Rob Blackhurst

Seven days in the press: Naomi's victory over the Mirror means things may have to be a little different around here.

• Rob Blackhurst
• Observer.co.uk,
• Sunday March 31 2002

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hese were seven days in which newspaper proprietors experienced sudden chest pains and tabloid editors gulped hard. Naomi's victory over Piers had baffled everyone - it was obvious that something strange was afoot when the pathologically Piers-baiting Sun resisted the temptation to crow, and editor David Yelland offered to stand "shoulder to shoulder" (playing Mr Tony to Piers' Dubya?).

With every celebrity in distress - except the exceptionally famous, like Mr Gary Flitcroft - now given a green light to phone their lawyer whenever some uncomfortable truth found its way into the papers, there is clearly a new climate to which your humble column shall have to observe. Before that dark Thursday it was like Eden before the fall - a belle epoque of malicious rumour, catty commentary and vintage unfounded allegations. Operating in this new repressive era, this column has therefore to dispense with normal conventions of nomenclature and allude to the demigods under discussion by the most subtle and non-litigious means we can muster.

So we must begin with the Oscars where a part-time antipodean sheep-shearer spent the evening out of sorts, allegedly refusing to attend the after-show party for his film The Beautiful Mind. After bad-boy shenanigans had cost our hero the Best Actor Award, he was spotted by the ubiquitous Daily Mail "lurching around a mammoth suite at the Belle Air hotel" with a "scowl on his face that couldn't be removed". The stardust also quickly faded for a red-headed broom-cupboard frequenting German tennis star when he was banished from Elton John's soiree.

The night lost its lustre too for the newly married neo-septuagenarian sister of a Hollywood novelist called Jackie. The Mail discovered her husband "placing his hand on the thigh" of a "scarlet-swathed lady" whilst she sat only feet away. The paper also eavesdropped on a furious tiff between the couple at Liza Minelli's wedding: "Don't you ever forget the rules when you're with me again" she barked as he slunk, chastened, back to her table: "you're only here because of me". Optimistically, the Mail asked for help in identifying the scarlet woman: "Call our news-desk if you know this lady" it pleaded, though the number of Mail readers who both attend Oscar parties and can recognise semi-concealed Hollywood socialites must surely be few. By Thursday, however, there were red-faces all round as it emerged that the enigmatic vamp was, in fact, married to Barry Humphries, who had been mysteriously doctored from the incriminating photo.

The award for most impressive prediction surely went to Bonnie Greer in the New Statesman. "Think of it" she opined on the eve of festivities: "Four black people posing together for the press backstage after the ceremony: Sidney Poitier with his Special Achievement Oscar; Halle Berry, Best Actress, Will Smith or Denzel Washington, Best Actor; and past Oscar winner and compere Whoopi Goldberg". Such supernatural powers of foresight were unfortunately dashed by the sign off-line "in your dreams" in a piece entitled "A black actor winning an Oscar? Cut!"

Any petulant behaviour at the Oscars was nothing compared to the career-burying visit to London experienced this week by a scantily clad Baptist from the Deep South. The star was booed after she snubbed crowds outside the premiere of her debut film, Cross-roads. "You are in danger of disappearing up your own perfectly-formed backside" fumed The Sun's Dominic Mohan. The Mail sharpened its nails: "It's bad enough looking tarty. But it's terrible if you also look so ridiculous you'd never pick up any trade" To add to the ignomy, the Texan idol had to endure tiresome journalistic attempts to expose her ignorance of the British Constitution, as The Mirror countered with the "exclusive" revelation that America's most famous pop-icon had not ever heard of our very own star-spangled Prime Minister. For some unfathomable reason the conversation was attributed to "an aide connected to Polstar Vodka". Yet the text bore an uncanny resemblance to "a brief but illuminating interview" as related by the Daily Telegraph's Peterborough column:

Britney: Tony Blair? I've never heard of him

Peterborough: Well, Mr Blair is our Prime Minister.

Britney: Oh, this Mr Blair must be very important,then, if he's the Prime Minister.

Such revelations were perhaps worrying evidence of US isolationism, though the news that she hadn't heard of a British Government press officer, even if it was the famously besotted Alistair Campbell, had less shock value. .

In fact, we're getting slightly fed up of the "who hasn't Britney heard of" game. When her sometime boyfriend, NSYNC's Justin Timberlake, said he identified with the Beatles a little while ago, journalist Roger Friedman asked: 'Does this mean Britney is Yoko Ono?' Spears responded: 'Who?' Friedman:'You're probably more Linda McCartney. 'A dumbfounded Spears drawled: 'I'm sorry. I'm very young.'.

Villains of the Week

The menfolk of the tiny island of Aldernay attracted opprobrium this week when they lay siege to the three-man police station in a human rights protest against the treatment of a man arrested for drink-driving. 30 people threw stones and missiles at the station . The beleaguered garrison only managed to hold the line after reinforcements arrived in the form of the volunteer fire brigade and the harbour office. "Never in my lifetime of 46 years in Alderney have I heard of such a serious incident", fulminated an island elder.

Good Week for…

Blackpool The unlikely rebirth of Blackpool as Lancashire's own Las Vegas was promised this week as the Government announced plans to deregulate gambling. But a cold blast of puritanism came from the Daily Mail, who warned that the changes would bring: "an alarming increase in gambling addiction, with children suffering as families were plunged into debt". Most baffling of all were the widespread fears that Blackpool - for decades a playground for stag nights and party conferences - would somehow lose its image as a "family resort". "Blackpool is nice as it is", one Kathleen Scott from Skipton told the Mail as she promenaded along the "golden mile".

Theft

Greater Manchester Police demonstrated their trusting nature this week when they received a call from a man concerned about a stranger loitering next to his neighbour's van. Instead of dispatching a patrol car, a hapless constable told the caller to put the suspect on the phone "so he can tell us what he's up to" The obliging suspect explained that he was "removing expensive tools for safe-keeping". Duly satisfied, the officer told the concerned neighbour "no to worry" as the stranger drove off into the night with £600 of equipment. "It's one thing to discover you've been robbed, but quite another to find that the police have lent a helping hand" the van-owner railed. A Police spokesman with no obvious sense of irony told the Mail: "this incident has been brought to our attention".

Bad Week For…

Chester:

The Duke of Westminster, Britain's richest man, held a conference this week to draw attention to the "drunken brawling" and loud "anti-social behaviour" in the walled Roman City of Chester The Duke's noblesse oblige was sparked when he overheard his daughters, Lady Tamara and Lady Edwina, bemoan life in the well-healed Home of Hollyoaks. "I was listening to my two daughters while we were having supper one night, and I asked them where they had been the night before" his lordship recounted: "they said they had been to Liverpool and Ellesmere Port…It seems extraordinary that two young girls will pay a lot of money to avoid Chester". Not so extraordinary, perhaps, if Pater is worth £3.4 billion. "Chester is one of the safer cities in the UK" a narked spokesman for Cheshire Police said: "It is not violent".

Pembroke College

The stench of something unpleasant wafted from Pembroke College, Oxford this week when a Sunday Times reporter, posing as a wealthy banker, was offered preferential treatment for his son in return for a substantial donation. In a covertly taped interview, the notably unholy Reverend John Platt lamented that the college needed the money because it was "as poor as shit", offering to create an extra place on a law course. "We know the law tutors, and shall we say the law tutors understand" he roguishly winked. The College was roundly condemned by all with the exception of the Daily Telegraph, who felt duty-bound to leap to the defence of such naked privilege. "Poor old Pembroke" it indulgently mused. "colleges need donations…the duty to provide the best education should not be sacrificed to social engineering".