Review: The Truman Show
In a summer of leaping lizards and threatening meteors, there is an oasis and its name is The Truman Show. This is a film that deserves the hallelujahs and hosannas showered upon it; there has not been a film in recent memory that has dared to dream so audaciously and succeeded so victoriously as The Truman Show, uncontestedly the best picture of the year thus far.
Much has already been made of Jim Carrey's bid for dramatic credibility. A maniacally exhibitionistic performer on and off the screen, Carrey has established himself as the rubber-faced, contortionist master of puerile humor in such films as Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and Dumb and Dumber. His deviance from the formula, The Cable Guy, was misleadingly deemed a failure and is used by Hollywood as evidence of the audience's unwillingness to accept Carrey as anything other than a wild and crazy guy. Let's debunk this myth: first of all, The Cable Guy was not a failure; its $60-80 million domestic gross may not have been as stellar as Carrey's other films (most of which have generated over $100 million in box-office receipts) but that hardly qualifies it as a flop. Secondly, and most importantly, it was a dark farce improperly marketed as a Jim Carrey vehicle. Thirdly, it was the first film for which Carrey was paid $20 million, an added onus for both film and star. Was The Cable Guy such a stretch anyway? No, if anything, it was an extension of Batman and Robin's The Riddler. It was also a welcome return to the deliciously malevolent streak he displayed on the television sketch show, In Living Color.
Truman Burbank is a risky proposition for Carrey. Truman is an Everyman; there is no room for Carrey to go on his fanciful comic tangents. Carrey must remain grounded and introverted himself as well as be a team player. He comes through winningly under the guidance of director Peter Weir. Weir has a great track record of aiding such transformations: he showcased Mad Max Mel Gibson's talents in the lyrical Gallipoli; Indiana Jones Harrison Ford would undergo a similar makeover in Witness; Frenchmen Gérard Depardieu made a thoroughly charming American debut in Green Card; Rosie Perez toned down her spitfire ways and earned an Oscar nomination for her wrenching supporting turn in Fearless; funnyman Robin Williams cemented the dramatic potential he showed in Barry Levinson's Good Morning, Vietnam with another Oscar-nominated portrayal in Dead Poets Society.
"We've become bored with actors giving us false emotions," Christof (Ed Harris), the televisionary who helms The Truman Show, explains. "While the world he inhabits is counterfeit, there is nothing fake about Truman." Indeed, this true man is an unwitting star in his very own Studio City. Everyone he knows, from his mother and wife to the strangers he passes on the street, is in on the joke. How Truman comes to realize his unique and unusual situation is the heart of this cautionary, provocative fable.
The Truman Show works on so many different levels that it nearly dizzies the brain. On one hand, it's a pointed commentary on the way the media has infiltrated our life, how the line between reality and entertainment has been blurred, how privacy is a nearly abolished right, hw we are responsible for how far the media goes in bringing us a story: if people didn't watch Truman, he'd have a normal life. On another level, it's another reworking of God and Jesus, with Christof as Creator and Truman as the son serving his father's purpose. On yet another level, it's a comment on how film and television manipulate our emotions. Yet another level, it offers a very universal story of a man stalled in life -- Truman is stuck in one town, a dead-end job and a loveless marriage to a relentlessly chirpy wife (Laura Linney in a corrosive performance). He dreams of going to Fiji and reuniting with his true love (Natasha McElhone), an extra who spoiled the script by genuinely falling in love with Truman. Yet he can't overcome his fear of water, a fear installed by the "death" of his father and reinforced by news reports and posters in travel agencies warning of air, land and sea disasters.
Exhilirating scenes abound but I would be remiss if I didn't single out the sequence which jumpstarts Truman's suspicions. Driving to work one morning, he's alarmed to discover a voice in the car radio (the dashboard conceals a camera) charting his every turn. The frequency glitches again, causing all of the people on the street to stop for a minute. Truman gets out of his car, his suspicions increasing with each breath. He looks around his sunny world and seems to see it for the first time. The sequence, which continues for several more minutes, is almost noir in its sense of breathless suspense -- call it a film blanc.
Andrew Niccol's previous screenplay (and directorial debut) was the sci-fi paranoid drama, Gattaca, which told of a man trying to escape his controlling world. The similarly themed The Truman Show is a darker, riskier, more fantastic extension of that premise. Niccol is fast establishing himself as a screenwriter par excellence. The details, the intricacies, the precious nuggets that you scour in most screenplays are all contained here. Few films manage to be unpredictable; with Truman, you never quite know what's around the corner.
Weir unfolds the truth with precise timing. The audience may be in on the joke at the outset but we're just as surprised, baffled and terrified as Truman is when he discovers the truth. As always, Weir elicits excellent performances from his cast. Harris deserves another Oscar nomination as the stonehearted Christof. There's a wonderful weariness in his body language, as if he'd seen it all...but through a prison of his own. Noah Emmerich, as Truman's best friend, also deserves praise for his deceptively sincere performance. During one scene, he assures Truman that the world isn't conspiring against him; this heartfelt monologue is soon revealed to be a dupe, Christof has been feeding him the words to say to Truman.
Carrey is nothing short of a revelation. He imbues Truman with an almost ferocious melancholy that becomes more poignant as the film progresses. At one point he asks Linney's Meryl, "Why do you want to have a baby with me? You can't stand me." The words have never sounded so painfully, piercingly human. This from a performer who talked out of his derriere! Then again, Carrey the man listens to Chet Baker and is set to play Andy Kaufman in an upcoming film to be directed by Milos Forman. Baker and Kaufman were dark, doomed souls. Why should we be surprised at our journey to the heart of his darkness?
The Truman Show
Directed by: Peter Weir
Written by: Andrew Niccol
Starring: Jim Carrey, Ed Harris, Natascha McElhone, Laura Linney, Noah Emmerich
