Video: New red carpet hosts Chris Harrison and Carrie Ann Inaba gear up for the Emmys

The 2009 Emmys are only days away, and although most of the focus is -- naturally -- on the ceremony itself (who will win, who will lose and who will say what), "The Bachelor" host Chris Harrison and "Dancing With the Stars" judge Carrie Ann Inaba are a lot more worried about the pre-show on the red carpet. Understandably so because the Emmys will mark the pair's first time as red carpet hosts for TV Guide Network.

Harrison and Inaba have worked together only once before, co-hosting the 2008 American Music Awards. However, judging from our footage, these two TV personalities already have a strong rapport in addition to their extensive experience to make sure Sunday's broadcast go as smooth as live TV can go.

In this first of four clips, the duo talk about how they came to be TV Guide's new red carpet hosts and Harrison talks about the new side of Inaba viewers will see Sunday.

Report from the Emmys Pleasure Dome

The theme of this year's Governors Ball, held after the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences' Creative Arts Primetime Emmys on Sept. 20 is "Let There Be Color," with Samuel Taylor Coleridge's "Kubla Khan" ("In Xanadu did Kubla Khan / A stately pleasure dome decree") as inspiration. And as I wind my way through traffic on Thursday on my way to the cavernous depths of the Los Angeles Convention Center, where the ball will be held, I can't help thinking about the names this theme evokes in me. I'm thinking Kenneth Anger, Orson Welles and Olivia Newton-John.

As it stands, the Anger comparison is perhaps the most apt, at least visually -- the entirety of the center's West Hall A has been steeped in a sort of candy-colored homage to MGM's "Arabian Nights" pictures, with a touch of Vegas VIP rooms for flavor. The color scheme can be best described as Decor by Life-Savers - everywhere is lime, orange, grape and tropical punch (or blue-raspberry - I'm a little colorblind). Two thousand yards of Fortuny-style patterned silk are tented above my head and those of the media streaming through the cavernous room, while 48 oversized hanging lanterns dangle like jellyfish from the ceilings.

At the center of the room, a colossal rotating dais is buttressed on every side by overstuffed purple love seats, and atop it, a pianist works through 1960s-cool renditions of "Nature Boy" and "Quiet Nights (Corcovado)." The walls are steeped in black with twinkling lights to approximate stars, while at opposite corners, seeming miles away, are lounges, stocked with a flotilla of glasses, and lighted to create the right degree of anonymity mixed with "Hey, is that who I think it is?" One half expects Cornel Wilde to knife-ride down one of the silk drapings (much to the chagrin of the workers who made them, no doubt), tumble artfully to the floor, and then perhaps do the Hustle.