The Daily Mail is an interesting publication. Most of the articles are poorly written, but it has an amazing spread, publishing everything from world news to entertainment trash to stories that are practically local gossip from faraway places. Often, its coverage pressures the mainstream media to report on stories they would rather ignore. The DM has a huge readership (I check it religiously), estimated at around 220 million unique visitors per month. It trends a little (a very little) conservative. That’s why the DM’s extraordinarily awful coverage of Hope Hicks’ testimony in Al Bragg’s farcical case against Trump matters. It’s a throwback to the 1920s or 1930s, meant to sway readers’ emotions without informing their minds.

In the 1920s and 1930s, when women were caught up in criminal matters, the yellow journalists of the day opted for two ways of covering them: Either they were reported as hardened gangster molls or as breathless, innocent maidens. The musical Chicago is based upon Roxie Hart, a play that a 1920s crime reporter wrote about the true stories of Beaulah Annan and other women imprisoned for murder in 1920s Chicago. Both the play and the musical reflect this binary crime coverage in that era.

I particularly like this number, which shows the way the media and the defense attorneys shaped the story without regard for the facts, to sell to audiences that were both soft-hearted and lascivious:

The same kind of reporting held true in England. Georgette Heyer parodied it perfectly in Behold, Here’s Poison, written in 1936:

‘“Murdered Man’s Sister in Suburban Poison Drama Refuses to Discuss Mystery Death,”’ read Stella in an awed voice. ‘“‘We think it wiser to say nothing,’ says Mrs Zoë Matthews, the graceful fair-haired widow concerned in the mysterious poisoning case at Grinley Heath which is baffling the Scotland Yard experts.”

[snip]

‘Listen to this!’ begged Miss Matthews in a trembling voice. ‘I never heard anything to equal it, never! “Wearing mourning” – I should like to know what else she would be wearing! – “and with a look of strain in her sad eyes, charming Mrs Zoë Matthews, the widowed sister-in-law of Gregory Matthews, whose death under mysterious circumstances took place at his residence at Grinley Heath a week ago, received me yesterday in her sunny drawing-room.” (pp. 197-198)

The Daily Mail’s coverage of Hope Hicks’ appearance in Trump’s “hush money” trial promises that she “delivered tearful and devastating testimony,” but there’s nothing “devastating” in the essay, so don’t worry. (More on that below.) What stands out is the way the essay is written to create sympathy for Hicks and imply that Trump, the man who led to her tears, is a monster. This is indistinguishable from Georgette Heyer’s parody:

Hope Hicks did not so much walk to the witness box as glide.

With highlighted curls splayed across her shoulders and her cheek bones picked out dramatically with blusher, she looked every inch the communications professional and confidante that she had once been for Donald Trump.

[snip]

She gave a fragile smile and asked if she is close enough to the microphone. ‘I’m really nervous,’ she admitted.

[snip]

There were no poker faces in the public gallery. A collective gasp circulated when the prosecution announced Hicks as its next witness.

[snip]

She gave another watery smile as she adjusted to the sound of her amplified voice.

[snip]

While she fidgeted and gave a nervy little gulp, Trump gave no sign of warmth. He sat, eyes half closed, looking unimpressed.

[snip]

Despite her obvious nerves, Hicks delivered her testimony in clear, concise answers. She described the campaign’s damage-control efforts amid a slew of allegations of unflattering sexual behavior with a remarkable degree of recall.

[snip]

In the end it was all too much for a tearful Hicks. She looked drained, spent.

As the defense began on her cross-examination, she asked for a moment to compose herself, turning away from the court and letting her hair fall across her face.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said amid sobs as the judge called for a break.

Then, when the day was finished, she walked briskly out of court, keeping her head turned away from the man she had served for six years.

This isn’t journalism. It’s a mash note from a lovesick swain (who, in the omitted parts, casts Trump as the quintessential evil villain who is missing only a mustache to twirl). The only newsworthy point in that entire mountain of old-fashioned journalistic sludge is this:

And the importance of her evidence was only underlined by the fact that it was Colangelo, who stepped down from a senior role at the Department of Justice to join the Manhattan District Attorney’s office, asking the questions.

In other words, the Justice Department is the one managing a fact- and law-free trial in a kangaroo court that is quite obviously intended to sideline Trump’s campaign and put him in jail.

If you want actual news about Hicks’ testimony, you can go to Simon Ateba, who explains that she said nothing noteworthy...and cites chapter and verse to support his contention:

BREAKING INSIDE NEW YORK COURT - NOTHING EXPLOSIVE IN HOPE HICKS TESTIMONY - 16 takeaways: We were bombarded with warnings that Hope Hicks's testimony in court today will be a bombshell, what could finally nail Donald Trump on Day 11 of his trial in Manhattan.

This is because… pic.twitter.com/vZGPeZ1zlJ

— Simon Ateba (@simonateba) May 3, 2024

Looked at one way, what the Daily Mail did is just silly. A reporter has the hots for Hope Hicks and got to write his love letter to the world. However, when a paper with this circulation writes that kind of garbage, it’s going to matter, and that’s a real shame.

Image created using a YouTube screen grab, a clipart mustache, and a clipart top hat.