White House Correspondent Association dinner veterans say the annual D.C. celebrity fest may be past its prime. | Composite image by POLITICO Has the party lasted too long?

All over Washington, 20-somethings are busy laying out outfits and organizing game plans in hopes of running into Ben Affleck or Ashton Kutcher.

They have reason to be excited: In a town where fashion places second — or third or fourth — behind fiscal stimulus and hip takes a backseat to House resolutions, the weekend of parties and celebrity sightings surrounding the White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner provides a rare bit of excitement and glamour.


But there are also plenty of graybeards doing what graybeards always do: declare that it’s “just not what it used to be.”

“This one may be reaching past its prime,” said Qorvis’ Chuck Conconi, who spent years covering the event for Washingtonian and The Washington Post. “It’s one hell of an evening, but I think that it’s overkill. ... I don’t think it serves a purpose other than being a kind of cheerleading for journalists. ... It’s a lot of strutting and showmanship.”

To be sure, the WHCA weekend in its current form really isn’t what it used to be. What was once a more modest, clubby, local party dominated by print news outlets has evolved into a pricey, multiday, star-filled spectacle that garners the obsessive attention of countless TV networks, websites and newspapers — including this one, of course.

“The dinner was always a big print evening,” said ABC’s Ann Compton, who recently served as the WHCA’s president. “But some people now see the TV and cable networks as the dominant players, buying more tables, getting better seats, holding more receptions. There was less Hollywood — except for the entertainer.”

“Back in the Pleistocene Age — before C-SPAN and Clinton — it was a determinedly nonglitzy affair,” Newsweek’s Howard Fineman said in an e-mail. “There was little coverage, and certainly no live TV coverage; the Clinton-based mix of showbiz people and California Democratic money hadn’t yet materialized. Guests were supposed to be newsworthy or behind-the-news types. My first bureau chief at Newsweek, the legendary Mel Elfin, used to advise against trying to bring big-name guests. Better to bring a midlevel person who might really appreciate it.”

But after the late Michael Kelly, then with The Baltimore Sun, invited Iran-Contra news hottie Fawn Hall as a bit of a goof, the glitz was turned on full throttle.

“I still invited presidential wannabes,” said Fineman, “but I happily began veering off into Hollywood-on-the-Potomac: Alec Baldwin and his then-wife Kim Basinger, Michael Douglas, Bo Derek and Meg Ryan. ... I admit to enjoying it all.” This year, Fineman said, he’s bringing “Athenian goddess” Arianna Huffington.

Some, of course, maintain that the weekend’s ridiculousness has always been there. “It was pretty much Ringling Bros. when I started doing it a dozen years ago,” said Washington Post columnist Dana Milbank. “I think it lost its charm for me when the audience talked over Ray Charles like he was some bad lounge act. I believe this contributed to his death.”

And, yet, while the festivities have become more fabulous, they have also become less fun for some. Yes, the “prom” circus has helped make both Washington and politics more sexy, but it has also engendered a bit of eye-rolling fatigue among those who aren’t up for 10 parties in four days or who feel like their precious baby has been taken away from them and turned into an insatiable monster.

Gossip columnists charged with covering the weekend once thought it an annual highlight; now they groan for months ahead of it, knowing all too well what’s in store.

“Compared to 30 years ago, the dinner has become a goofy, mashed-up free-for-all that has little in common with its original purpose: a chance for White House print reporters to take a source out to an ‘off the record’ dinner,” said WHCA Dinner veteran Carol Joynt, who currently chronicles Washington social life for the New York Social Diary website. “But everybody loves it when the circus comes to town, and this is the Washington media’s circus.”

The dinner has some strikes against it. It faces stiff competition from the plethora of pre- and post-parties. It’s expensive — $200 a pop for long lines, average food and wine, security checks, packed seating, and waiters who always seem as if they’re about to drop a tray of surf ’n’ turf in your lap. And its main event — a comedy routine from a recognized comedian — dies as often as it kills.

All of this, of course, misses the dinner’s most long-standing critique: that it exemplifies the cozy, compromised relationship between journalists and government types, to the detriment of both. The New York Times got repulsed enough with the scene that it sat out last year’s dinner and said it will do the same on Saturday night.

“People who object on those grounds live in a cave,” said Air America’s Ana Marie Cox, adding, “Do they think that if there wasn’t a dinner, we’d never find a way to talk to them?”

Fineman also thinks the criticisms are slightly misplaced.

“I’m not one of those hypocritical Washington journalists who claims to hate the dinner,” he said. “It is what it is: a silly, fun group grope. Is it dangerous for us to regard ourselves as public figures? Yes and no. Depends on whether you can take pride in your reporting and writing and yakking. Are we too close to the people we cover? Yes, but that is a far deeper problem than the dinner itself. And for all of our faults — and we have many, the first five years of the Bush administration being chief among them — I’d still rather spend time with fellow journalists (even the Washington variety) than any other slice of humanity I can think of.”

This year’s dinner has one significant thing working in its favor: the Obama factor.

Will it make a difference, even for those who say the dinner has run its course?

Consider: Unlike his predecessor, Barack Obama is popular with Americans and journalists alike — no small feat — which could remove the layer of uncomfortable resentment that seemed to float above President George W. Bush’s last few WHCA dinners. And Obama seems comfortable around reporters and is a more social creature generally, having hosted regular cocktail parties at the White House and ventured into Washington on several occasions. There’s even been the occasional drink, something Bush always avoided.

And then there’s the Hollywood factor. Perhaps no politician has ever enjoyed such popular support among celebrities, which would explain why this year’s roster of A-list attendees is the strongest yet: Jon Bon Jovi, George Lucas, Glenn Close, Steven Spielberg, Sting, Brooke Shields, Mike Myers, Warren Buffett, Whoopi Goldberg, William H. Macy and Jennifer Garner just scratch the surface.

Ultimately, all of that WHCA fatigue — however real — could have a very simple explanation: malaise. After eight years of the same president, the same power players and the same White House correspondents, the scene will inevitably grow weary, routine and tired.

“On the first year of every new administration, there is a blitz of activity,” said The Ashcroft Group’s Juleanna Glover, who fondly recalls attending the Bush administration’s first WHCA dinner. “And then it reverts back to the more predictable pattern. ... This year will be much more interesting from a people-watching perspective. There’s a whole new raft of the next generation that’s come to town and, for them, this will be a fantastically fun evening.”

By the end of this weekend, partygoers will likely adopt the same attitude they do every year: Sure, it was a chaotic, crazy mess, but it was our mess.

Longtime Washington Post and Orlando Sentinel scribe Annie Groer asks, “Has the boldface thing gotten out of hand? Of course. But it seems harmless enough, given the celebrification of the universe.”

“It is ridiculous,” said Cox. “But that doesn’t mean that you can’t like it.”