"It's a good thing for ITVS to score successes and bring in good ratings with programs that are acceptable for everyone. I understand that," Kleiman says. "But I wouldn't want that to be the model for every show they fund. I want ITVS to fund classical documentaries as much as innovative ones ... that do not so immediately dovetail into the American dream. And like any investment, they should have a fair amount of safe ventures, while sprinkling in some high-risk ones. I hope ITVS will hold on to their visionary roots and not abandon the full spectrum of what's possible."
Although it may appear that ITVS has retreated far from its early efforts to shake up public television, even the new and safer ITVS offers more avant-garde programming than the PBS schedule is comfortable with. Indeed, ITVS programming head Liu thinks of himself as an agent of change in public television. And there is a record to back that thinking: Liu has pushed to fund programs he believes in, even when he knows he will have a hard time convincing PBS to air them. Travis, for example, tells the story of a 6-year-old boy living with full-blown AIDS. PBS rejected it for the national feed; the film went on to win a Peabody Award, the nation's most prestigious television journalism honor.
Photography by Anthony Pidgeon
The Independent Televison Service staff works under the slogan "Change TV."
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"PBS still won't take shows they think are problematic in their eyes, and if PBS could be assured every show would win a Peabody, they might think differently," Liu says. "As PBS recognizes we are about good programs and good stories, they will take the leap with us, because we add to the scope of what they are not in the habit of doing."
In the meantime, ITVS continues its delicate balancing act, hoping to change public television while looking out for the next hit.
"We want to be inclusive, and not pay attention to ratings, and have a distinct voice, and be seen as different, adding an element not on public TV. But the last thing you want to do is spend a lot of money and energy on a film, and have no possibility of it being shown," Liu says. "To survive we need successful broadcasts with the largest audience possible, and there lies the apparent contradiction. We are not part of the system, but in many ways we are, because we have to be."
David Liu's office displays some of the dishevelment normally associated with an artist at work. He sits at his desk, surrounded by proposals, videotapes, and chicken-scrawl notes. A screening cart with television monitor and VCR is never more than a short extension cord away. A constant stream of stories and images is filtered through his oversized glasses, which announce through just one attribute -- bright red, tear-drop shaped frames -- that this is not the face of an accountant, but an artiste.
As the executive in charge of programming, much of Liu's vision will determine the look, image, and future of ITVS. He ponders what he has helped create. "It's very hard to describe our range," he says. "We're all over the fucking place -- oh, excuse my language."
Liu, who has been in the business more than 20 years, seems to need to remind himself that he now plays a very grown-up role in the avant-garde, liberal world of filmmaking he comes from: Part artist and part bureaucrat, navigating the highly politicized realm of public television while trying to stay true to the original ITVS mandate.
From a possible documentary on intersex people to children's animated shorts, Liu talks about what projects excite him and how ITVS can offer out-of-the-ordinary programs that can make a difference. "The best of our programs, if they don't give a lot of answers, they at least raise a lot of questions," he says. "And when we say we are edgy and take risks, we mean in form as well as content. Taking risks is not depending on cliches."
Taped on the wall over Liu's desk is a poster for the G-rated movie Babe, which followed the adventures of an orphaned pig who is taken in by an eccentric farmer.
"That picture reminds me of something very sweet," Liu says, looking up over his shoulder at the smiling pig. "You know, the good stuff we should be aiming for."
And today, Liu is ecstatic over a proposal on his desk called Still Life With Animated Dogs. It is a cartoon that promises, with a sense of humor, to "present one artist's observations of people, dogs, and things of a divine nature."
Liu is sold.
"Now that's edgy!"
