THE TRUMAN SHOW Explained: Funny, Tragic, and Moving

The Truman Show is the story of a man who is unaware that his entire life is actually a television show created and overseen by a man named Christof is a tragic and moving vision. Everything Truman sees around him is merely an illusion, and his natural goodness and friendly disposition clash day after day with the artificial world that serves as entertainment for television viewers. When I reflected on Peter Weir’s film, I discovered that both the character of Truman and the titular show could be represented by the six very distinct emotions I tried to elaborate on below.

LONGING

Truman has been haunted by this feeling almost constantly since the fateful sea expedition with his father. His death, from Truman’s perspective, is the result of his own mistake and stubbornness—if they had turned back earlier, the storm wouldn’t have caught them out at sea, and they would have returned to port together. A terrible burden that he has had to carry for over twenty years. The feeling of longing mixes with the belief that his father will someday be found, as the body was never recovered. Of course, Truman has no idea that the missing, presumed dead man is not related to him at all, and that the storm and the entire tragedy were merely a simulation orchestrated by Christof. The panic-stricken fear of water he developed, the weight of guilt, the sense of loss—all these negative emotions were artificially created for the sake of the program’s viewership. Man has become a tool.

When the longing finally comes to an end, and Truman’s father does indeed reappear on the scene, it is the perfect opportunity to create an emotional, uplifting moment that will delight viewers and fix the unforeseen script issues of the last few days. Truman is, of course, emotionally shattered, and one can’t blame him—his father’s return is just one of the unexpected events he has recently encountered, but in this one moment, it seems to be the most longed-for, offering a glimmer of hope that things might still turn around. At least for a time.

ROUTINE

Every day follows the same pattern. Waking up, followed by a moment of silly antics in front of the mirror. Going to a boring desk job (though according to Marlon, Truman’s childhood friend, there is no better way to make a living). A visit to the kiosk to pick up a few magazines. Confrontation with the disliked boss. Along the way, of course, always the same people, acting according to a single pattern and behaving the same regardless of the day. In theory, nothing should surprise Truman. Though he doesn’t know it, he lives in a bubble where everything operates according to a safe script. The routine can only be broken by extraordinary circumstances, which, from Truman’s perspective, are difficult to explain—how could a spotlight suddenly fall from the sky?

In such a perfectly organized, almost boring world, it only takes a little openness to the surroundings, a closer look at its elements, and it may turn out that beneath the layer of apparent perfection, there are many cracks. These cracks might ultimately turn out to be the key to freedom.

ILLUSION

The patterns and routine behaviors of the townspeople don’t affect Truman as much as his immediate environment. His family home, his marriage to Meryl, his years-long close relationship with his best friend are all just an illusion. To keep Burbank in the same position, his on-screen loved ones constantly discourage him whenever his dreams or desires to escape the town arise. Even the photos in his family album of supposed trips outside the town are fake—poorly done photo montages, as though no one believed Truman could figure anything out while sitting in his metaphorical bubble. One only needs to look at Meryl, who primarily functions as a living product placement on screen, and every expression of surprise Truman has at her actions equally surprises her. It seems that only the actor playing Marlon really feels some degree of sympathy for Truman. Although their friendship is merely a product of the script, his reaction when telling Truman that he wouldn’t lie to him seems entirely genuine—almost as if he regrets that he truly has to do it.

LOVE

I wrote about Truman’s longing for his father, but Truman has been missing one more person in his life for many years. Sylvia, an extra playing one of the students at Burbank’s college. She was the only one in his thirty years of life who truly loved him. She wanted to make him aware that his life was nothing more than a creation of a script. They spent relatively little time together, but that was enough for her to stay in Truman’s mind forever. How palpable the difference must have been for him between the actors using lines written in the script and the girl who genuinely wanted the best for him and treated him not as an experiment but as a human being. This is why he so stubbornly tried to recreate her face from clippings found in fashion magazines, and why the trip to Fiji—where Sylvia supposedly lived—became his priority. He couldn’t know that Sylvia had been watching his story on television for years, perhaps the only one to see The Truman Show as an inhumane project and to openly speak about it. The viewers loved Truman as a television element. Sylvia loved him as a person. Fortunately for him, he would still learn this.

ASPIRATIONS

The irritation caused by being stuck in the same place (both literally and figuratively) generates in Burbank a desire to break free from his surroundings. Breaking the routine, seeing a part of the world, but most importantly, the journey to Fiji and finding Sylvia are goals that constantly occupy his mind. To achieve these, he is willing to sacrifice a lot, including overcoming his greatest fear. He fails to escape by air or land. The safety measures used by Christof are too well thought out, but even the Creator couldn’t foresee that Truman would dare to set sail on open waters just to fulfill his dreams. At the end of his journey, he may even see more than he expects.

HOPE

All of the aspects of Truman’s life described above are tied to his sense of hope. Burbank believes that he will fulfill his dreams, that he will meet his father again, that the dramatic separation from Sylvia wasn’t also their final meeting. The most hope Burbank has is undoubtedly at the moment when, secretly from everyone, no longer caring that everything revolves around him, he sets off on a solitary voyage. He does not expect that at the end of the road, he will literally collide with a wall. The cruel awareness—he has truly wasted thirty years of his life. The despair that grips him for a moment, however, gives way to a new surge of hope. Perhaps mixed with fear, but still driving him through the door to the exit, despite Christof’s pleas for him to stay. A final bow and the first step toward the real world. He doesn’t need to reach Fiji to meet his love. For Truman, this is the beginning of actual life. We ourselves can only hope that it will be a fulfilling one.

Good morning, oh and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!