. . . on how the media and EastEnders went local and loco over Jacko.

It has already been suggested in certain quarters that Michael Jackson’s death belongs in the category of “you-will-remember-where-you-were-when-you-found-out” events. I, like a lot of people, found out in the way I find out everything of importance: by sitting at my computer and being bombarded with the news from 80 directions at once. I’m pretty sure I’ll remember that.

The newsgathering media are an unstoppable machine now, and their increasing sophistication has taken some of the fun out of the idea of “breaking stories”. The dramatic interruptions to TV schedules for news of JFK’s assassination, or even the bleary-eyed early-morning bulletins which told us about the death of Diana, seem quaint now. The dissemination of information has become mercilessly quick and efficient. These days, as you’re pulling the trigger to carry out an assassination, it’s considered polite to use the other hand to update your Twitter status accordingly, ideally including a link to a photograph.

Still, the papers fought boldly to find their own unique angles on a subject that had been exhausted by the world media within minutes of its inception. Perhaps the boldest of all – and most absurd – was the Evening Standard headline: “Jackson family blames London”. The story was actually that rehearsing for his long run of British shows might have placed a fatal strain on the frail singer. But this headline conjured the much more sensational prospect of us, the people of London, being held personally responsible for the events. I hardly dared answer the door in the days after his death in case it was a bunch of heavies demanding to know if any of my friends had tickets for the O2 shows. It was a great example of the lengths journalists will go to give “local relevance” to what is quite clearly a global news story. Somewhere in Ulan Bator there’s probably a newspaper with the headline: “Singer, who never visited Mongolia, dies”.

But the repercussions of the death continued to be felt in London as the producers of EastEnders interrupted the worldwide outpouring of emotion to announce that they would be writing a special scene in which characters discussed the news. The show’s executive producer, Diederick Santer, perceptively explained that “there are some news stories which get everyone talking, and this is one of them”. Santer added that he “hoped it would reflect to some extent the impact Michael Jackson’s death had had”. You might have thought that the event had already been adequately dealt with, given its top billing in every news bulletin in every country of the world for 48 hours straight, but if not, don’t panic: EastEnders is on the case. At the time of writing, the state-of-the-nation scene had not yet been aired, but we could only imagine the high-level script meetings that took place beforehand, the “brainstorming” and the eventual creative decisions.

“What about if Denise said, ‘Blimey, Michael Jackson’s dead!’ and Patrick replied, ‘Is he really?! Bloody hell! I was going to go to them concerts he was doin’!’”
“Hmm, I like it. Can you go away and write that up?”
I only hope it was as powerful as when a couple of characters in Albert Square were seen discussing Obama’s election victory back in November. Without that scene, I’m not sure I would ever have got to grips with the importance of the presidential contest.

It emerged during the weekend’s scramble of Jackson trivia that the troubled star (as he was frequently referred to: see also “controversial singer”, “reclusive King of Pop” and “genius-turned-alleged-child-molester”) apparently employed a so-called sober coach, who would follow him 24 hours a day curbing his worst excesses. A quick trawl of the internet shows that this is quite an advanced industry. Mysobercoach.com offers “phone support 24 hours a day, five days a week”, leaving a handy window for getting hammered at the weekend. Soberchampion.com offers “a companion who spends incredible amounts of time with you”, a somewhat sinister promise, but maybe an effective one: you’d be cured of most addictions by someone popping up in the shower and snatching the shampoo bottle out of your hands (“Do you mind if I just check what’s in here?”). Soberescorts.com provides people to go with you to and from detox sessions. And so on.

The idea of a “coach” accompanying you through life and passing comment upon your every decision, although at first glance rather alarming, is also somehow comforting. For those who stopped believing in God a while ago, but still secretly yearn to be told what to do, it sounds ideal. The problem for me is that I’ve pretty much got alcoholism under control for now. I wish there were “coaching services” available in trickier areas of life. I could really do with a “cashpoint coach” who would follow me to ATMs and repeat over and over again: “Do not leave your card in the machine. Do not leave your card in the machine.” Or a “punctuality companion” who, an hour before important meetings, would come into my study and drag me violently away from the computer. “Come on. You never leave quite enough time to get anywhere. I’m doing this for your own good. Also, the Victoria Line is part-suspended today.”

The one thing about which most Jackson commentators were unanimous was his remarkable talent, and the timelessness of many of his classic songs. Unfortunately, radio stations across the country underlined this point by playing the songs over and over and over again throughout the weekend. There can’t be many pop fans who don’t love “Billie Jean” or “Beat It”, but nothing quite diminishes the magic of a great tune more than having it in your ears morning, noon and night. My appreciation of Johnny Cash is only just recovering from the Cash-onslaught that followed his death in 2003.

Still, this sensory overkill is probably what Jackson would have wanted. In death as in life, the story is all about excess.

Visit http://markwatsonthecomedian.com
Peter Wilby returns next week

Post your comment

Please note: you will need to login or register before you can comment on the website