January 2006

YOU DON'T SACK MAX

You don't sack Max

Celebrity Big Brother winner Chantelle's decision to drop Max Clifford looks naive, especially as he's a master at keeping bad news out of the tabloids

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Last week, as Chantelle was being crowned the new queen of instant celebrity, Max Clifford remarked: "With a little bit of careful handling, good luck and a fair wind, I could extend her 10 minutes of fame to 15 or 20."
But it seems that Chantelle - who delighted in telling her housemates how she wasnít interested in "knowledge" - wasn't listening.

Just as the clock began ticking towards her first million, she's made a mistake that could cut her 10 minutes of fame down to five. She's chosen to break her arrangement with Max.

Let's not forget that Clifford is a brand. He has no truck with long and detailed contracts that keep minor showbiz lawyers in pin money. He doesn't need contracts and he doesn't have to find work; he's the master of turning a scandal into a nest egg.

Max famously holds back scandals about notable celebrities, ready to be harvested at a time that he - and they - find most useful.

Max is a master of keeping bad news OUT of the papers - simply by offering better stories to take their place.

The naivety of the Houghton camp is breathtaking. Perhaps they should consider why the tabloids gave the girl from Wickford such an easy ride and why Celebrity Big Brother fans didn't see any lurid tales in the tabloids while she was getting close with the Ordinary Boy. With the Clifford office working behind the scenes, Chantelle profited from this free labour. But ultimately what price will she pay?

It's understandable that an Essex shop girl might not know the rules of celebrity but surely someone could have told her that nobody "sacks" Max. Not if they know what's good for them. After all, true success is a long game, as the wily old Clifford is only to keen to promote.

What happened is this: while Chantelle was incarcerated with George and Pete and Preston and co, her mum Vivian went to Max to set up some deals for her upon her release.

Max responded by getting her all sorts of great exposure from an OK! photo shoot, TV appearances, dinner with his client Simon Cowell and a rumoured American TV series.

So what did Chantelle do when she got out of the house? Perhaps mistaking a moment in the limelight for a whole career, she decided to ditch Max and sign up instead with TV presenters' agent John Noel.

My reaction is much the same as Chantelle's when the doors finally opened: "Ohmygod!"

It's not that she's made a bad decision to go with John Noel, who helped turn Jade Goody into the most successful Big Brother contender of all, and whose clients also include Davina McCall (coincidence?) but that she's stitched up Max.

There's nothing illegal about what she's done - Clifford famously works without contracts - but it's far from wise. Because even an Essex girl must know that anyone who's got any dirt on anyone goes to Max Clifford. As many in showbiz land know Mr C has a very long memory and is often seen eating dishes that are stone cold.

If she's got any skeletons in her cupboard (and she'd better not!) the photos are bound to end up on his desk. And from there, it's a very short step indeed to the picture desk of every red-top in town.

Of course not even Max could have predicted that Chantelle would win the show, but you don't have to be the winner to become the biggest success. Just ask Jade Goody (who didn't win). Or Cameron Stout (who did).

THE REDEMPTION OF MICHAEL BARRYMORE

BIG BROTHER The romance of the Nobodies (Chantelle and Preston) will run and run – at least until she becomes the face of Primark – but the story of BB7 is the redemption of Michael Barrymore.

Only the other day he was a fallen idol, a pariah, a pervert, a poof and a potential conspirator in a sordid death, whiling away the fag end of his career alone on the other side of the world.

There were many who predicted that his decision to enter the BB house was a disastrous misjudgment, a sign of desperation. And there were times when he looked like a broken man as he wandered around at all hours muttering to himself.

But today it’s a different story. Barrymore is back.

The public has voted with its dialing fingers and declared their former favourite TV personality to be ‘orwight’ after all. Not as orwight as Chantelle, but more orwight than all his fellow celebs.

That alone would be enough to kickstart his career after five years in the wilderness. But today came the coup-de-grace when The Sun, which like everyone else, began BB7 by casting Barrymore as the villain, put him back on the front page.

While their rivals focus on Chantelle and Preston (having paid richly for the privilege), the Currant Bun craftily engineered a meeting between Barrymore and ‘tragic father-of-two’ Stuart Lubbock’s dad Terry.

In the church of celebrity, careers can be revived by absolution. And with Lubbock’s gracious words comes redemption for Michael Barrymore.

Looking back now, we can see that Barrymore’s ostensibly high-risk decision to take part in BB7 was not only courageous, but an opportunity he could not afford to miss.

In one sense he had nothing to lose, because his career was over, but he also had everything to gain. And if anyone knows about the restorative powers of publicity, it’s surely Barrymore, whose crazy antics kept us all amused – and him rich, famous and popular – right up to the night of the pool party.

He might not have looked like he knew where he was or even, at times, who he was in there, but Barrymore knew just what he was doing.

He was serving time, paying his penance, showing humility, keeping his head down and his nose clean. The others were playing for £25,000 but he had more at stake – he was playing for his career.

And while you may think he came second, I can assure you that he walked out of that house with the biggest prize.

PROTECTING THE GOLDEN GOOSE.

Protecting the golden goose.

Sven should pay for a better defence against intrusive journalism if he is to stay out of the tabloids

Coughing up his Swiss-style premium muesli on Sunday morning, Sven-Goran Eriksson surely might have considered his consistency in making gigantic PR blunders on a scale few professionals have ever seen before.

http://media.guardian.co.uk/columnists/story/0,7550,1687751,00.html

If the current England manager has a fatal weakness for falling into the tabloids' hands, then who stands by to protect him against editors who see his scalp as a legitimate trophy? His loyal agent Athol Still has escaped the blame, despite seeing his client being duped by the News of the World's wily "fake sheik" Mazher Mahmood. Listening to Still's defence of his client's entrapment by Mahmood on Gary Richardson's show on BBC 5 Live on Sunday morning, clearly demonstrated that the man is a dinosaur in the modern media game.

Does he think that newspapers are focused on supporting an England manager in the run up to the World Cup that is still five months away? Here was proof that the agent thinks Fleet Street gives a damn for a manager who earns millions from the FA. Perhaps Eriksson should pay for a better defence against intrusive journalism.

Still's job description is to steer the good ship Eriksson through the stormy waters, cut deals and keep the media at bay. But his media toolkit is lacking some key implements. Make no mistake, Still is not alone; the legions of agents that surround the game fail to be accomplished in the battle with modern journalism. In my experience, I have had the pleasure of meeting a number of football agents, men who have found a position of trust in a significant footballing person's life. These individuals are always on hand to calm a furrowed brow or to cut a deal; but few have the sophistication to forge an expressive ongoing media strategy.

There is no excuse for an England manager to bitch about his players behind their backs - Eriksson has a duty to remain aloof. The fake sheik's supposed wealth was just too tempting for the Swede to be enigmatic.

The myth is that there is so little time to be at the top of the modern game, that the agents have the mission to squeeze as much cash as possible before a career is cruelly ended by some unknown force of misfortune. But if the agent's job is to feather the client's penthouse with the trappings of Mammon, then surely the star should have sound media counsel.

Sven has the honour of making the headlines on a regular basis since the Ulrika gaffe. Surely at that point, Still should have paid for a consultant to be part of Brand Sven. Perhaps Stuart Higgins, the able tabloid editor turned poacher who manages the media images of some of the key Premiership names, could have been considered.

Asking someone like Higgins to help would have cost money, and here hangs the paradox: the agent's first law of survival is not to let someone into the inner sanctum. But instead of a few euros being spent on PR skills, all-consuming avarice will lead more golden gooses to be slaughtered by the tabloids.

MONEY FOR NOTHING AND CHICKS FOR FREE

Edward Bernays, the " Father of Modern public relations" wrote that "The public's ability to create its own heroes from wisps of impressions and its own imagination, and to build them almost into flesh and blood gods, fascinates me." I had the same feeling about TV producers' creativity when watching the cheap Battenberg cake of terrestrial TV Celebrity Big Brother.

Last night as the wannabe stunna from Wickford, Chantelle Houghton escaped eviction by convincing the real celebrities (surely some mistake) that she was a star of a girl band. Channel 4 and Endemol have thrown a new zombie to the tabloids to help generate column inches for ratings to drive premium line revenue.

Production companies are constantly suggesting show formats that pluck nobodies to make hours of cheap TV, to see if they might become somebodies. I can imagine the excitement at the production office as the "Chantelle hook" was suggested to spice up the current Celebrity Big Brother. I have always posited that to create a celebrity there needs to be evidence that the person has to want to forge a deal with the devil; sacrificing and laying down their all to the pagan God of fame. The proof that Chantelle is a willing disciple to this cult is all around us, if we can be bothered to look? In the space of two days, various cheesy shots of the poor girl in various states of undress have been sold to the tabloids. We have discovered in the Sunday's that she is a monster in bed, and in another spread we find out that she makes a few bob being a Paris Hilton look-alike. Waking up this morning we are subjected to the required trial Page Three shoot. Give the bimbo a break; she has done an apprenticeship of sorts. Chantelle is proof that X List celebrity is the profession of choice in thousands of secondary schools up and down the country, the easy route in Civvy Street. The example that modern TV sets is that the joys and riches bestowed on this low brow eye candy are far more preferable than a career in a real profession of worth.

Perhaps one day Chantelle might reflect on being an exploited exhibit in the freak show created by a modern day Barnum that will make considerable revenue out of a simple naivety. Don’t moan Chantelle, after all you did get a few VIP passes to a nightclub of your choice for a few months, from your 15 minutes of fame? There is a chance to meet a boy band member thrown into the limelight by a similar set of circumstances. If marriage is the end result of the union, don’t expect flowers from the fat cat TV mogul sunning him or herself in their Caribbean retirement home, they have got far too rich on this soulless naivety to look back at the Frankenstein's monsters that they have forged.

Part of the challenge in CBB was that Chantelle sing her number 58 hit "I Want It Right Now." I suggest that there is some spiv in a back street some where now booking a studio for her to record it. I wonder if Endemol have tried to sell the idea to E4 to do a reality show on the record's release. I am sure that the current production team will be tempted to edit the show to see if a non celebrity can win Celebrity Big Brother. Now that’s a stunt that PT Barnum would be proud to pull.

THE TROUBLE WITH BAD NEWS

The trouble with bad news

Basking in the glow of potential good news is something to be avoided unless you are familiar with the facts

The scene at the Virginia coal mine was like an episode of The Simpsons with Governor Joe Manchin becoming the real life portrayal of bumbling Mayor Quimby.

http://media.guardian.co.uk/marketingandpr/comment/0,7494,1678389,00.html

Quick on the draw, the governor was on the scene to celebrate the news, with jubilant family members, that 12 miners were pulled out alive from the underground explosion.

From a PR perspective, jumping on the PR bandwagon for brownie points to fit in with the demands of 24/7 media is career suicide. PR practitioners need no other lesson than to see the governor's face when he learnt three hours later that they had been misled and just one miner actually survived.

The need to grasp the facts and deliver a stance is always an imperative, but basking in the glow of potential good news is something to be avoided unless you are familiar with the facts.

The governor's advisers were quick to try and spin that the chief executive of the mine was to blame for the stunning error, having misunderstood a conversation overheard between rescuers and the command centre.

As ever public figures are under pressure to bleed all media opportunities dry and to take an advanced position on a breaking story to push forward their own perspective or agenda.

Staying ahead has become vogue, by using television news to position a figurehead at the forefront of the media rush.

TV news needs fillers who react to the facts. If these facts are skewed, the editors constantly refresh the story with the real facts believing all that has been broadcast before it is forgotten. I am not sure if we have developed the attention span of a goldfish - those that prey on these media moments should learn a lesson from Governor Manchin's gaffe.

The real winners in this mistake will be hundreds of media training organisations who will see this PR blooper as a great break for selling their services to corporations on how to avoid such elephant traps in the future.

Pentagon staff are no fools and as the North Carolina News & Observer reported at the end of last year, there was a sharp increase in media training for forces going to Iraq.

The wise heads at the State Department held "one or two hours of briefings by public affairs specialists" mandatory for army troops, and distributed wallet-sized "talking point" cards to soldiers. One talking point was: "We are not an occupying force."

Now that's a well-versed soundbite.