On Red Carpet, One Needn’t Walk Alone

Dozens of people happily collected Emmy Awards on Aug. 26. You wouldn’t know most of their names, because they toil primarily in technical jobs, but they savored receiving the industry’s highest honor just the same, basking in the acclaim of their television industry peers.

It’s also worth pointing out that most of them, shockingly, made it from their cars to the auditorium without the help of a personal publicist.

One could easily conclude this is not a skill manageable by many of their acting brethren, at least based on the fuss kicked up by personal publicists, whose recent complaints regarding the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences--the organization that will present the Emmys this Sunday--provide a wonderful (if somewhat laughable) window onto the bizarre relationship between celebrities, their handlers and today’s turbocharged hype machine.

In this case, a few personal publicists responsible for the care and feeding of TV stars were outraged--outraged!--that clients might have to navigate their way from a limousine down the red carpet and into the Shrine Auditorium--where the Emmys will be handed out--without help from their publicists, who were to have been relegated to a “waiting area.”

The academy’s goal was simply to keep the red-carpet area--a modern-day gantlet, only with preening TV news people beaning the famous with silly questions instead of sticks--from becoming as clogged as the Santa Monica Freeway at rush hour.

This is not to imply, by the way, that stars would have had to find their way alone. Perish the thought. No, there are dozens of network and studio publicists, plus representatives from the publicity firm retained by the academy, assigned to oversee arrivals and who goes where.

Yet to the personal publicists, their diminished role was a great affront, prompting a flurry of angry letters after last year’s Emmys and a heated meeting to rectify the problem before this year’s ceremony.

Granted, the life of a personal publicist isn’t easy, given that part of their job, to quote a very old joke, is to say “gesundheit” before the client sneezes.

Still, they clearly seemed to be overreacting to a rather minor problem. Hoping to restore peace, the academy capitulated. The red carpet will be twice as wide (38 feet, instead of 19) and more than 100 publicists will receive credentials for both the arrival and backstage areas.

Academy President Jim Chabin said the publicists had some legitimate concerns and, given that handing out awards in 81 categories will invariably leave someone miffed, this particular mini-crisis could be averted with relative ease.

“To the extent [the change] helps them love the academy more, that’s great,” he said.

In a broader sense, the influence of personal publicists has gotten out of hand. News organizations desperate for celebrity names to sell magazines and boost ratings for TV shows have allowed publicists to push them around, attempting to control the sort of coverage they receive and dictating the terms under which a star will be made available.

Under this system, PR mavens endeavor to shield clients from “bad” reporters, those who might--horrors!--ask a question that deviates from the pre-approved “Where did you get your dress?” script. None of this quite adds up to journalism, but as long as people keep watching and subscribing, no one seems to care.

In the publicists’ defense, however (and rest assured, that’s not a phrase you’ll see here often), the proliferation of entertainment-obsessed media outlets and increased tabloid-style reporting even by traditional news sources has left performers understandably wary of whom they’re talking to when they pause for a red-carpet chat.

Besides the tabloid media, they must deal with TV coverage ranging from Joan Rivers’ latest non sequitur to would-be Spice Girls such as KTLA’s Mindy Burbano to out-of-their-element news anchors such as KABC-TV’s Laura Diaz--people who often have barely the vaguest idea who the actors are or why they’re there.

“Some of them aren’t prepared on what’s going on,” veteran publicist Pat Kingsley, the head of PMK, said regarding the swarming media hordes. “You try to get them up to speed before the client gets there.”

Annett Wolf, another publicist who, like Kingsley, complained to the academy, added that some stars don’t want to talk to certain media outlets--those inclined to ask prying questions about a recent divorce, for example--and rely on their publicists to run interference.

Regarding the red-carpet ruckus, she said, “It makes us sound like glorified baby-sitters, and it makes actors sound like they can’t leave the house and make it from the door to the car. [But] we’re not there to hold hands. . . . In those situations, it’s just inappropriate to bring those [personal] things up.”

Don Mischer, executive producer of four consecutive Emmys, can appreciate both sides of this latest tussle--the publicists’ desire to play blocking back and the academy’s concern about a traffic jam outside the Shrine. “Several times we’ve had trouble getting people into their seats for a 5 o’clock live start,” he noted.

As for the notion stars savor passing through that throng and waving at adoring fans, despite all the glamour and glad-handing, this is just another part of the job--a show put on for those screaming behind the barricades and snuggled up at home, wondering how many laps they’d have to run around the universe to have legs like Halle Berry’s.

“Some of them are very uncomfortable working the red carpet,” said Kingsley, whose clients include Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman. “It’s not that they look forward to it, so they look to someone to make it as smooth as possible. . . . That’s one of the reasons actors come to independent agencies, to be taken care of in situations like these.”

All of which brings us back to that earlier ceremony, when awards were handed out in 53 categories, among them editing, sound, music, hairstyling and art direction. By contrast, half that many awards will be presented Sunday to honor performers and programs, commanding three hours on ABC.

Recipients in the “creative arts,” as the academy calls them, claimed their statuettes without controversy, without dozens of cameras congesting the red carpet, without impertinent questions, without pre-shows and post-shows and microphones shoved under surgically altered noses and meticulously rouged lips.

Life’s journey can be easier, sometimes, when you don’t have to worry about ego trips.

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Brian Lowry’s column appears on Tuesdays. He can be reached by e-mail at brian.lowry@latimes.com.