The Truman Show: Life, Love, and the American Sitcom

The Truman Show is one of the films that I will watch anytime it’s on television. To remind those who’ve seen the movie, and to spoil it for those who haven’t the film explores the life of Truman Burbank, insurance salesman, who unbeknownst to him, has been the subject of his own television show since before he was born. Truman lives, works, and sleeps with cameras watching his every move. His entire world is straight out of Leave it to Beaver, complete with ad placements. Everything is pristine, precise, and perfect. The master orchestrator of Truman’s world is Christof. Every moment of Truman’s world has been planned out by Christof and his crew (including Paul Giamatti before we all realized how great he truly was.) Eventually, Truman begins to suspect something and tries to escape, but Christof, acting as an overprotective father, wants to protect Truman and the national phenomenon he’s created. As his world continually conspires against him, Truman plans and implements his escape. Finally, Truman finds the edge of his flat world in the form of a door to the outside world. Before he opens the door, though, Christof intervenes one last time, in his last ditch effort to save Truman’s bubble. He finally speaks to Truman, from an invisible control room, telling Truman once and for all how he feels, what he’s done, and why he’s done it. He begs Truman to stay where it is safe, where he can be protected, where he can be loved by millions. Truman considers this for a moment. He sees the entirety of the world he knows, of his past, of everything he ever knew to be true, and finally decides to leave it all behind with a bow and a catchphrase.

Now, first I must admit that I don’t know that I would have this kind of strength. To be able to leave everything you have, everyone you know, everything you’ve ever believed in behind to walk out a door that could lead you anywhere or nowhere? I confess that I would at the very least hesitate. That being said, though, Truman’s journey is also the same one we go through in life. In the end, we all walk out a door into the unknown, leaving everything behind us. Truman’s world, though, despite what Christof says, is far from perfect, and truly, could never be perfect. The dome, being built by man, will, inevitably, fail like man. First it’s a falling light fixture, then a botched line, then driving a car too far, and so on and so on. Life is not neat. It cannot be accounted for by television producers. The brilliance of “The Truman Show” lies in its deconstruction of what many consider to be the perfect America, the one shown in our living rooms every night from 8 until 11 P.M. Everything works out fine, there’s never any danger, and we all get a good laugh. What Christof and the audience fail to remember all too often is that man was not meant to live in a cage. Being confined is not a natural state for us. Truman, eventually, understands that his world is a lie because he has desires that put him in danger. He wants to break the monotony, to face his fears, to explore what he doesn’t know. This is what we all want, and when we are denied, our spirit refuses to let us quit. Something innate in us tells us that our lives were not meant to be lived in plastic. Truman’s world is based on an idealized vision of a normal life, when, in fact, the normal life is nothing like this at all. The world that was built for Truman cannot be sustained.

Truman, though, doesn’t realize for almost thirty years that his life is a lie. While, eventually, we realize some things don’t make sense, we initially accept what we’re presented, with little skepticism or doubt. How would he have known that there was something wrong? Truman also isn’t the only person that was affected by his perfect little world. Truman Burbank, in the film, was the focal point of millions of lives for decades. For some, he was merely entertainment, for others an obsession, and for others a meal ticket, but everyone felt some connection to him. But Christof wasn’t the only one who felt a connection to Truman. The people watching him, from their television sets or from their monitors in the control room seem to be closer to him than the people he knew in the show. The people who got the closest to him had the most trouble, I suppose, because they had been living off of a lie for most of their lives and viewed Truman less as a human being than a prop that had to be dragged by his tail to for a scene. It’s not that they lost their humanity; it’s that they became desensitized to what they were doing. It was business as usual every day for thirty years to deceive Truman. That has to take a toll on a person. It’s worth noting here that actors are professional liars, so, to them, this is just another day at the office. When the actors form a search party to go find Truman, the dog we have seen throughout the rest of the film is almost unrecognizable because every time we’ve seen him before then, he’s wagging his tail, running, and jumping like what’s expected out of a good dog. When we see him in the hunting party, however, his teeth are bared and the handler has to fight to keep control of the leash. Truman was these people’s meal ticket and now that he’s gone missing, they let down the charade.

The saving grace for Truman, the piece that no one, not the people he believed to be his family and friends, or even his equivalent of God, could take from him was his memories and his desire to stretch beyond his realm. Stagnation is not a natural state of existence, and for Truman he finds a piece of the outside world to cling to and he refuses to let go. Truman’s little vice in his world, is that he purchases women’s fashion magazines, and puts together an image of a woman he loved but never truly met. Truman questions his existence like any other human being, and begins to face the realization that is almost impossible to accept: that he was wrong about everything and everyone else has been involved in a plot against him. If this were truly the case, if the entire world was against us, there would, really, be no way to tell. We would, more than likely, continue questioning what was going on without ever truly being able to break free.

All of this reflects back to the underlying levels of truth that lay in Truman’s world. Truman scratches the surface and then is diligent enough to find the answers he’s so desperately wanted, and those answers are that there is someone watching him, that he is important, and that he is loved. Christof is an imperfect creator, and so, even though he loves Truman, his love is flawed. He loves Truman not just for who he is, but also because of the success he has provided him. When Truman leaves, it crushes Christof as he sees everything he’s built in his lifetime come crashing down in one moment. Again, we see that the bubble kept more people inside than just Truman. Everyone who had anything to do with the show, whether as a viewer, actor, or manager, were all trapped under that bubble with Truman because of the lie they all shared. Because Truman didn’t know what they knew, they all became invested in his well being. This means that they all wanted to protect and coddle him as much as they could because they all felt responsible for Truman.

In the end, though, Truman breaks free from the deceit. His spirit for adventure won’t let him be lied to any more. He finally sees the world for what it is, and overcomes it. The problem came from the fact that while Truman was loved, it wasn’t the right kind of love. It wasn’t from people who truly appreciated who he was, because if they did, how could they allow such a spectacle to take place? The film serves as an indictment of the television viewer here. But the only love Truman has really ever known has been a selfish love, a love that is driven more by greed than anything else. The people involved in the show get money, the people who watch the show get entertainment, and the guy who’s the star of the show gets…to play the fool for millions of people. In the end, the protection Christof offered wasn’t real, the romance Truman’s wife offered wasn’t genuine, and the happiness Truman’s world offered was merely confectionary. The only real thing in Truman’s world was Truman, because he felt everything, no matter what it was. Everything that happened was real to him, and when he saw people playing with his life, he considered it too valuable to hand over to some invisible voice in the sky. In that moment, before he finally walks out the door, Truman allegorically breaks the chains of the world that has bound him for so long, and responds to everything he’s gone through with the one constant truth that has been in his life. He shows respect for what has come before in his life, and he shows how genuine every moment that came before was for him. The words that defined him have, finally, set him free. With a smile and a wink but without a hint of malice, Truman says “Good Morning! And in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night” as if to thank us all for everything and to tell us to go screw all at once. In its simplicity, it tells us everything we need to know: despite everything else being a lie, Truman was always real.

How We Are Who We Are

Filmmakers seem to be fascinated with Rene Descartes’ discussion of reality. Descartes was a French philosopher who, among other things, is famous for his questioning of what he sees and feels, stating that everything he believes to be there, might, in fact, be an illusion created by a demon, who has taken his body. The only truth that can be known, he states, is the truth of self. Cogito ergo sum. We cannot, he argues, accept everything we think we know to be real because, in the end, we know almost nothing except what we assume to be true.

What’s fascinating to me is that what Descartes describes here is somewhat similar to how our memories work. After something happens, anytime we attempt to remember that event, we essentially wind up recreating the event with our imaginations. No two memories of one moment are the same. While sometimes certain feelings can be triggered by specific memories, that’s more of the body responding to certain emotional cues than anything else. We, in effect, fool ourselves into believing in something that is not there that’s created solely from the ether of our brains. What we think of as a database isn’t really there at all; rather, we create an extension of reality for ourselves. What we remember, I suppose, is more a reflection of how our brain truly works rather than a test of our mental capabilities. I think it demonstrates how reality and memory play tricks on us.

These ideas have become the starting points of explorations through films that attempt to make us view our world in a different light. The most famous film of this type is probably the Matrix, but it is far from the first, the last, or even the best. Films like the Truman Show, Dark City, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind all discuss this. They become an exploration of the inner workings of not only the mind, but of the soul. What happens to us if everything we know is wrong or incomplete? Are we the same people in the end?

Superheroes, Athletes, and what it all means.

              I guess I should start out explaining why I’m writing about “fun” stuff. Honestly, I don’t want to write about religion, politics, or anything else that everyone disagrees about. I’m a devout Christian, but that shouldn’t change how you live your life. I’m more conservative, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other ideas out there. Arguing about that stuff, after a certain point, is an exercise in futility. You’re not going to convince me to change, and I’m not going to convince you you’re wrong. I’m much more interested in the more subjective fields, finding out what makes people tick, and figuring out why things work, why they don’t, and opening up the discussion. There’s way too much baggage with that other stuff. I’m going to (hopefully) talk about anything and everything that I find interesting, amusing, or entertaining. So, let’s get right down to it.

ESPN the magazine did an NBA preview earlier this year with Marvel, associating teams and players with specific superheroes. This makes perfect sense to me. There is a special artistry in sports that, at times, is difficult to explain. As a fan of comic book superheroes, there is an allure to watching normal human beings perform extraordinary feats. In many ways, I am a Philistine when it comes to certain aspects of sports, but the explosiveness, the physical ability to perform is something I can, at the very least, appreciate. Other sites, such as Free Darko express themselves in a much better way than I can about these topics (this comparison of John Wall's speed and agility to the power and strength of Blake Griffin is enlightening ) I, for some odd reason, view these athletes in the context of a comic book. Both worlds, for all intents and purposes are separate from the world we live in, but they entertain us and draw us in for a, albeit brief, period and show us what’s possible.

Some athletes, such as Deron Williams of the Utah Jazz make it easy. His court vision and agility is akin to the blind vigilante Daredevil, who, while blind, possesses a Radar Sense and Martial Arts skills that are a deadly combination. Daredevil sees openings that others don’t, and exploits them, pushing opponents to the edge. Williams, at his best, is maddening on the court because of his speed, strength, and passing ability. If a teammate is open, Williams will get him the ball.

In football, no one is faster than Chris Johnson. His speed is not only incredible, it is effective. If a defender hesitates for a moment, he’s gone. This speed is really his only weapon, but because Johnson is smart, and thinks quicker than anyone else, he becomes almost unstoppable. With his lightning speed, quickstep, and dodging ability, Johnson is the football version of the Flash. Defenders know he’s going to run. They know they have to stop him. But that, in the end, is easier said than done.

These comparisons are how my brain works. I can’t help but look at Peyton Manning and see Batman: he’s never out of the game, no matter what happens, he prepares for every contingency, and more often than not he’s going to win.  Barry Sanders demonstrates this discussion perfectly: quick, unstoppable, and other worldly, he’s probably the closest thing to Superman we’ll ever see, on the field at least. I recognize these similarities, whether they’re really there or not, and overanalyze what I see. For me, I suppose, it comes down to seeing these people as the epitome of human potential. They are, in one way or another, the best we can be. The athleticism, the instincts, the analytical ability, and the drive show what are true potential is. I know, I know. Idolizing these people is foolhardy, at the end of the day they’re just people. But I’m not saying that they’re great role models: I’m saying they demonstrate what people can do at the peak of their abilities, and learn from them when they fall short. Every game is its own drama play, complete with plotlines and consequences. For a brief moment, the world drifts away, and all that’s left are two men running towards one another. It is an encapsulation of the human condition: we always falter and fall, but sometimes, if we have enough ability, if we work hard enough, or maybe if God is just smiling on us one day, something miraculous can occur. And, really, when it comes down to it, it’s that very same struggle the Greeks obsessed over and stories go over every day: finding the ultimate potential of the human spirit to overcome insurmountable obstacles. Success, though, isn’t the point. Yeah, it feels good to win. Yeah, it sucks to lose. But there’s a special kind of magic when, to borrow from Rasheed Wallace, both teams play hard. There’s nothing else like it.