But it was too late for “The Jenny Jones Show.” Last week a Michigan jury decided that the program was the reason a guest snapped and grabbed a gun. The jurors hit show owner Time Warner with $25 million in compensatory damages for negligence in the murder of Scott Amedure, who was shot and killed three days after revealing his hitherto-secret passion for buddy Jonathan Schmitz on daytime TV. After less than seven hours of deliberation, the jury agreed with plaintiff’s lawyer Geoffrey Fieger that the producers should have known Schmitz was mentally unbalanced and might go off the deep end if “humiliated” in this way.
Fieger’s role underscored that this story dwelt in the media hall of mirrors we now inhabit, one that would have seemed absurd just a few pre-O.J. years ago. Court TV covered the trial gavel to gavel, enjoying some of its highest ratings since you-know-who (more mirrors–Court TV is half-owned by Time Warner). Fieger is our latest, most extreme incarnation of that 1990s creature, the media-besotted barrister. He got into a shouting match with Morton Downey Jr. He mocked Jones about her “exploding” breast implants (a reference to travails outlined in People magazine). “Mr. Fieger, have you no shame?” said his opposing attorney at one point, and it was like the Army-McCarthy hearings. Except it wasn’t.
At trial, Fieger won in a walk. Jones herself was said to be “shaken up,” and told NEWSWEEK through a friend the verdict was “appalling” and she was “confident we will win on appeal.” It’s likely that the size of the judgment will be knocked way down. But as footage of the original “secret crush” show looped endlessly on the cable news shows, the accompanying postverdict analysis centered on whether this could have a chilling effect on not just TV talk shows, but any program with unscripted interviews and possible “surprises.” Jenny Jones wasn’t exactly an ideal standard-bearer for the First Amendment. Still, as esthetically unpleasant as the confessional culture may be to some, others argue these shows educate people on gay rights or spousal abuse. Harmless, lumpenproletariat fun. “It’s all about class,” says senior Warner Brothers attorney Zazi Pope. “It’s so elitist. Princess Diana went out there talking about bulimia and everyone cheered.” Amedure and Schmitz volunteered, after all, for their 15 minutes.
But what of the ne’er-do-well executive cowering behind his desk who flips out after Mike Wallace rides in with a camera crew? Some newspeople said privately they were unconcerned because they’re not in the business of staging events, then hoping for a blow-up. Fieger scoffed at the “chilling effect” argument, too: “That’s like saying that if you sue General Motors for the Corvair, they won’t be able to make cars anymore.” First Amendment lawyer Floyd Abrams called the verdict “preposterous.” As for the media coverage, the criminal retrial looms–Schmitz’s conviction for second-degree murder was tossed on a juror-dismissal issue. That show will start airing in August.
