NY Times Television, August 20, 1986

“A CURRENT AFFAIR” is tabloid journalism. Forget now the pejorative notions that cling to the phrase; “A Current Affair” is tabloid journalism at its best. It is zippy and knowledgeable, and when it falls on its face, at least it’s in there trying. The new weeknight series, on Channel 5 at 11:30, is the equivalent of a good afternoon newspaper.

The series, which began on July 28, features Maury Povich as host and anchor. Usually, Mr. Povich and his colleagues give us three stories each night. The lead story often works off the day’s news; the other stories are more imaginative. Whimsy goes to work.

Thus, while ABC’s “Nightline,” against which it must compete, is midway through an interview with a big-shot politician or academic, “A Current Affair” will give us, say, a dog locked in a car on the East Side without food or water. Moreover, on a subsequent night, Mr. Povich may even update the story. Has the dog - his name was Baron - found a good home? Trust Mr. Povich to tell us.

Do not dismiss stories like this as only frivolous. They combine old-fashioned street reporting and entertainment. At the same time, Mr. Povich and his colleagues do stories with serious purpose: radon in New Jersey, gambling in Atlantic City, prisoner abuse on Rikers Island.

These are generally well done, although in its zeal to stay on top of the news, “A Current Affair” may confuse solemnity and importance. On the eve of President Reagan’s recent medical examination, for example, Mr. Povich spoke about “a serious question over our President’s health.” A moment later, we saw Patrick McGrath, the program’s Washington correspondent, live on the White House lawn.

“There is no hard evidence the President has any serious health problems,” Mr. McGrath said. Indeed, the segment had no hard evidence about anything, although it did have a lot of what if’s. What if the President was ill? What if the White House tried to cover it up? Jody Powell, once the press secretary in the Carter Administration, was interviewed at length. It is no reflection on Mr. Powell, but, on the whole, one would rather hear about Baron.

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Indeed, “A Current Affair” works best where you least expect it. The other night, “Nightline” asked, “Are cancer, birth defects and heart disease linked to caffeine?” “A Current Affair” gave us, as its second story, a live interview with Zsa Zsa Gabor. Cindy Adams began by saying that Miss Gabor, who was in Los Angeles, has had eight husbands; No. 8, however, was supposed to be her first marriage to a prince.

Matter-of-factly, Miss Gabor corrected Mrs. Adams; she said she had married a prince once before. She also said that her new husband’s family was “screwy,” and that her life was going on “as usual - three dogs and a husband.” At the end of the interview, there were audio problems and Miss Gabor was unable to hear Mrs. Adams, who was trying to tell her the segment had run out of time.

“I love you,” Mrs. Adams finally shouted. “They’re cutting me off. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Talk about truth in journalism; this was the genuine article. When network corespondents interview important officials, they sometimes pretend they’re talking to strangers, rather than someone they had dinner with the night before. Mrs. Adams was being up front; she and Zsa, as she called her, were old pals.

Mr. Povich, meanwhile, seemed mildly embarrassed; he said that “A Current Affair” would next do a serious story about air-traffic problems. Say now that Mr. Povich would be an ornament to any news program, and that he is an able journalist, distinguished most of all by fair-mindedness. He still shouldn’t have been embarrassed.

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The interview with Miss Gabor was fun. It was in the best tabloid tradition. Say also now that there can be a lot of shrewdness in the tradition. The night before the Philippines Government held an auction at Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos’s old house in New York, “A Current Affair” did a segment on Mrs. Marcos. Once again, Mrs. Adams was the reporter.

Mrs. Marcos, Mrs. Adams said, was unhappy now because old friends like the actor George Hamilton had “dumped her.” Once Mrs. Marcos and her old friends enjoyed glory days and party nights.” Meanwhile, we saw the old house: disco lights and uncomfortable furniture. Mrs. Adams said that Mrs. Marcos loved to sing “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” and that the house was so noisy that, “sometimes our head would split.” We had the impression that Mrs. Marcos had led an empty life.

“You are a wealth of information,” Mr. Povich finally said to Mrs. Adams. Again, he seemed mildly embarrassed; again, he shouldn’t have been. It had been the most telling report that we were likely to see on television about Mrs. Marcos.

Characteristically then, “A Current Affair” followed a Marcos segment with a story about Nora Astorga, who represents Nicaragua at the United Nations. Ms. Astorga, Mr. Povich said, is also a contender for the title of “Iron Lady.” Mr. Povich may only have invented that, but so what? Good tabloid journalism is imaginative. “A Current Affair” is an interesting, often thoughtful, series with a nice sense of humor. It works more often than not.