There's a scene in the 1957 film classic "Sweet Smell of
Success" in which press agent Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis) grabs the
telephone from his secretary and tries to explain to his
nightclub-owner client why he failed to get him any ink in the
latest item by J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster), an all-too-powerful
and pernicious newspaper columnist modeled after Walter
Winchell.
"Watch me run the 50-yard dash with my legs cut off," whispers
Falco as he bobs and weaves around the truth. It's a juicy line.
Yet, in the context of PR, it's also dated, harkening back to a
time when press agents lived or died on their ability to get
clients constant exposure.
However, in the last 50 years as PR execs have grown in stature
and relevance throughout corporate America -- and in many cases
have become strategic partners in the boardroom -- the media
continue to misrepresent the profession.
In recent feature films including "Phone Booth" (2002) and
"People I Know" (2002), PR execs come off as oily at best, and
dishonest and deceitful at worst. Both movies, which share little
with the realities of PR, tanked at the box office.
However, our guess is that the latest attempt at illustrating PR
will attract much more attention than either of those clunkers --
not that it will do the profession any favors.
"PoweR Girls," which debuts next Thursday (March 10) at 10:30
p.m on MTV, brings to the reality-TV genre an inside look at
Lizzie Grubman Public Relations.
Call it "Survivor" cum "The Apprentice." According to
MTV's Web site, "Watch Rachel, Kelly, Millie and Ali plan nightclub
openings and album launches, hobnob with celebrities, wrangle the
paparazzi, pitch Page Six and shop, all the while fighting
for a permanent spot on Lizzie's team." (Ain't PR life grand?) MTV
adds: "Don't miss the drama take over their lives as these four
young ladies try to take over the celebrity party circuit, all
under the watchful of Lizzie on 'PoweR Girls.'"
Selling drama as part of the PR function indicates how divorced
from reality this "reality" show is likely to be. Being an
effective PR executive has nothing to do with drama and everything
to do with keeping a cool head and being able to tell the cold
truth to C-level executives who sometimes care not to hear it. To
portray PR as an endless party (with intervals for shopping and
pitching Richard Johnson at the New York Post) is wrong,
misguided and dangerous.
In anticipation of the premiere, the "PoweR Girls" (sans
Grubman) are featured in the March issue of Stuff wearing,
natch, next to nothing. It's great eye candy, but it begs the
question: Don't ask what Lizzie Grubman PR can do for its client
but what Lizzie Grubman PR can do for its budding staff of
clipboard couriers and headphone honies?
"PoweR Girls" is not about PR but, rather, about the public's
insatiable appetite for celebrity rehabilitation. Grubman, who has
represented predominately the glitterati since she launched her own
firm nearly a decade ago, fell into the celebrity vortex herself in
2001 when she served 37 days in jail for backing her car into a
crowd outside a hipper-than-thou nightclub in the Hamptons,
injuring 16 people.
The bulk of Grubman's clients are such nightclubs as Jet
Lounge in New York City and Bar Room in Miami --
celebrity hangouts that the peasants pine to enter. That's probably
addictive television for teenagers (of all ages) but it's hardly a
window into the inner sanctum of senior PR execs -- both corporate
and agency -- who do the hard, non-glam work of cultivating
contacts in the media, crisis management or any other of the
multiple facets of marketing communications.
What's more, the show's premiere comes at the worst possible
time for the PR profession, what with the blowback from the
Ketchum debacle (PR News, Feb. 9).
Like the shenanigans at Ketchum, "PoweR Girls" sends the wrong
message about the PR field. And if recent history is any
indication, the profession seems both unwilling and incapable of
changing the conversation to provide a more accurate picture.