The Prescient Truman Show

By 1998, “reality television” seemed like a curious media-driven fad that had run its course.  Reality television programming had been a clever idea for network executives to cheaply test out ideas without needing to invest in recurring union actors.  After CBS’ Survivor and Big Brother’s ratings precipitously dropped off, it seemed that the  phenomenon was headed for the dustbin.

However, the eerily prescient 1998 film The Truman Show, starring Jim Carrey, Ed Harris Laura Linney and Paul Giamatti and directed by Peter Weir, is worth re-viewing in light of the resurgent use of reality television and esoteric messaging in the last 15 years.  Indeed, this type of programming resurged in recent years, and now appears to be part of a media-driven social experiment that is here to stay.

The Truman Show’s screenplay was written by Andrew Niccol, who also wrote the 1990’s science fiction film Gattaca that touched on some of the same issues as The Truman Show.

Jim Carrey’s character Truman (“Tru-Man”) Burbank lives in the idyllic town of Seahaven, working as an insurance salesman who is happily married to Meryl, played by Laura Linney.  Truman is the embodiment of American mass-market consumer identity.  In reality, Burbank, California (near Hollywood) is the home of many large television and movie studios, and represents the epitome of American mass media culture where most television game shows have been filmed since the 1950’s.

The New York Times’ movie review described the clever use of garish consumerism in the Truman Show, noting “product plugs are everywhere, since they account for the revenues of the wildly popular “Truman Burbank Show.’”

In his idyllic life, Truman is materially comfortable and has every reason to be.  Seahaven, modeled on Norman Rockwell’s paintings depicting Americana, represents America’s fragile, potentially false sense of economic and spiritual certainty.  Everything you see in the show is for sale.  However, deep down, a gnawing desire to find “The True Man” is eating away at him.

We learn that, for his entire life since he was born, Truman has been living inside a Matrix-like reality television program, created by TV network executive “Christof,” (played by Ed Harris), whose name seems to be a reference to a divine “Christ,” since he possesses virtually divine power over the town Truman’s life.

Ingeniously hidden cameras are omnipresent in Seahaven, recording and broadcasting Truman’s every waking – and sleeping—moment for the conspicuous consumption of eager viewers around the world.  In truth, Truman lives inside of a dome constructed entirely of a fictitious reality, where every single person in his life is an actor or extra.  Even Truman’s childhood friends were planted there by Christof to continue the masquerade.

For Truman, deception is everywhere, and nowhere.  In fact, in Seahaven, even the ocean, sun and moon are not “real,” but are figments of the reality that the television network’s crew has built solely for Truman’s sake, at enormous expense.

Truman grows increasingly disturbed and paranoid, becoming convinced (correctly, of course) that his entire life has been a lie.

The message of the movie is not so much hidden, as cleverly layered:  The “True Man” deep inside of humanity cannot be satisfied with material consumption alone, and perpetually desires to break free from the subjective, but seemingly objective reality that binds us.

The show’s  viewers all cheer Truman’s transcendence when it appears, because we cherish the belief that we remain “free” to exercise our will to escape the brainwashing of modern consumer culture.

When Truman attempts to sail off to uncharted shores, Christof acts as an angry god, summoning terrifying waves and storms to confront Truman in the hope deterring his exploration.  But the obstacle doesn’t work, as Truman’s  spirit and desire to break free from his media-created cocoon is indomitable.

As his boat bumps into the outer limits of his carefully constructed reality, Truman is finally confronted by Christof his creator on a huge speaker system.  Christof offers him the Matrix-like decision to remain in the comfortable reality or break out.  Truman chooses the “blue pill” of transcendent wisdom, even though what lies outside of his safe reality is the ultimate unknown.

Perhaps most prescient are the final moments of the film which act as a profound ironic comic relief.  After the crescendo of Truman choosing to defy his media handlers and find truth, denouement is achieved when a viewer simply changes the channel to see “what else is on.”

Truman’s choice, like ours, is ultimately a product of free human will.  We are not just the byproducts of a consumer culture that “created us,” despite what  advertisers might like.

Yet, the Truman Show reminds us that, while we cherish our fundamental humanity, we also very much enjoy the entertaining and comforting reality created by the media products that we digest regularly.

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