Transcript: Charlie Brooker - How to Report the News
(I typed this up because the other transcripts were either missing bits and pieces or were clearly written by someone with absolutely no grasp of the English language.)
I claim nothing for the following content. The video is property of the BBC.
Before long, a standard news report—visual language—established itself: one that's immediately recognizable to anyone.
Me has this report.
It starts here, with a lacklustre establishing shot of a significant location.
Next a walky-talking preamble from the auteur, pacing steadily towards the lens, punctuating every other sentence with a hand gesture, and ignoring all the pricks milling around him like he's gliding through the fucking Matrix, before coming to a halt and posing a question: What comes next?
Often something like this—a filler shot designed to give your eyes something to look at while my voice babbles on about facts. Sometimes it'll slow down to a halt, turn monochrome, and some of those facts will appear one by one on the screen.
This is followed by the obligatory shots of overweight people with their faces subtly framed out, after which the report is padded out with a selection of lazy and pointless vox pops.
Um, usually get some inane chatter from people.
I think they do have too much, I think what we want to hear is actually what's happening and not what other people think of it.
I hate these sound bites. I don't want some punter's opinion, usually, no.
Another bit of dull visual abstraction to plug another gap now, before the report segues gracefully into a bit of human interest, courtesy of some dowdy man opening letters in a kitchen and explaining how he's been affected by the issue.
When I'm watching the news, I don't really, you know, there's a person talking to me, telling me what's going on and I don't really listen to what they're saying. It's just news. It's just news.
He, unfortunately, was boring, so to wake you up, this is an animated chart, this is a silhouette representing the average family, and this is a lighthouse keeper being beheaded by a laser beam.
As we near the end of the report, illustrative shots of pedestrians and signs and a pipe at a window.
And then the final summary, ending on a whimsical shot of something nearby, accompanied by a wry sign-off. If you're lucky, a bit of word play fit for a king, or in other words, a Regent Street/regent's treat.
I claim nothing for the following content. The video is property of the BBC.
Before long, a standard news report—visual language—established itself: one that's immediately recognizable to anyone.
Me has this report.
It starts here, with a lacklustre establishing shot of a significant location.
Next a walky-talking preamble from the auteur, pacing steadily towards the lens, punctuating every other sentence with a hand gesture, and ignoring all the pricks milling around him like he's gliding through the fucking Matrix, before coming to a halt and posing a question: What comes next?
Often something like this—a filler shot designed to give your eyes something to look at while my voice babbles on about facts. Sometimes it'll slow down to a halt, turn monochrome, and some of those facts will appear one by one on the screen.
This is followed by the obligatory shots of overweight people with their faces subtly framed out, after which the report is padded out with a selection of lazy and pointless vox pops.
Um, usually get some inane chatter from people.
I think they do have too much, I think what we want to hear is actually what's happening and not what other people think of it.
I hate these sound bites. I don't want some punter's opinion, usually, no.
Another bit of dull visual abstraction to plug another gap now, before the report segues gracefully into a bit of human interest, courtesy of some dowdy man opening letters in a kitchen and explaining how he's been affected by the issue.
When I'm watching the news, I don't really, you know, there's a person talking to me, telling me what's going on and I don't really listen to what they're saying. It's just news. It's just news.
He, unfortunately, was boring, so to wake you up, this is an animated chart, this is a silhouette representing the average family, and this is a lighthouse keeper being beheaded by a laser beam.
As we near the end of the report, illustrative shots of pedestrians and signs and a pipe at a window.
And then the final summary, ending on a whimsical shot of something nearby, accompanied by a wry sign-off. If you're lucky, a bit of word play fit for a king, or in other words, a Regent Street/regent's treat.