'The Truman Show' Was Prophetic

Peter Weir's The Truman Show, written by science fiction screenwriter Andrew Niccol (Gattaca, In Time), is remembered for several things. Its tiny, embedded cameras in every nook and cranny of the artificial city Seahaven; its unbelievably large-scale simulated reality inside a giant movie set; and Truman's increasing paranoia that his world is unreal. Enough has been written on these subjects and the movie's presaging of reality TV and ubiquitous advertising, and its religious overtones, that the film is almost not worth discussing any further. Almost. But, two things occur to me that are often overlooked in critiques of the film. One deals with the delusion or collective hallucination of Truman's audience; and the other has to do with the character Cristof.

As the megalomaniacal creator and showrunner of The Truman Show, Cristof peers down at Truman from his live TV control room. He plays Truman's life as though he were the conductor of a symphonic orchestra. Intent on showing the "real" life of someone in a total way, Cristof creates a false reality for not only Truman and the audience, but himself. As he says in the film, "We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented.” Ironic coming from him.

Often compared to god in the film, Cristof is far less often viewed as a Big Brother. That is because while his imprint is everywhere, his image is nowhere. Truman has no idea Cristof even exists. The idea of an artificial utopia or satire of the American Dream-as-dystopia is also apparent to the viewer. But, what we might miss while thinking of Cristof is the words he uses. Maybe that's because we, as viewers, are also wrapped up in the spectacle of the film. We are busy being entertained and moved. Cristof's vocabulary echoes some of the common themes we recognize in national security language. Several of his statements and observations hit at the security vs. liberty debate Benjamin Franklin addressed in his time, and which we still grapple with in the post-9/11 years.

Much of The Truman Show is about security and fear. That is today's real value of the film. Reality TV is old news. So is religion. But, we're just beginning to deal with the problem of a vast, god-like, Big Brother surveillance culture.

So when Cristof delivers the following lines, we can almost hear the filmmakers' surveillance critique (given that Niccol is a total SF geek):

“I have given Truman the chance to lead a normal life. The world, the place you live in, is the sick place.”

“As the show expanded, naturally we were forced to manufacture ways to keep Truman in Seahaven, demonstrating that every venture is accompanied by a risk.”

“I know you better than you know yourself… you're afraid, that's why you can't leave.”

“I think what really distresses you, caller, is that ultimately Truman prefers the comfort of his 'cell' as you call it.”

Cristof, in assessing Truman's desire to leave the safety and security of Seatown, says something that we could all adopt as our mantra: “If his was more than just a vague ambition, if he was absolutely determined to discover the truth, there's no way we could prevent him.” Like Truman, we can choose to walk out that door and discover the truth. Not physically, but by questioning reality. Most of us are content to accept reality as-is. We very often don't resist. On a large scale, it's too difficult or painful to consider whether or not we as communities, states, nations, etc., are okay with the way technology affects society (privacy, for one). It's even harder to change it. But, the drive to resist and change starts with the individual.

One of the other great satirical notions of The Truman Show isn't that we were heading toward a world where we would, like Truman, all be voyeurs who are ourselves constantly being watched. What is far more interesting is that the movie's TV audience assumes that they aren't already under a Truman-style surveillance, too; stunned as they are by the daily spectacle of their favorite TV personality. Their gaze and attention is drawn to Truman and away from any thoughts that each of them could be subjected to the same treatment. For all we know, the world outside the surveillance bubble of Seatown could be exactly the same—minus the reality TV show.

In the movie, Truman's life is an epic distraction. We never see the TV show's fans and/or casual observers involved in anything else. They live through Truman and his world; as their world is now somehow less real and vital. This parallels quite nicely with how we behave in the real world. Until someone like Edward Snowden awakens us, for example, we exist in a sort of collective hallucination. We are tranquilized and distracted by quick fixes of pleasure and gratification. We gaze at video after video on YouTube. We observe the lives of friends, family, and acquaintances on Facebook. Like an audience at a magic show, we are dazzled by misdirection. But, you know, it's all good because it's harmless entertainment, and we all want it. This is nothing new, but with something as powerful as the internet, we have to ask if that distraction and apathy is more of a problem than ever.

It isn't that some grand conspiracy creates this spectacle. The watchmen (NSA, for instance) make use of our collective addiction to sensation, like fruit flies are drawn to sugar. We are all useful idiots.