Jessy Matador is Oslo-bound for France

It's official.

This year's French entry at the annual musical jamboree, the Eurovision Song Contest, will be sung by Jessy Matador.

Who?

You might well ask!

Probably unknown to many in this country, the choice was immediately seen by those "in the know" as a sure-fire way of France not winning the annual music shindig.

Instead it's apparently a clever marketing ploy to create a buzz for Matador and France Television ahead of the World Cup finals in South Africa.

Confused? Then read on.



First up though, for those of you out there who haven't got a clue what the Eurovision Song Contest is, here's the very briefest of summaries.

It's an annual competition which many music aficionados dread but the viewing public seems to love (to hate perhaps).

It began back in 1956 when just seven countries entered and has under the auspices of the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) grown and become something of an institution with millions tuning in to watch the very best and worst of what Europe has to offer - musically speaking.

This year it'll be coming from Oslo as Norway won the competition last time around and with it the honours to play host.

If you're really intent on finding out more about it, here's a more exhaustive (exhausting?) explanation.

So back to France and the decision to send a relative unknown - even within this country - to Oslo.

There is apparently more at stake than winning Eurovision, at least as far as France Television is concerned according to Gaëlle Placek, a journalist for the weekly television and entertainment magazine, Télé Loisirs.

http://www.jeanmarcmorandini.com/article-36150-exclu-eurovision-jessy-matador-pour-representer-la-france.html

She insists that the decision is a mainly commercial one, with any tune Matador might sing standing little chance of winning and instead France Television banking on promoting the song to become its summer hit.

Such thinking doesn't require the leap of imagination as might at first appear.

Matador, who originally comes from the Democratic Republic of Congo, has a style of music that combines African and Caribbean influences and has already had a summer hit ("Décalé Gwada") in this country.

Just as importantly the Eurovision Song Contest takes place just a couple of weeks before the guaranteed money-spinning (for television stations among others) World Cup kicks off In South Africa.




And of course France Television will be one of the channels broadcasting matches throughout the competition.

Indeed the whole theory of a marketing ploy seemed to be more or less confirmed by Nicolas Pernikoff, the head of entertainment for France Television, in revealing the choice of Matador to represent the country in Oslo.

He said that the singer would be going into the studio shortly to record the French entry and that it would also serve as the summer hit for France 2 television.

Some French fans of Eurovision - yes apparently they do exist - might be upset that a more popular artist hasn't been chosen to represent France, and that the move goes against the spirit of the contest.

After all along with Germany, the United Kingdom and Spain, France is one of the so-called Big Four, financial contributors without which the contest would have difficulty being staged.

But since last winning Eurovision back in 1977 with Marie Myriam's "L'oiseau Et L'enfant", France has had a pretty dismal record.

Not even the presence in Moscow last year of a big gun in the form of Patricia Kaas could guarantee the country victory. She managed a disappointing eighth place.

So perhaps the choice of Matador makes sound business sense, spares (French) viewers the seemingly interminable process of choosing a representative favoured by many other countries such as Germany, which is currently holding a weekly televised knock-out show of Eurovision wannabees warbling their hearts out in "Unser Star für Oslo".

And it cuts down on the suspense at the end of May when the whole Eurovision delight hits French TV screens for several hours as nobody here will really expect France to win anyway.

French reality TV's dubious standards

As some of you might be aware, there's a very Secret Story making its daily appearance on television screens here in France at the moment.

Or the "house of deceit" as one particular contestant perhaps more accurately described it a few weeks ago.

Just as a reminder, it's in essence the French answer to Big Brother - only more downmarket.

Impossible you might think, but sadly true.

If you're really interested, you can read more about it here.

For the moment though, put aside whatever judgements you might have as to the quality and value of the programme, and what the high ratings say about the television viewing habits of the French public over the summer.

Instead let's look at just how the production team deals with personal issues and in particular family tragedies that might occur during the period in which candidates are effectively cut off from the real world.

It surely says a great deal about what reality TV programme makers now apparently consider to be acceptable.

During an interview this week with the Internet entertainment site Purepeople.com, the programme's artistic director (yes there really is such a person) Angélique Sansonetti, revealed that although there was a strict rule about candidates having no contact with the outside world during their time in the house, exceptions were, and had been made.

She told the site that the production team had received a call from the mother of one of the candidates at the end of July informing them that there had been a death in the family - that of his grandfather, to whom he was reportedly very close.

"I took the call and immediately asked the candidate to come to the 'phone so that he could talk to his mother," said Sansonetti, who went on to describe what any responsible production team would do under the circumstances; calling on the services of a psychologist who works on the show and allowing the candidate to attend his grandfather's funeral accompanied all the time by a member of the production team "to ensure that none of the rules of the game were broken."

None of the other participants in Secret Story were told what had happened.

The compassion shown towards the 21-year-old candidate didn't end there though.

He was given the choice of leaving the game permanently or returning to the house after the funeral.

"It was his decision to remain in show," said Sansonetti.

"He thought it would be easier to deal with being surrounded by people who weren't aware of what had happened," she continued.

"We respected his choice and that of his family. There was never any question of creating media hype over what had happened. That simply goes against our principles."

Ah so the production team not only has an expert on hand in the form of a psychologist able to help and advise a young man through the grieving process, it also has principles.

Presumably exactly the same principles that have ensured that another of the candidates, a 32-year-old woman, has had little or no contact with her eight-year-old daughter ever since the "adventure" began back at the end of June.

But that of course is another story.

Vive reality TV!

French television's not so "Secret Story"

It's not hard to tell that summer has arrived here in France; all the signs are pointing to the fact. Some of them obvious, others less so.

First up of course there's the date - a dead giveaway although the weather is still trying to make up its mind as to which season it is.

Then of course there's the dress code, which can still be something of a concern for fashion-conscious Parisians as shorts and simplicity threaten to replace chic and sophisticated.

There are the music festivals - including La Fête de la musique (World music day) on June 21, inaugurated in 1982 by the then culture minister Jack Long, and now very much a tradition up and down the country.

Other tell-tale signs include prime time television news reports focussing on the queues at airports and the number of passengers passing through the French capital's major railway stations, rather than hard news.

The inside lanes of the motorways start filling up with bumper-to-bumper traffic including more than their fair share of Dutch cars, trailers and caravans, busting at the seams with provisions for a month.

But the real clue that the whole shebang is underway has to be the reappearance on the small screen of "Secret Story".

It reared its less-than-attractive head on Friday evening on the country’s number one national channel, TF1, and is set to be in everyone's sitting rooms for the next couple of months.

In essence it's France's answer to Big Brother - only more downmarket. Impossible you might think, but sadly true.

Basically the idea is very simple. It starts with 18 people, strangers to each other - with the odd exception, as will become clearer later on - moving into a built-for-TV house, where they'll be under the watchful eye of the production team and the viewing public.

Each carries with them into the house a "secret" - and the idea is to keep it hidden from the others for as long as possible while trying to cajole out of fellow house mates exactly what they're trying to keep under wraps.

Off camera there is also the deep bass booming tones of The Voice (La Voix), dropping hints whenever he feels like it, setting playful if somewhat idiotic tasks with cash rewards should they be completed successfully without anyone else in the house realising.

Every week two candidates are nominated and television viewers get to vote in a ‘phone poll (at premium rates of course) on who should stay in. Original stuff huh?

Yes the country which so often likes to think that it has taken the cultural highroad, brought the world classics in the fields of literature, art and music, prides itself on its language and traditions, cuisine, fine wines and haute couture - now proves once again that it can mix it with the best and worst of what the world of reality TV has to offer.

The new series, which kicked off on Friday evening, introduced yet another bevy of brainless beauties and beefcake, each seemingly desperate for their "15 minutes of fame" and probably more than likely to do anything over the coming weeks to make sure they're remembered.

Should you feel so inclined, you can read about some of their real identities and secrets here (in English) and of course discover more on all 18 of them (in French) by surfing the Net (here's where to start perhaps).

As compulsive and trashy as Secret Story might be it'll still more than likely pull in the viewers and become its own story in itself as the nation tut-tuts and hisses in disapproval and indignation at the antics of the previous night's revelations.

Oh well. In the indomitable words of La Voix “C’est tout pour le moment."

Secret Story - this year's "hall of fame"

After last year's dubious dollop of "culture" introduced to the French public amongst others a lesbian couple from Belgium (who started off the series intending to get married, but ended up going their separate ways), a black mother and her white daughter, an Anglican minister, an undertaker and a teenage father, a Don Juan with more than 750 "conquests" and such similar secrets, the production team this year has stepped up a gear to ensure maximum in-fighting and hopefully high ratings.

Among those who will be gracing French sitting rooms over the next couple of months with their presence are the following.

Probably the best known housemate (at least in this country) is Rachel Legrain Trapani. She was Miss France in 2006 and has agreed to "dress down" and play the part of Rosa, a student.

Unfortunately for her (and the programme makers), the other contestants quickly noted the slightly-more-than-striking resemblance to her real self (now there's a surprise), and her secret looks sure to be the first to be revealed.

More alter egos are on supply in the shape of Louise and her husband Didier from the Indian Ocean island of La Réunion. They've entered the house together with their trusted friend "Alicia" - in reality Didier, who likes to dress up in women's clothing.

To guarantee harmony and calm within the house there's, Emilie from the northern French city of Lille, along with her "best friend" Vanessa. The two 21-year-olds probably have a few scores to settle as apparently (their secret) the latter tried to pinch the former's boyfriend

Vancouver native, Maya, who only eats fruit and vegetables and lives in a bus (perhaps there's a link- and apparently is more than happy with her lifestyle. The 29-year-old sounds as though she could be a bundle of laughs.

Beauty and beefcake in one - well at least as far as he's concerned - are supplied by 21-year-old Kevin who says of himself, "I know that I'm good-looking and I could be the son of Brad Pitt." Nothing like false modesty there then....and that's nothing like false modesty.

Bumping up the average age of the candidates by more than a few years (by now you'll have noticed how young most of them are and could therefore be forgiven for agreeing to take part in such a show in the first place) is 53-year-old Elisabeth Fanger.

At long last someone who has lived long enough to have perhaps a secret worth keeping.

Her story dates back to 1974, when as an 18-year-old student she met an fell in love with Sid Mohamed Badaoui.

In February the following year Badaoui held up a bank in Paris, but things didn't go quite to plan and there was a hostage stand-off during which one of the cashiers and a robber were killed, and it was Fanger (then known as Lili), who first hid him in her family home and then fled the country with him.

And so began life on the run, with Fanger "tracked by Interpol" eventually returning to France to face charges and being found guilty of aiding and abetting fugitives. She was sentenced but received a pardon, and then did what anyone would do under the circumstances - wrote an autobiography, which in 2004 was made into a film "À tout de suite" (Right Now).

A colourful past by anyone's assessment, and one, which given the average age of most of the other housemates, will more than likely remain a secret from them for a pretty long time - unless they're given copious clues by the production team.

Finally, just in case your appetite hasn't already been sufficiently whetted, here are some of the other not-so-closely-guarded secrets, as far as the viewing public is concerned.

There's a millionaire in the house, someone who has decided to remain a virgin, a "genius" (presumably there's evidence to back that up), a survivor of the 2004 tsunami, a former mistress of a Ballon d'Or (European football of the year) winner, and of course the "mystery candidate" who has yet to enter the house.

The show will doubtless have the same sort of petty rivalries, squabbles and handbags-at-dawn stuff that characterised much of the previous two series. Indeed, that's exactly what it thrives on.

But breathe a sigh of relief because at least it’s all being done in the name of entertainment. And as much as some might question why and find it “outrageous”, there’ll probably still be millions tuning in.

Let’s also not forget there’s always the “off” button on the TV set or alternative viewing on other channels.

Do you believe Belgian teen's tattoo tale?

Kimberley Vlaeminck's story has been making its way around the world.

You might have caught a snippet of it in one of those "And here's a curious thing" segments at the end of a news broadcast.

Or perhaps you read about it here.

In case you're unfamiliar with the tale, Vlaeminck is the Belgian teenager, who last weekend , popped along to the local tattoo local parlour to have three little stars tattooed on her face and ended up with 56.

The 18-year old claims she fell asleep while the tattoo artist, Rouslan Toumaniantz, got on with the job and when she woke up she was horrified to find the left side of her face covered in 53 more tattoos than she had bargained for.

Anyway, as the story has made its way around the globe, there have been a fair few doubts cast on the veracity of Vlaeminck's version of events, with the often repeated question being how could she possibly have dropped off while having her face tattooed.

Disbelief is how many have reacted to the story including, as you'll clearly see from the accompanying clip, that of the French television presenter, Marina Carrère.

She's one of the hosts on the daily health magazine, Magazine de la santé, broadcast live on national television each on France 5.

On Wednesday, Carrère, along with co-host Michel Cymes, was giving a round-up of the latest health news stories and of course the case of Vlaeminck and her 56 tattoos.

Perhaps its a reaction that best sums up what many people think of the whole story.

Oh, and don't worry. You don't need to speak a word of French to understand what's going on.

It's one of those classic moments of television.

France has a "Nouvelle Star" - really?

Soan Faya must be pinching himself this morning.

The 28-year-old is France's "Nouvelle Star" (Pop Idol) after winning the final in the traditional televised head-to-head on Tuesday evening.

It was the climax to a programme which started with 25,000 hopefuls attending auditions and ended with Soan (pronounced Swarn), the former busker, beating the 18-year-old Leïla to clinch a recording contract with one of this country's major labels.

This year's final - a dismal affair - attracted only 3.8 million viewers, down from four million last year.

But that hasn't stopped the private channel M6 from announcing plans for a 2010 edition.

Ah - la Nouvelle Star - a long and often, for the viewer, tortuous journey through the supposed landscape of fresh French musical talent.

A word or two maybe on how the show functions.

Even though the Pop Idol format is a familiar one to many television viewers around the world, the French version has its own peculiarities.

For starters of course, the repertoire of songs from which the contestants have to choose is on the whole based on French "standards".

It makes sense really as it means that most viewers are at least familiar with many of the tunes each singer is taking a stab at "making their own".

There are also a fair number of attempts at interpreting popular English language songs, but more often than not the results are less than convincing (and that's putting it politely).

What perhaps doesn't make sense though is the system of voting, which opens immediately the show starts, and thus isn't really a judgement on the performances, but from the outset a popularity contest based on....well who knows?

In any case, one thing's for sure, it's not necessarily on musical talent.

This year was the seventh edition of la Nouvelle Star, and it has in the past thrown up some real surprises and introduced some singers who would probably have made it anyway, but were given the extra push by appearing on the show.

Amel Bent (season two, third place), Christophe Willem (season four, winner) and Julian Doré (season five, winner) have all been successful in the French-speaking world, and probably have the talent, voices and following to stick around for a while longer.

But many of the past winners, such as Jonatan Cerrada (season one), Steeve Estatof (season two) and Myriam Abel (season three, winner) after the initial "15 minutes of fame" seem to have slipped into relative obscurity, or at least haven't exactly taken the music world by storm.

The show of course has a jury of four "heavyweights" (a serious clearing of the throat) from the music industry.

The longest-serving member is André Manoukian, a jazz songwriter who has been with the programme since it started and makes rather wild and off the wall statements.

His most famous this year came after being subjected to one performance which he described as being evidence that there has been "An ETC - un erreur terrible de casting"

Then there's Lio, (real name Wanda Maria Ribeiro Furtado Tavares de Vasconcelos), a Belgian singer of Portuguese origin who had several (forgettable) hits in France in the 1980s.

Philippe Manœuvre spent the series hidden behind his trademark sunglasses and bringing yonks of experience as a rock journalist to the show.

Finally there was Sinclair (real name Mathieu Blanc-Francard) who is another singer-songwriter although most French would probably be hard pushed to name one of his hits.

Their initial task was to hold auditions up and down France for hopefuls from this country (of course) as well as Switzerland, Belgium and Canada, before whittling the choice down to the final 15.

There then followed the seemingly interminable and, often for the viewer, painful rigmarole of live weekly televised broadcasts as the finalists took to the stage.

The first show of the season, back in April, saw the voting public choose nine contestants to go through to the second round, with the jury picking one of the remaining six to join them.

After that of course the judges had a purely advisory role, assessing each performance, squabbling among themselves and generally putting on a show that at times was far more entertaining than that offered by those hoping to become la Nouvelle Star.

You know the score. It's not exactly original TV.

So back to this year's winner, Soan. A singer who, over the past couple of months has apparently built up enough of a following in spite of often forgetting the lyrics.

In fact "not singing" the whole song became something of a trademark as he relied on the admittedly excellent musicians to help him through each show.

So what exactly did he have going for him that has made him la Nouvelle Star?

It certainly can't have been his voice - one which sounded like something in between a groan and a shout as week in, week out he monotonously but relentlessly warbled his way to victory.

Well maybe it was the innovative use of far too much make-up as, eyes heavily blackened, he glared into the camera.

Or perhaps it was the Gothic garb he wore, including his "favourite dress" and Doc Marten type boots that wowed the viewers.

There again it could have been his successful attempts to ruin Edith Piaf's "L'accordéoniste", ridiculously "punk up" France Gall's "Poupée de cire, poupée de son," or attack Georges Brassens' "La mauvaise réputation".

Oh but wait, there was also the non-too original rendition of the Sid Vicious version of "My way", The Cure's "Boys don't cry", and U2's "One"...and many, far too many, dated and clichéd interpretations of songs in both English and French that left the viewer wanting "more".

Whatever the case, Soan is la Nouvelle Star, and next up is the real test as to whether he's able to come up with an album that anyone actually wants to buy.

Even (especially) journalists can get it very wrong

"Check your sources" is surely something the French journalist Florence Schaal must have wished she had done before making the headlines for all the wrong reasons last month here in France.

It happened when she reported the death of a two-year-old boy on August 8, who had been the subject of a police search since he had gone missing a day earlier in the village of Verclause in Drôme in the south of France.

Towards the end of the prime time news on the country's major private channel, TF1, Schaal reported that he had in fact been found dead.

Except he hadn't. And instead was alive and well, and back with his parents.

TF1 was forced to run a retraction of the story in the programme immediately following the news.

Not surprisingly the mistake had its repercussions. The Conseil supérieur de l'audiovisuel (CSA) the independent regulatory body in France for television and radio (the equivalent to the Federal Communications Commission in the United States) stepped in to tell TF1 off.

And in the meantime the media went into a complete self-absorbed frenzy trying to work out how such an embarrassing error could have been aired - live - on television.

Schaal was after all not an inexperienced journalist - far from it. The 58-year-old had 32 years with TF1 under her belt. She was a seasoned reporter.

According to the weekly news magazine, Le Point, the journalist had based her report on "vague statements from a fireman" who had said, "it's over" and that was enough for Schaal to go on air concluding that the search had ended because the boy had been found dead.

The week immediately following the debacle, the weekly satirical Le Canard enchaîné reported that TF1 was on the point of sacking Schaal, and it didn't take the rest of the French media very long to jump in and start confusing an already muddled story.

There was going to be disciplinary action before a tribunal according to the French daily, Le Figaro. "She could be fired," announced the weekly news magazine Nouvel Observateur, which had in turn based its report on Le Canard enchaîné's.

To its credit, Nouvel Observateur did in fact contact TF1 directly at the time to check out the story, and the channel responded that a disciplinary meeting hadn't yet taken place and no action had been taken.

And so the rumour mill based on little substance and an awful lot of cross-reporting on what had appeared in other newspapers and magazines carried on.

Then last week that public reprimand from the CSA, when TF1 boss Nonce Paolini, and its director of information Jean-Claude Dassier were hauled in for explanations.

The result was not an absolution for Schaal - far from it - but a public taking to task for TF1 and its news output for failing to "comply with the regulation to respect the honesty of the news it put on the channel."

In other words, a telling off for those higher up in the hierarchy.

There had apparently been some sort of technical glitch between TF1's HQ back in Paris and Schaal, who was the special reporter in the area sent to cover the story, so one apparently didn't hear the other, and she was put on air to announce the news "that wasn't" without anyone on the news team having double checked.

In an interview after the CSA's findings Schall told the website of the weekly television magazine, Teleloisirs, that she regretted what had happened but welcomed the pronouncement.

"I'm sad for my channel that it was subjected to a public reprimand from the CSA, "she said.

"But I'm also relieved that the circumstances of what actually happened on August 8 have also now been made public."

While much of the media has continued to chase its tail in an attempt to be report what hadn't happened, some dailies preferred to take a more sober approach and actually only report the story as it unfolded.

Both Libération and Le Monde for example, stayed as true to the facts as possible, just last week reporting on the outcome of the CSA-TF1 meeting, and they are still holding out on the result of Schaal's disciplinary meeting until her bosses make a formal announcement.

Just for the record, Schaal has taken "extended leave" and has met with her bosses and union officials, but a statement has yet to be made about her future by TF1.

Somewhere in all of this there's a lesson, but perhaps none more so than those words "check your sources."

And here's the latest news from France read to you by...

Laurence Ferrari. Who? You might well ask.

Ah well she's the golden girl of French news, the darling of the media here (for the moment) and the not-so-new face at the helm of TF1's flagship prime time news , Le Journal de 20 heures (JT)

Not so new in the sense that she's returning to TF1, France's largest private channel, after a couple of years at rival Canal +.

On Monday 8,3 million French (40.2 per cent of the viewing public) tuned in to watch her as she made her debut. The curiosity factor undoubtedly high as she stepped in to the role so long the almost exclusive property of veteran newscaster, Patrick Poivre d'Arvor, (PPDA).

He made his last broadcast at the beginning of the summer, "resigning" from the channel after 21 years on the job following TF1's decision to replace him with Ferrari.

So how did she do? Was there really anything new that she brought to the broadcast apart from being a fresh face and a woman? Did she live up to the media kerfuffle and hype surrounding her appointment?

Well of course it's early days yet, but that hasn't stopped the press from taking a slightly partisan interest. After all, some would argue there's nothing more any profession likes more than discussing and analysing itself. So why should journalism be any different? And Ferrari has certainly filled more than her fair share of column inches over the past few days.

The website of one weekly news magazine, Le Point, has even gone so far as to promise to follow her progress over the whole of her first week on the job, and has invited readers to share their opinions.

Of course those opinions tend to be very much split, running the whole gamut from saying Ferrari "gabbles" is "too distant" and "lacks humility'" to a "breath of fresh air" and "youthful vigour."

Whatever the case, Ferrari undoubtedly has a hard act to follow as PPDA was something of a national institution here in France and for three decades on one channel or another had been virtually the face and voice of television news.

Part of the reported reason for his dismissal was the gradual drop in ratings over the past year even though hovering around an average share of 35 per cent plus, it was still twice that of its main rival on France 2, the country's public television channel.

TF1 has seen a drop in its general share of the audience across the spectrum, partly because there are a number of new (private) channels that have sprung up.

And when it comes to news, not only does it now find itself competing of course with other sources such as the Net, but there are also three other all-news channels to be taken into account (LCI, BFM and i-Tele).

Add to that the tradition here in France that both TF1 and France 2 have their flagship news broadcasts going head-to-head at 8pm and it's perhaps not surprising that JT has seen a drop in ratings over the past year.

Whatever media pundits might say - and they've been saying plenty - TF1 has hardly taken a gamble with Ferrari. Far from being simply a pretty face to fill the screen, she's also an accomplished and well-respected journalist.

The 41-year-old first joined TF1 in 2000 and for the next six years formed one half of the golden couple of TV news along with her former husband, Thomas Hugues. The pair presented a weekly fast-paced news magazine and were regular holiday stand-ins for the channel’s main news presenters - Ferrari for Claire Chazal at the weekends and Hugues ironically enough for PPDA on weekdays.

In 2006 she jumped ship for Canal +, which gave her less exposure to the public at large but couldn’t have been better timed professionally speaking as it came at the beginning of the campaign for last year’s presidential elections.

Her weekly political programme, “Dimanche”, gave Ferrari the chance to go one-on-one with some of France’s leading figures. And she won accolades for her pugnacity especially with the two main presidential candidates at the time, Nicolas Sarkozy and Ségoléne Royal.

Indeed the chemistry between Ferrari and Sarkozy certainly clicked – if only on a professional level rather than, as falsely rumoured later, the personal one.

The fact that TF1's CEO is Martin Bouygues, a personal friend of Sarkozy, didn't go unnoticed in the press, and there were suggestions from some quarters that more sinister powers were at work when news of Ferrari's appointment broke.

As for how she's really going to fare and what impact she will have, of course it's far too early to reach any solid conclusions. But there's unlikely to be a radical change in the near future - apart from there being a new face popping up in French sitting rooms.

Ferrari herself is quoted as saying that she doesn't want to bring about a radical shake-up in the way things have been done in the past.

"The only objective that TF1 has fixed is to produce a good news programme," she said in interviews before taking over. "I believe in continuity (of the programme) and I would prefer gradual changes rather than a revolution."

And to an extent that's exactly what she delivered. By Tuesday the curiosity factor had worn off somewhat and 7.4 million (38.7 per cent) tuned in for her second broadcast.

Adieu PPDA

There was an end of a television era here yesterday as Patrick Poivre d'Arvor, affectionately known in this country as PPDA, made his final broadcast as anchorman on TF1's prime time news slot.

Think of a news anchor in your own country, someone who has been around for donkeys years and at a certain time of the day when the small screen is flickering becomes almost part of the sitting room furniture.

PPDA has been something of a national institution in France for the past three decades and has quite simply been the face and voice of news, first on public television in 1976 and then from the mid 80s on the nation's main private channel, TF1.

When you turned on the box to tune in at 8.00pm any weekday evening (holidays excepted of course) there he was in his own distinctive, laid back, gentle yet authoritative style, reading what you somehow just knew to be true - even if sometimes it wasn't, such as the fake "exclusive" personal interview with Fidel Castro that had in fact simply been edited material lifted from a press conference.

But recent events have forced 60-year-old PPDA into earlier than expected retirement - at least from what's considered to be the plum job in French television news. And from September he'll be replaced by Laurence Ferrari, who'll be making her return to TF1 after a couple of years honing her not inconsiderable skills on a rival channel.

Millions tuned in for PPDA's last broadcast, which as usual he read with panache, switching from one report to another and then effortlessly and seamlessly arriving at his farewell.

There wasn't a moment's hesitation, no sudden change, no melodramatic difference in tone as PPDA simply quoted Shakespeare by saying there was a time when everyone had to move on and the inevitable could not be avoided.

He thanked viewers for their support throughout the years, his production team and even his (now) former employer TF1

"Thank you for these past two magnificent decades. It has been an honour to be here and to have been able to practise this magical profession," he modestly said.

And then directly to the viewers, "I'm sure we'll see each other soon."

As the credits rolled, the clock went back over the decades to a time when PPDA still had a full head of hair.

There were clips of a much younger PPDA reporting live from Rwanda and more recently from New York after 9/11. Then a whole host of interview partners throughout the years including "spats" with former and current French presidents, Mitterrand, Chirac and Sarkozy. Interviews with other international figures past and present, Mother Theresa, Nelson Mandela, Bill Clinton, Saddam Hussein, Yasser Arafat and many, many more as television did what only television can by summing up a life or a career in less than 30 seconds.

His dignity made one particular viewer feel most humble.


PPDA's farewell

Trash TV's Secret Story - update

You can tell summer has arrived here in France because the signs are all around us.

First up there are the obvious ones - such as the weather and the dress code. Of course the latter, especially in the nation's capital, can still turn into something of a catwalk as this year's chic hits the streets big time in what for many is the Mecca of the fashion world.

Then there are the music festivals, concerts, outdoor productions, and jumble sales held up and down the country and let’s not forget the smell of a BBQ wafting in from the neighbour’s garden.

Prime time television news reports begin focussing on the queues at airports and the number of passengers passing through the French capital's major railway stations, rather than hard news. And national newspapers go in for the inevitable silly season.

The inside lanes of the motorways are bumper-to-bumper full of Dutch cars, trailers and caravans, busting at the seams with provisions for a month.

In August of course, when (hopefully) summer will be in full swing a huge chunk of the country will all but close down for a month and Paris will put up shop almost completely as the French head south literally and metaphorically with “Aoutien” holidaymakers replacing “Juilletistes”.

But the real clue that the whole shebang is underway has to be the reappearance on the small screen of Secret Story.

It reared its less than attractive head on Friday evening on the country’s number one national channel, TF1, and is set to be in everyone's sitting rooms for the next 10 weeks.

In essence it's France's answer to Big Brother - only more downmarket. Impossible you might think, but sadly true.

Basically the idea is very simple. It starts with 15 people, strangers to each other - with the odd exception, as will become clearer later on - moving into a built-for-TV house, where they'll be under the watchful eye of the production team and the viewing public 24/7 (via the Internet of course) for two and a half months.

Each carries with them into the house a "secret" - and the idea is to keep it hidden from the others for as long as possible while trying to cajole out of fellow house mates exactly what they're trying to keep under wraps.

Off camera there is also the deep bass booming tones of The Voice (La Voix), dropping hints whenever he feels like it, setting playful if somewhat idiotic tasks with cash rewards should they be completed successfully without anyone else in the house realising.

Every week two candidates are nominated and television viewers get to vote in a ‘phone poll (at premium rates of course) on who should stay in. Original stuff huh?

Yes the country which so often likes to think that it has taken the cultural highroad, brought the world classics in the fields of literature, art and music, prides itself on its language and traditions, cuisine, fine wines and haute couture - now proves once again that it can mix it with the best and worst of what the world of reality TV has to offer.

The new series, which kicked off on Friday evening will have a hard act to follow.

Last summer, when TF1 first ran the programme, the eventual winner quickly had her secret revealed .She was a triplet – and after the other house members wheedled it out of her, in tramped her two sisters.

Thus the three of them provided viewers with hours of entertainment as they played cards, ate, played cards and slept, eventually being crowned the winners because…. well because they were pretty inoffensive and bland.

Up against them was the nudist, the escort boy, the son of a famous French tennis player (Henri Leconte) a transsexual and an obnoxious couple (their secret) who bickered and manipulated their way to the final, earning their Warhol moment of fame and then (thankfully) disappearing into oblivion.

This year's dollop of dubious “culture” kicked off with the contestants tastefully arriving at the house one by one in his and hers blue and pink limos. Each woman seemingly more buxom than the last, many of them sporting micro dresses of which even pop diva Mariah Carey would have been envious.

And with a few exceptions each man was more muscled, more coiffed and more drop-dead gorgeous than the last, preening and pouting as though they were models in Milan.

Separately they tottered, strutted, swaggered or tripped their way through the jeering and cheering masses into 10-weeks-worth (for the eventual winner) of fleeting public notoriety and a stab at the chance of picking up a €150,000 cheque at the end.

Some of the contestants have had their secrets revealed to the public already – such as the lesbian couple from Belgium, the black mother and white daughter or the 30-something hunk and teenage siren who have to pretend to be “a couple”. But none of the other housemates (apart from those “in” on their own coupled secrets) is any the wiser yet.

Nor do any of the contestants know exactly what secrets they have to find out, although once again viewers have been told that among the 15 there is an Anglican minister (male of female not revealed), an undertaker, a medium (who you would think might just have a head start on the others and know whether he or she would end up winning), a prince or princess and a Don Juan with apparently more than 750 “conquests” under his belt already.

So as the 15 pretenders to the title of French telly’s newest reality TV hero or heroine are busy settling in to their 24/7 life together transmitted live on the Net and daily on the small screen, we can probably expect some tasteless antics similar to last year’s offering – such as the rump steak shoved down the underpants of one male contestant.

There’ll also doubtless be the same sort of petty rivalries, squabbles and handbags-at-dawn stuff that characterised much of the first series.

But breathe a sigh of relief because at least it’s all being done in the name of entertainment. And as much as some might question why and find it “outrageous”, there’ll probably still be millions tuning in.

Let’s also not forget there’s always the “off” button on the TV set or alternative viewing on other channels.

As compulsive and trashy as Secret Story might be it'll still more than likely pull in the viewers and become its own story in itself as the nation tut-tuts and hisses in disapproval and indignation at the antics of the previous night's revelations.

And here's one of the secrets......



And one day later the first "secret" is revealed as the Belgian couple are outed.



Oh well. In the indomitable words of La Voix “C’est tout pour le moment.

Dumbing up

Advertising on public television is soon to be a thing of the past here in France. A couple of weeks ago the French president, Nicolas Sarkozy, announced his intention to scrap commercials on the country’s five state-owned channels. He also wants to drop the English and Arabic sections of the fledgling international news broadcaster, France 24.

It’s hard exactly to follow the thinking behind Sarkozy’s decision. He claims he wants to raise the standard of programming and prevent the main public station, France 2, from becoming a carbon copy of its independent rival, TF1.

Seems a bit rich really coming from a man whose idea of a cultural highlight appears to be a day out at Eurodisney.

Still, Sarkozy has apparently discovered a taste for culture and clearly believes the rest of the country should share it.

But is that really the thinking behind his move or is there some other more sinister motive in play?

Just take a look at the manner in which the president revealed his plans. Two weeks ago at a press conference he surprised everyone with the news, especially Patrick de Carolis, the head of France 2.

De Carolis had been invited to attend, but cancelled at the last moment, which was probably just as well because it gave him a chance to collect his thoughts and avoid total public humiliation. That’s right Sarkozy hadn’t given him the slightest inkling of his plans ahead of time.

Personal payback perhaps for de Carolis who is a long time close friend of the former president, Jacques Chirac - not exactly Sarkozy’s favourite person in the world.

Then of course there is the extra revenue boost the move will give to TF1 – its share price has already soared – owned strangely enough by one of Sarkozy’s cronies. And the persistent rumours – fervently denied – that the government’s real aim is for the privatisation of France 2.

Whatever the reasoning might be, the financial repercussions cannot be overlooked and how exactly the government intends to fill the hole left by the loss of revenue is somewhat fuzzy.

Advertising currently brings in France 2 €800 million a year. The culture and communications minister, Christine Albanel, insists that there will be no increase in the licence fee. Instead the shortfall in revenue will be met by a new tax on all audio-visual equipment and other forms of media including computers, mobile phones and Internet providers.

So although there’ll be no hike in the licence, the general public will in fact be asked to dig deeper into their pockets. That’ll come as great news at a time when households will anyway be forced to buy new televisions as France follows the European-wide switchover to digital broadcasting.

While the government insists that ratings shouldn’t be the defining mechanism for programme schedules, it remains something of a mystery as to how exactly France 2 will be able to afford the longed-for “quality” television.

The production costs for example of its much heralded recent dramatisation of a Guy de Maupassant novel cost the equivalent of €1.2 million per hour. The price tag for 60 minutes-worth of an imported sure-fire US hit is just €80,000.

It doesn’t take a genius to work out that unless the government is able to magic-up money from its declared empty coffers, France 2 is going to be hard pushed to provide viewers with anything other than television on the cheap.

Persiflage

Defending the indefensible

Oh dear. There’s a tremendous polemic in progress here in France at the moment as journalists get their knickers well and truly twisted over the coverage of the nation’s most prominent sweethearts.

Cameras may have been a-clicking and headline writers a-titling after last weekend’s romantic photo op at Euro Disney as the president, Nicolas Sarkozy, and his latest belle, Carla Bruni, took to the roller coasters, but one broadcaster is adamantly refusing to air the story.

TF1, France’s main private television channel, has so far not mentioned the happy couple in any of its news broadcasts.

On Monday evening, after all the national dailies had carried front page pictures and radio ‘phone-ins had jabbered on about little else all day, the five million or so viewers of TF1’s prime time news could well have expected a comment or two.

After all at the same time, over on the country’s main public television channel, France 2, the news team’s head honcho, David Pujadas, was happily anchoring a 10-minute wrap of the Disney fable, including a video taken by a happy member of the public.

But no, TF1 had decided that the Sarkozy-Bruni day out was not newsworthy. In fact it wasn’t even a story.

The channel’s main news presenter, Patrick Poivre D’Arvor (PPDA), has since been popping up everywhere else defending the decision. Apparently his, and the rest of TF1’s thinking is that as there has been no official comment from the president, there is nothing to report – ergo there isn’t a story. The private life of the president, PPDA maintains, is exactly that, and should not be covered.

Somehow though those claims seem to be full of holes and they certainly don’t wash with the rest of the media’s thinking.

Most editors - television, radio and press – consider Sarkozy’s very public appearance with Bruni to have been sanctioned by the president himself as a chance for pictures to be taken of the two together. No statement may have been made, but the photos were authorised in terms of when and how they were taken.

There was no long lens involved, no secrecy and there have been no attempts to prevent publication.

The photos are in the public domain, and while it’s certainly open to question as to whether they are actually interesting, they are of interest. They were authorised and they are therefore news.


Still TF1 stands by its decision, claiming that the president’s private life is of no interest (to its viewers) and Tuesday evening’s programme was equally void of any mention. Of course it all raises the question as to how journalists decide what is newsworthy – a process seldom open to great viewing public.

It surely cannot be simple payback time as PPDA, his lunchtime equivalent Jean-Pierre Pernault and the weekend anchor, Claire Chazal, have all had their private lives plastered over the front pages at one time or another. And they all have a significant role in deciding the contents of the news broadcasts.

The invasion of privacy argument is even harder for TF1 to justify in light of the fact that just a couple of months ago the channel led its new programme with Sarkozy’s divorce on the same day that the train drivers brought the country to a standstill on the first of their national strikes.

And of course the delightful twist in all of this is the extra coverage the (non) story is getting everywhere – except TF1 of course.

White dwarf

The death of a telly icon

Jacques Martin died on Thursday.

His is not a name that will ring many bells outside of the Francophone world, but he was a giant of the small screen here in France. Not only that, he was also a journalist, raconteur, crooner, animateur, comédien (in the French sense of the word) and comedian (in the English)….in fact a general all round bon vivant, immensely and multi-talented and a huge influence on today’s telly presenters and much beloved by the viewing public. And he still managed to squeeze in time for three marriages and eight children from four different women. You do the maths.

His death on Thursday brought glowing tributes from all quarters, reflecting how important a figure he was on the French cultural scene. Yep, that’s right. Even though France may often wish to view itself a civilised notch or two above the rest of the world, it can be as grubbily lowbrow as the best. Telly rools. OK!

Martin shot to fame as the host of a series of hit comedy shows on French television, including the satirical "Le Petit Rapporteur," It was a spoof newscast that ran from 1975-1976 and is often cited as the forerunner of the critically acclaimed “Les Guignols – a Spitting Image-type satire which wickedly continues to lampoon politicians on a daily basis. Both Martin’s programmes and his humour shaped the futures of a host of presenters who currently dominate the airwaves of French telly.

Rather sadly perhaps, younger generations will remember him more for his “L’ecole des fans” – a sickly sweet nonsensical Sunday afternoon institution in which he gently cajoled children into singing in front of a live audience. It drew “oohs” and “ahs” all round (especially from the proud parents sitting in the public) but was light years away from the groundbreaking and trendsetting work of the 70s and 80s

For over 30 years Martin’s face was familiar to millions, popping up frequently on the television in a series of programmes until a stroke ended his career in 1998, forcing him to leave his last show, "Sous vos applaudissements" (With Your Applause), abruptly.

On the news of his death, the tributes started pouring in – in a manner normally reserved for the greats of cinema, literature and art. Even the Culture Minister, Christine Albanel, chipped in with her two penny worth, calling Martin a "free spirit, an impertinent spirit, very funny, full of talent."

Television and radio re-jigged their Friday evening schedules (apart from TF1 which broadcast live England’s crushing humiliation at the feet of South Africa – aie, aie, aie) to honour him.

But there remained one voice noticeably absent from the roll call. There was not a squeak from the Elysees Palace, usually so hot in paying homage to the passing of an important national figure. Just last month the president, Nicolas Sarkozy, interrupted his US vacation to fly back for the funeral of a former Archbishop of Paris.

All right, all right so a journalist/television presenter cannot perhaps be compared to a man of the cloth. But there is one delicate issue here that cannot be neglected.

Back in 1984 when Sarkozy, was mayor of the Paris suburb of Neuilly, he officiated at Martin’s second marriage to a certain Cecilia Ciganer-Albeniz. The couple had two children before divorcing. So what’s the big deal? Well Cecilia is now married to Sarkozy and safely ensconced at the Elysees Palace with those two teenage blonde beauties, Judith and Jeanne-Marie.

The silence is deafening.