Page One: Inside the New York Times'
Friday, 1 July 2011
Page One: Inside the New York Times': Page One: Inside the New York Times'
Page One: Inside the New York Times': Page One: Inside the New York Times': "Page One: Inside the New York Times ': Does the notion of a documentary about a 160-year-old newspaper seem coma-inducing? Then think of '..."
Page One: Inside the New York Times'
Carr unpacked this mess in a blockbuster 2010 article, one venerable media giant calling another to account in a manner that no squadron of bloggers could hope to copy.How the Times achieves such reporting, while adapting to a perilous new world of declining circulation, layoffs and new digital life forms, is the story of "Page One." Director Andrew Rossi doesn't fulfill the year-in-the life promise his subtitle implies. The film's attention is whipsawed endlessly by breaking news developments. Boomeranging back to the media desk provides the film what little focus it has.
Carr, ever the loyal Timesman, doesn't subject his employer to the same brand of unsparing prosecutorial analysis that he trains on outside subjects. "Page One" feels overgenerous to a paper that is vital to our national discourse, but as flawed as any institution. No one pins down the editors who dither over the ethical tangles created when the Times coordinates its coverage with Wikileaks freebooters. No one questions former Times Executive Editor Bill Keller's mealy mouthed platitudes about the Times' draconian newroom cutbacks. You may feel the urge to grab the elegantly attired desk jockey by his $400 tie and hang him from the nearest lamppost.
The film works best when it sticks close to its star, whose bestselling memoir "The Night of the Gun" chronicles Carr's lost years as a self-described "violent, drug-snorting thug." At a broadcast debate on the merits of mainstream journalism, Carr holds up a printout of the website Newser that resembles a curtain full of holes; he cut out every story the online site had leeched from the "old media." When critics cite the Times' scandalous missteps - from Judith Miller's fake stories concerning nonexistent Iraqi WMDs to Jayson Blair's serial fabrications - Carr counterpunches with immaculately reasoned defenses of the paper's ambitious, expensive journalism.
Some might call Carr's disdain imperious. I call it delicious. (Disclosure: As reporters with Minneapolis roots, Carr and I share old friends and professional associations, but he has never bought me a beer.) Rossi tags along on Carr's return trips to Minneapolis, where he recounts his drug bust inside the Skyway Lounge strip club, and gives a profane pep talk to the dispirited members of the Minnesota Magazine Publishers Association. Carr becomes the film's central metaphor, a battered but unbowed survivor who has remade himself time and again, usually for the better. If the newspaper industry needs a role model for its own painful metamorphosis, it could hardly choose a better example than Carr.
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