” Klein hustles outside to “spray” the newser, that is, get footage of the line-up without sound.Back inside he follows Amy down the corridor with nurse Betty, shoots her consultation, plus the all-important Band-Aid on the wound, and the final bill-paying moment, a twenty and a ten, .Throughout Klein keeps the camera on so he can “be in the story as much as possible.It gives an immediacy that for TV is really good.” A 20-year, 10 News veteran, Klein loves filming the real. Covering people, he says, “You never, never, never, want to touch someone” because that may evoke a manufactured feeling—your niceness may make them act differently.
So the pair decided to find a new angle or, better, to something out of the newser.
The viewer will just change the channel.” The shorts-wearing, gangly photographer, looking not unlike a high school tennis coach, wants to craft the piece differently, so it doesn’t end up as a 30-second voice-over—an anchor reading over the videotape—the standard mind-lolling, flash-obvious method of daily TV news presentation.
Kim, a Korean-American woman whose black hair sculpts her face in feathery flips, tells me she’s learned to be wary of county and city bigwigs who call for cameras.
People are in awe of anchors, so much so that they’ll often say what they think the anchor would like them to say.
Kim has found a diabetic man who’s periodically used ER’s for problems related to diabetes that are not life-threatening. There’s a festering boil on his arm that he calls “cancer,” which he says he can’t afford to get checked.