

#Autocue reader tv
The average lifespan of a TV newsreader is around 20 years so once that 36th birthday is on the horizon it could be time for a career move. Total lack of awareness is also a statutory requirement as the 'permagrin' must remain even when reading stories of disaster death and destruction. Kick off your career in a traffic helicopter, spend a couple of years in front of a green screen pointing at various locations and that weather presenter job has your name written all over it. If you're a woman under the age of 35 then the sky's the limit. It's far more of an ageist society where there are certain key numbers that spell the words 'career over' when it comes to working on screen. The news industry is often accused of being sexist but not so or at least, not against women under a certain age.
#Autocue reader full
Gone are the days of the experienced hack on location telling you what really happened, now all you need is a never ending supply of peroxide for your hair, a friendly orthodontist who has shares in teeth whitening products and a relative who is a dab hand with a syringe full of botox then 'voila' you have now become the face of nightly news.įake tans, fake teeth and some fake boobs will go a long way to securing a prime time slot.and that's only the men! Seriously, turn on any TV news at 6pm in any location from the UK to Australia, USA to.hold on, they only talk about the USA over there so maybe not the best example but you get my point. The industry is now churning out 'Stepford Wives' style newsreaders and reporters. 1+1 / I’m Goin Down (Mary J.In a world that has become obsessed with real news, fake news, slow news and even no news days I've noticed a disturbing pattern.Beyoncé’s glitter ball horse has been nicknamed ‘Reneigh’ by fans Setlist Perhaps that’s why she saved the visuals for the tour: This is a record that needs to be experienced in real life, with other people.Īnd Beyoncé. Joy in being yourself, joy in dancing, joy in letting go, joy in being together. It all adds up to a message of acceptance and joy. In between, the show is narrated by legendary commentator Kevin JZ Prodigy, in an homage to the Ballroom subculture that originated amongst the black and Latino LGBTQ communities in New York while Beyoncé sings about quitting your job and throwing yourself headfirst into a a life of hedonistic pleasure (something she presumably allows herself to imagine once a day, just after breakfast, before snapping into a perfectly-timed dance break). The star wore a futuristic, all-red version of her outfit from the Formation videoīut there is a deeper message under the surface – one of self-acceptance, tolerance and freedom from expectations.Īs the audience arrives, the video screens display what looks like a TV test signal, but is in fact the colours of the Progress Pride flag.Īt the end of the show, the same screens light up with a photo of Beyoncé’s mother, Tina, and her “godmother” – her late uncle Jonny, a gay man who was HIV positive and introduced Beyoncé to much of the music that features on Renaissance (as well as designing some of her early stage costumes).

It’s fantastic and stupid and gleefully self-indulgent, which may disappoint people who came looking for the sort of socio-political commentary that Beyoncé delivered on her album Lemonade and the subsequent Coachella performance (Lemonade’s songs are conspicuously absent from this setlist). There are also dancers popping out of the stage like jack-in-the-boxes, a glitter ball the size of a small caravan, a phenomenal amount of glitter, and – for the finale – Beyoncé soaring around the stadium astride a giant silver horse, in a nod to Bianca Jagger at Studio 54. The staging, too, takes the sort of more-is-more approach that’s become necessary for a stadium concert.Īt various points, Beyoncé appears as Botticelli’s Venus in a clamshell, as an Athena riding rockets through space, as a human embodiment of a stained glass window, and as a giant bee (a nod to her nickname, Queen Bey). The stage changes and morphs throughout the show, with new sets, props and costumes every few songs It’s a maximalist love letter to dance music that never feels forced or unwieldy.
