THE TRUMAN SHOW


A Screen Play

By

Andrew M. Niccol


Director: Peter Weir

Shooting Script


A FOGGED MIRROR

Behind the fog we hear the sounds of a bathroom. After a
long moment, a hand wipes the condensation from the glass to
reveal the face of TRUMAN BURBANK. He wears a sleeveless
Hanes undershirt and blue-stripe pajama bottoms, behind him a
white glazed tiled bathroom wall. It is immediately apparent
that we are viewing him through a two-way mirror.

Truman, expressionless, studies his reflection in the mirror.
For a long moment, he does nothing. He continues to look
impassively into the mirror for what becomes an uncomfortably
long time. Still nothing. Finally he speaks, talking to
himself in the mirror as if participating in a TV interview.

TRUMAN
...personally I think the unconquered
south face is the only one worth
scaling...of course it's a 20,000 foot
sheer wall of ice but then when did that
ever stop me before?...Naturally, I
intend to make the ascent without the
benefit of oxygen but also without
crampons or even an ice pick...risks?...
(smug, TV smiles)
...sure I'm aware of the risks--why else
do you think I would spend seven years as
an adjuster in a life insurance
company...?

MERYL (O.S.)
Truman, you're gonna be late!

Truman resignedly opens the door of the cabinet and replaces
his shaving tackle. It partially obscures the lens of the
hidden camera. He closes the door and exits.


INT. KITCHEN. MORNING.

MERYL, wearing a stylish robe, sits at the kitchen table
sipping coffee. On the table in front of her lies a parcel.
TRUMAN enters and glances at the gift.

TRUMAN
What's that?

MERYL
It's a surprise.

TRUMAN unwraps the parcel - an expensive-looking set of
exercise sweats.

MERYL
(eager for his response)
Well, what do you think?

TRUMAN
They're...
(the merest hesitation)
perfect. Thank you.

Truman returns Meryl's kiss.

MERYL
(handing him the sweat top)
Try it on.

Truman pulls the top over his head. As he does so, a closer
shot focuses on the manufacturer's name.

MERYL
I thought you could wear them when
you do your exercises.
(afterthought)
Pre-shrunk. And they breathe.


EXT. TRUMAN'S HOUSE. DAY.

Wearing a business suit, briefcase in hand, TRUMAN emerges
from his pleasant, Victorian-inspired, picket-fenced house
into an idyllic suburban street of similarly picturesque
homes. A neighbor, SPENCER, is taking in trashcans,
whistling a tune. Spencer breaks off abruptly as Truman
approaches his car. His license plate reads, "Seahaven - A
A Nice Place To Live".

SPENCER
Morning, Truman.

TRUMAN
Morning, Spencer. And in case I don't
see you, good afternoon, good evening
and good night.

Spencer's dog, PLUTO, bounds happily over to Truman.

TRUMAN
(petting the dog)
Hey, Pluto.

Truman exchanges a polite nod with the WASHINGTON's, an
African-American family across the street. MR. WASHINGTON
is farewelled by his WIFE and CHILD.

Truman is about to climb into his car when he is distracted
by a high-pitched whistling sound. Suddenly, a large
spherical glass object falls from the sky and lands with a
deafening crash on the street, several yards from his car.

The startled Truman looks to Spencer but he has abruptly
disappeared inside his house with Pluto. Mrs. Washington and
Washington Junior have also made themselves scarce.

Truman investigates. Amidst a sea of shattered glass are the
remains of a light mechanism.

He looks around him but the street is deserted. He checks
that all the surrounding street lights are accounted for,
even though the fallen fixture is far larger. He looks up
into the sky but there is no plane in sight. With some
effort, Truman picks up what's left of the crumpled light and
loads it into the trunk. A label on the light fixture reads,
"SIRIUS (9 Canis Major)". As he drives away, we hear the
sound of his car radio.

RADIO ANNOUNCER
Another glorious morning in Seahaven,
folks.


INT/EXT. TRUMAN'S CAR - SEAHAVEN. DAY.

TRUMAN makes his way along the streets of Seahaven past a
series of quaint, pastel-shaded cottages.


EXT. SEAHAVEN ISLAND TOWNSHIP. DAY.

A high-angle reveals an anonymous mid-sized town built around
a small, pretty bay. A cluster of high-rise buildings stand
at the water's edge overlooking a marina. Surrounding the
commercial center lie neatly arranged suburbs.


EXT. OCEANSIDE STREET. DAY.

Pausing at a traffic light along a seaside road, TRUMAN looks
through a curious wooden arch to the beach and ocean beyond.
The sight triggers a memory in his head.


PLAYBACK - EXT. LONG, WIDE BEACH. DAY.

Unlike a conventional flashback, the scene in his memory
appears to be playing on a television screen.

FOUR-YEAR-OLD TRUMAN runs towards a bluff on the beach.

The boy's father, KIRK, late-thirties, beer bottle in hand,
flirts with TWO TEENAGE GIRLS at the shoreline. Suddenly,
the father remembers his son. He looks anxiously around.
The sight of the boy at the far end of the beach causes him
to drop his bottle in the sand and run to Truman.

The boy is near the top of the cliff before his agitated
father comes within earshot.

FATHER
(out of breath, clutching his side)
Truman! Truman! Stop!

Truman turns from his perch and waves happily down to his
father. But the smile quickly vanishes when he registers the
anger and distress on his father's face.

FATHER
Come down now!

His father's unnatural anxiety makes the next bay even more
tantalizing. The boy considers defying his father. He puts
his hand on the rock above him to stretch up and sneak a peek
at the other side. One good stretch would do it.

FATHER
(reading Truman's mind, enraged)
No!

TRUMAN
Why? What's there?

FATHER
(unconvincing)
Nothing. It's...it's dangerous.
(trace of desperation)
Come down, now! Please!

Truman is suddenly aware that the hundreds of other