The Shorter, Faster, Cruder, Tinier TV Show

One morning earlier this spring, Dave Sirulnick and a group of fellow MTV executives gathered in a 29th-floor conference room overlooking Times Square to observe a time-honored television ritual, one they'd performed dozens of times. They were shaping a pilot, the hopeful chrysalis of a television show. Three months of hard work and soul searching had gone into this particular effort, so the assembled team waited to see its work in progress with no small amount of anticipation. In these kinds of meetings, someone usually pops the show into a DVD player and it materializes on a flat-screen television the size of a coffee table. But this time the six people in the room ambled over to Sirulnick, a slender man who was peering over a pair of rimless glasses at a small, black Samsung cellphone. "Do we all stand behind each other or what?" he asked, unsure of the protocol. As everyone circled around his chair like kids gawking at a science experiment, Sirulnick pressed a button on the phone, and the tiny screen in his palm flickered to life.

Sway Calloway, top, star of "Sway's Hip-Hop Owner's Manual," MTV's first American series produced for viewing on the screens of mobile phones.

Short-Attention-Span-Theater Consumers in one test said that any show longer than three minutes was simply too long. The rapper E-40, top, appearing on "Sway's Hip-Hop Owner's Manual" to explain the term "stunna shades."

What appeared on it didn't feel much like a TV show as you and I have come to know it. Clocking in at just over three minutes, it seemed vaguely schematic, with lots of close-ups and static scenes. But Sirulnick watched it with the hope that what he was seeing - even through the pixel smears and buffering pauses of today's mobile-video technology - was nothing less than the future of television.

A boyish-looking 41-year-old man wearing jeans and a green-and-purple-striped sweater, Sirulnick was in the room that morning because just a few months earlier MTV redrew its organizational chart and gave him a new job it considers extremely important, one with the unwieldy title of executive vice president for multiplatform production, news and music. Translated, it means that he is the guy responsible for figuring out how his network - one of the most recognizable in the world, with annual ad revenue of more than a billion dollars - will continue to thrive creatively, and thus financially, in a world where television's center of gravity seems to be rapidly shifting, away from immobile TV sets and toward roving screens: laptops, P.D.A.'s, iPods, game players and, most important, cellphones. The shift is not simply changing the way the medium looks and feels. Even now, in its infancy, mobile video is starting to make the very definition of television, as a place where people watch "shows" on "channels," sound pleasantly anachronistic, like a description from an old issue of Popular Mechanics. It may also be creating a new way to make a whole lot of money: one model projects that the worldwide market for mobile television will be billion by 2010.

By the most optimistic counts, there are only about 3 million people out of the almost 200 million cellphone users in the United States who now watch video on their phones. Other analysts say the number of those who watch regularly is much lower, which leads them to ask whether people really want another version of television, one they can literally take anywhere. Judging by what is happening in other parts of the world, where the mobile-television experiment is well under way, the more pertinent questions are: What are they going to want to watch? Will it be regular live television, redirected to their phones? Or typical television fare, edited and re-packaged to suit a screen smaller than a business card? It might end up being neither, but instead a new amalgam that feels little like traditional television and more like the increasingly video-dominated Web - like computer games, like the kind of shaggy user-generated video and mashed-up video clips that began as novelties for people killing time in their cubicles but are now on their way to becoming big business.

MTV's international channels have been providing cellphone entertainment, mostly repackaged TV clips, for almost a year. In fact, MTV claims to be the world's largest mobile-content provider. When the demand for cellular television materializes in the United States, people like Sirulnick say that it is likely to be most intense among the generation of young people that has never known a world without wireless, for whom a cellphone is not just a phone but an entertainment center, a dating service, a scrapbook, a virtual hangout and a fashion statement - in other words, MTV's core viewers, the network's to keep or lose.

Randy Kennedy is a culture reporter for The New York Times.