantino’s opinion on whether there is a link between his remorselessly violent films and America’s mass ­shootings.

Tarantino waved the ­questions away, claiming he was only speaking to him to sell his latest film, but Guru-Murthy kept coming back to the ­relevant and topical issue, until the enraged film-maker yelled: “I’m shutting your butt down.”

But still the Brit wouldn’t stop, and the hard-man looked rattled and somewhat small.

Piers Morgan did the same with maniacal shock jock Alex Jones, who was so affronted by his ­questioning of America’s gun laws he screamed over the Brit ­interrogator’s every question, ­reminding him that his fellow arms-bearers want him deported from the USA.

As the ex-Mirror man kept ­chipping away, Jones turned into a tragic panto figure whose only answer was to scream abuse in a Dick Van Dyke accent.

It was a ritual humiliation which no doubt made many Americans see the insanity inside the ­gun-lover’s head.

 If you haven’t seen either grilling, both are on this page. Not only will they make you laugh and squirm, they should also make you proud of British journalism.

Even though Morgan and ­Guru-Murthy were only staying true to the interview technique most British reporters have ­hammered into them: “If a reader (or viewer) was in my place what questions would they want ­answered?”

We may not realise it, but we are lucky to have ­journalists who refuse to give the rich and powerful an easy ride.

 

Journalists who, by ­comparison, make most other ­nationalities look like fawning patsies.

Over the years I’ve seen foreign politicians, ­sportsmen and actors ­visibly stunned at the ­directness and ­perseverance of British journalists.

Look at the way FIFA, the IOC, MEPs and US ­Republicans detest us.

Watch the easy ride the scheming drugs cheat Lance ­Armstrong is given by Oprah Winfrey.

It’s why, for all our faults, the British media holds those in ­power to account more stringently than in any other country.

Why, as we debate the proposals of the Leveson Report, many ­powerful people want our journalists neutered by law.

Why the Hugh Grants of this world want ­Parliament to do a Tarantino, and shut our butts down.

Because, like those Hollywood publicists, they don’t believe we have any right to go for the jugular and ask the awkward questions.

Do you?

A drain on our health service

I ’VE been told on two occasions my family had grounds to sue the NHS for negligence.

I never even considered it as the errors were down to staff pressures, the effects irreversible and I would only be suing myself.

Because the NHS belongs to me. So how ­depressing to see that compo claims against the NHS are up £300million last year to £1.2billion, diverting scant funds into lawyers’ pockets, thus making future errors, and thus claims, more likely.

It is a vicious, heartbreaking circle which probably hastens the ­privatisation of our greatest ­institution.

And when it is privatised no doubt the ambulance-chasers will be the first to whinge about the cost and the queues.

Good luck with making your claims then.

Pensions look Parky

NEWS that today’s kids will be the ­long-term losers in the pensions ­shake-up isn’t surprising. If I were young I wouldn’t even think about a pension.

Because the chances are, if y ou ­eventually make it to retirement age, somewhere in your 80s, a ­cryogenically-preserved Michael Parkinson will pop up on your iPad2070 to announce there’s no money left in the pension pot but you do get the choice of a free Parker pen or digital radio.

Not a Lotto in it

A MYSTERY Premier League footballer is ­under fire for winning £125,942 on the Lottery then demanding ­­no publicity. Oh come on?

Who among us hasn’t found a tenner in a laundry basket full of their partner’s clothes and said nothing?

Meaning the only difference is six bottles of Dom Perignon, an evening on the casino tables, a cordon bleu meal and a night of passion with a top-class hooker in a presidential hotel suite for him.

And three pints of lager and a packet of crisps for you.

Deal with it.

Snow way to go

IT’S such an education ­watching Britain react to snow.

Those AA spokesmen ­announcing: “If rain comes in tonight I’ m afraid that could make the snow turn to slush” (really, I thought it would turn it to rice pudding).

The NHS website ­advising us: “Draw your curtains, keep your doors closed, turn the heating up and wear several l­ayers of clothes” (and there I was, ­planning to try out my new thong on the patio).

Best of all the TV ­weather readers: “Don’t leave the house unless you really need to” (what other reason would there be for going out when it’s -3?) and, my favourite: “If you’re ­driving don’t forget to take a blanket and a flask.”

Well, I will actually. Because I’d rather get hypothermia than be found dead clutching a flask of tea and a blanket, like an OAP returning from a trip to Last of The Summer Wine country.

Scrub that.

I’d rather be found hanging from a light fixture, in fishnets, with a satsuma in my mouth.

Kate's baby shower

I HOPE that, like me, you’ve got your fingers crossed that July’s royal baby arrives on the 15th.

As that’s St Swithin’s Day. Meaning it will reign for only 40 days.