He’s the Insurance Policy

Soft-spoken and almost professorial, A. Fredric Leopold isn’t someone you’d be apt to associate with the madcap world of unscripted television. An 81-year-old grandfather and former mayor of Beverly Hills, he would look out of place among the sun-drenched bodies on Fox’s “Temptation Island,” the grittiness of “Cops” or those crazy kids on MTV’s “The Real World.”

Yet producers characterize Leopold as one of the most influential people in this burgeoning genre, given that he often is the final arbiter determining whether programs featuring hidden cameras or ordinary people in precarious situations are insurable, something networks require to feel comfortable putting them on the air.

A partner in the Century City law firm Leopold, Petrich & Smith, Leopold is hired by producers or insurance companies to assess risks on movies and TV shows; he’s one of a very few people specializing in that arena. The pickings are even slimmer in terms of unscripted programs, which open the door to all kinds of litigation. As a result, very little gets on the air that doesn’t come under Leopold’s gaze.

“The networks require every production company to get an ‘errors and omissions’ policy, and in order to get that policy, he’s the gatekeeper,” said Dave Harding, a producer who recently dealt with Leopold on the UPN special “When Chefs Attack: Hidden Video of America’s Scariest Restaurants.”

As noted in a Times article several years ago, posters from movies Leopold has worked on line the hallways of his firm’s office, mementos of past battles.

No trophies from TV shows with which he has been involved--from “Cops” to CBS’ “Big Brother”--yet occupy such places of distinction; still, his desk, piled high with documents, betrays some evidence of his evolving business, with the video “Girls Gone Wild 3: Spring Break Uncensored” incongruously sitting atop one of the stacks.

Though he has to watch tapes only in special circumstances, Leopold is regularly retained to evaluate proposals in terms of the legal risks. Networks insist on insurance to reduce their liability, and Leopold will frequently suggest amending a program in one way or another to reduce the insurer’s exposure.

“There’s always at least the potential for conflict between the desire of the producer to be sensational and attract the audience and the desire of the legal and business staff to make sure they don’t get into trouble,” Leopold explained.

“I try not to say ‘no’ if at all possible. It has to be a pretty extreme case. . . . I do make an effort to get things through rather than block them. I try to find a way. Usually I find the producers and their representatives are pretty cooperative.”

Of course, they have their pragmatic reasons. As Harding put it, “The last thing I want to do is walk into a problem where I don’t have Fred and the insurance agency behind me.”

Leopold added that case law on these issues is constantly changing, as are the format of programs and the venues in which they are shown, from cable to streaming video on the Internet.

In hidden-camera shows, questions surround how information is obtained: whether a producer intrudes on privacy or uses illegal methods such as long-range lenses and enhanced listening devices. People featured are given release forms to sign before footage is used, though even that doesn’t always forestall the possibility of a lawsuit.

Leopold cited one case, for example, in which a young woman was shown as she was taken into an emergency room while on drugs. Although she signed a consent form, the showing of the program inspired a relative to withhold a family inheritance. The woman sued, claiming she was under the influence when she consented.

With programs such as “Survivor,” people know going in that they are potentially putting themselves in peril.

“Then the problem is making sure that the release is broad enough to cover what you’re doing and where you’re going to distribute the [production]. That’s just a matter of drafting the so-called release,” Leopold said.

Insurance policies for such programs are not unusually expensive, generally costing less than $10,000. If an insurer is uncomfortable with elements of a show, however, certain areas can be excluded or deductibles can be raised.

Indeed, in the case of shows that push the envelope in terms of standards, Leopold noted, such as Jerry Springer’s talk show, deductibles are often elevated “for therapeutic reasons. If a company or an individual thinks they’re going to have to pay the first $500,000, it’s a lot different than if they’re going to pay the first $10,000.”

The actual content must also be scrutinized, which includes everything from splashy network fare to biographical documentaries such as A&E;’s “Biography” and “E! True Hollywood Story.”

“There’s always the problem of the people you don’t get releases from that are spoken of on the program. Someone can get up there and say, ‘That damn ex-wife of mine. What a gold digger.’ You have to watch out for that kind of thing too,” Leopold said, adding that producers need “substantial secondary evidence of what the [claim] is. If there isn’t, you have to take it out.”

Even with release forms in hand, litigation can ensue. In fact, “Cops” producer John Langley says he recently squandered $10,000 defending a lawsuit filed by someone who confused his series with another still-unidentified show.

“It’s utterly absurd,” Langley said. “It’s a minefield out there, at least in the reality television genre.”

Though much of this programming is clearly not Leopold’s personal cup of tea, he appears unfazed by people’s willingness to sign release forms, even when presented in a less-than-flattering light.

“I would remind you of an old Hollywood adage: It’s better to be looked over than overlooked,” he said. “It’s surprising what people will do to be able to point out to their friends, ‘There I am on television.’ It’s not as difficult to get those releases as you would think.”

Leopold repeatedly counsels producers to err on the side of caution, pointing to the cyclical nature of the legal process. Major lawsuits have sent at least temporary shock waves through the television industry, such as the $25-million civil verdict against the “Jenny Jones” show in 1999, rendered after a 1995 incident in which one guest murdered another in the wake of a “secret crushes” episode.

“It’ll take one whopping big judgment to scare everybody,” Leopold said, referring to the current tide of unscripted shows. “That usually brings people to attention and makes them start thinking.”