DC Film Society: Adam's Rib March 2024

Modern Classics - The Truman Show

The Truman Show, 1998 – Directed by Peter Weir. Written by Andrew Niccol. Produced by Edward S. Feldman, Andrew Niccol, Lynn Pleshette, Richard Luke Rothschild, Scott Rudin, and Adam Schroeder. Key Cast: Jim Carrey, Laura Linney, Ed Harris, Noah Emmerich, Natascha McElhone, Holland Taylor, Brian Delate, Peter Krause, Paul Giamatti, Harry Shearer, Adam Tomei, and Philip Baker Hall.

On a ten-year anniversary DVD of The Truman Show, some of the film’s stars discussed how prescient it proved to be. The actors referred only to “reality” TV shows, which had begun when The Truman Show hit theaters, but abounded by 2008. Those shows made stars out of so many people with no discernable talents other than that they were on TV. The public’s fascination with the Kardashians, Snooki, and the others demonstrated the vicarious living that The Truman Show skewered so brilliantly. Still, those involved with the film had no idea that in another ten years social media would make reality TV seem like child’s play. Now everyone could be Truman Burbank, broadcasting every aspect of their lives for the world to see.

In 1976, Sidney Lumet’s Network foreshadowed the blurring between TV news and entertainment. Twenty-two years later The Truman Show foreshadowed the blurring between fiction and reality, not just on television but in the media everywhere. It anticipated that what’s presented as “real” can be pre-selected and engineered so that objectively its meaningless. But subjectively, it can manipulate consumers into buying products or certain notions disguised as fact.

As with Network, one of the reasons The Truman Show has resonated so long is its impeccable execution. On the surface Peter Weir, who had directed The Year of Living Dangerously, Witness, and The Mosquito Coast, might have seemed like an odd choice to helm a film with so much comedy. But Weir had a background in sketch comedy, and added much more humor than what was originally in the script. He changed the setting from a fake New York City to Seahaven Island, a fake oceanside community.

Weir and his team, through the lighting and production design, created a world convincing enough that we could believe Truman accepts it as real, but also off-kilter just enough that we in the audience recognize it as fake. Cinematographer Peter Biziou filled the Seahaven Island scenes with bright artificial light, befitting a town made for television. Even though we are in the know, much of the fun comes from discovering the truth along with Turman. Weir let that realization slowly creep in, and deftly folded in the TV show’s producers and actors straining to maintain the illusion. He used camera placement to mirror the many TV cameras capturing Truman’s every move.

The film also brilliantly satirized product placement, subtly by placing product names in the background and having Truman’s “best friend” Marlon always hold beer with the label to the camera. Even funnier are the scenes with Truman’s “wife” Meryl loudly singing the praises of food and household appliances to a befuddled Truman who doesn’t realize those messages are meant for the viewers at home.

Just as Weir evoked a tender performance from Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society, he got Jim Carrey to give some of his most nuanced and layered work here. At that point in the 1990s Carrey was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood through hits such as Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, The Mask, and Batman Forever. In those movies, along with the underrated dark comedy The Cable Guy, Carrey specialized in broad, over-the-top characters that are often performing for others in their scenes. Weir got Carrey to dial the schtick down, to more gently tap into the sense that his character is also performing, even if he doesn’t know it. Carrey’s Truman Burbank frequently uses what The Beatles called “the face in the jar by the door.”

Carrey also played the straight man at times, particularly with Laura Linney as Meryl. For a supremely talented actress like Linney, playing a bad actress must have been a challenge. But she pulled it off with comedic chops she hasn’t shown before or since. On the other end of the spectrum, Ed Harris (who replaced Dennis Hopper) shone as “The Truman Show” creator/showrunner Christof by playing it totally serious. The show is such a fantastic concept that we needed the gravitas Harris brought to accept what’s going on. We believe it because Christof believes it.

All these years later, social media has turned so many into a combination of Truman and Christof, deciding to share everything their kids do, what they ate for dinner, or sometimes medical procedures. Ever since the 1960s people have become paranoid about the government destroying privacy, but it turns out the government wasn’t needed. People voluntarily give up their privacy to get more “likes” or other signs of approval. But what are we actually seeing? What’s resulted from this oversharing? A better understanding of the world around us? No, in some ways quite the opposite.

Early in the film Christof says “While the world he inhabits is, in some respects, counterfeit, there's nothing fake about Truman himself. No scripts, no cue cards. It isn’t always Shakespeare, but it’s genuine. It’s a life.” That’s a lie. Christof and his team shape everything Truman does and experiences. Still, the many “Truman Show” viewers accept the show as reality, even if on some level they know it’s fake. That resonates even more today as what reality is somehow became debatable. Through social media and skewed media outlets lies become facts, or “alternative facts.” Some of this is deliberate deception but much of it is our wanting to believe as real that which makes us comfortable, just as Truman’s viewers do. Towards the end of the film, Christof tells Truman “There's no more truth out there than there is in the world I created for you. The same lies. The same deceit.” In 1998, this felt like simply something Christof says in a desperate attempt to get Truman to stay. In 2024, Christof might have a valid point.

Like many of the best films, The Truman Show reveals new layers the more you see it. Recently I watched “The Power of Film,” on Turner Classic Movies. Throughout the documentary Professor Howard Suber explains how great cinema can tap into our basic fears and desires. From the beginning of The Truman Show, Truman wants to travel. Of course, he can’t because he needs to stay in the fake world created for him. As that world starts to unravel, his desire to flee only grows, but he’s always pushed back. Now I’m assuming that no one reading this is, wittingly or unwittingly, a reality TV show star. But how many of us feel trapped sometimes, either by life circumstances, debts or decisions we made? With his last attempt to escape, Truman literally crashes into the wall at the end of his world. In the film’s most indelible image, Truman pounds furiously against that wall. Sometimes I feel like pounding on that wall.

Film so often becomes wish fulfillment. As the line between truth and fiction fades, we can become trapped in the worlds we have created for ourselves. We can become trapped by our own preconceptions and habits. We can become trapped in the performances we put on for others. Truman escapes his trap. We don’t know what’s waiting for him on the other side and it doesn’t really matter. He fulfills our wish. In the film, the show’s viewers rejoice at his victory then quickly see what else is on. We in the audience go back to our own realities, while somewhere, maybe deep, deep down, we are still banging on that wall.

Adam Spector
March 1, 2024