Read The Full Shooting Script of The Truman Show (1998)

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Read Time:115 Minute, 10 Second

The Truman Show. screenplay by Andrew M. Niccol. Director: Peter Weir

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.
Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
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.
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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
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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.
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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
BEACHGOERS have stopped their activities to stare at him.
Reluctantly, he starts to retrace his steps down the rocks.
When he finally jumps to the sand, his father embraces him
and leads him away.
FATHER
I told you to stay close. Don’t ever
leave my sight again.
(pause)
You’ve got to know your limitations. You
could’ve fallen.
INT. TRUMAN’S CAR – DOWNTOWN SEAHAVEN. MORNING – PRESENT.
Through his car window, TRUMAN buys a cup of coffee from a
streetside VENDOR.
VENDOR
How are ya, Truman?
TRUMAN
(placing his fingers to his pulse)
Vital signs are good.
He pulls into a parking space and sips on the coffee. As he
drinks, he becomes aware of a school bell summoning children
to class in the adjacent Elementary School. The image
prompts another childhood memory.
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PLAYBACK – INT. SEAHAVEN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL – CLASSROOM. DAY.
Once again, the flashback appears to be playing on a
television screen.
SEVEN-YEAR-OLD TRUMAN sits in the middle row of an Elementary
School classroom surrounded by twenty-or-so other well-
scrubbed, uniformed YOUNGSTERS. MARLON, the boy next to
Truman, is on his feet under the scrutiny of a kindly Norman
Rockwell-style SCHOOL MISTRESS.
MISTRESS
What do you want to do when you grow up,
Marlon?
MARLON
I want to be an entrepreneur like my dad.
SCHOOL MISTRESS
(impressed)
Tell the class what an “entrepreneur”
does, Marlon.
MARLON
He makes a lot of money, Ma’am.
SCHOOL MISTRESS
A good one does, Marlon.
(looking in her purse, hamming it up)
Perhaps I’ll be coming to you for a loan
one of these days.
The CLASS titters. Marlon sits down and winks to Truman.
SCHOOL MISTRESS
What about you, Truman?
Truman rises to his feet, gathering his nerve.
TRUMAN
I want to be an explorer
(with reverence)
…like Magellan.
The School Mistress smiles benevolently.
SCHOOL MISTRESS
(slightly condescending)
I’m afraid no one’s going to pay you to
do that, Truman. You might have to find
something a little more practical.
(glancing to a pulldown wall
map behind her head)
Besides, you’re too late. There’s
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really nothing left to explore.
The class roars with laughter as the crestfallen Truman takes
his seat.
EXT. PARKING LOT. DAY – PRESENT.
TRUMAN, briefcase in hand, crosses from the parking lot to
the town square, surrounded by similarly suited, briefcase-
toting OFFICE WORKERS.
EXT. DOWNTOWN SEAHAVEN. DAY.
TRUMAN walks briskly down the bustling city street. A snarl
of taxis, buses and COMMUTER traffic. A STREET VENDOR
thrusts a pretzel under Truman’s nose, a CAREER WOMAN tries
to catch his eye.
Truman stops at a kiosk and buys a newspaper – “THE ISLAND
TIMES”.
VENDOR
Is that all for you, Truman?
TRUMAN
That’s all. Thanks, Errol.
Other CUSTOMERS also purchase the morning paper. Tucking his
copy under his arm, Truman selects a glossy magazine from a
rack, quickly flicking through the pages.
Glancing in the direction of the NEWSPAPER VENDOR and finding
him busy with another CUSTOMER, Truman deftly tears a portion
of the open page and pockets the cutting. He hastily
replaces the magazine and departs.
As Truman hurries away, the vendor exits the kiosk and picks
up the magazine, instantly turning to the torn page. It is a
cosmetics advertisement with the MODEL’S NOSE missing.
However, the vendor makes no effort to confront Truman,
almost as if he were expecting it.
EXT. SEAHAVEN LIFE AND ACCIDENT, INC. DAY.
Truman passes along a row of shops and offices, finally
entering a building that proudly proclaims, “Seahaven Life &
Accident Inc.” above the entrance. He has evidently taken
his teacher’s advice.
INT. INSURANCE COMPANY – SEAHAVEN LIFE AND ACCIDENT, INC. DAY.
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In a cramped, cluttered cubicle, TRUMAN talks on the telephone.
TRUMAN
(into receiver)
…okay, okay, let’s call it what it
is…I’m not going to lie to you…life
insurance is death insurance…you’ve
just got to ask yourself two questions…
one, in the event of your death, will
anyone experience financial loss?…and
two, do you care?
A CLERK drops a large reference book on Truman’s desk.
Truman checks the spine – “MARITIME ACCIDENTS”.
TRUMAN
(into receiver)
Hold on, will you?
(to Clerk, referring to the book)
This is no good. Lumps all maritime
accidents together. I need drownings as
a separate category.
The Clerk shrugs, returns the book to his cart and continues
his rounds.
TRUMAN
(returning to his call)
…just think about what I’ve been saying
and let me…hello?…
The person on the other end has hung up. With an apathetic
shrug, Truman replaces the receiver. He looks over his
shoulder and places another call.
TRUMAN
(lowering his voice)
Can you connect me with directory
inquiries in Fiji?
A CO-WORKER suddenly pokes his head over the neighboring cubicle.
CO-WORKER
What do you know, Truman?
TRUMAN
(embarrassed, mouthing the word)
–Can’t talk.
(waving off his neighbor, pretending
to be on a business call)
I’m sorry, ma’am. If he’s in a coma,
he’s probably uninsurable.
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The Co-Worker disappears back into his own cubicle.
TRUMAN
(lowering his voice again)
Hello, operator…yes, Fiji…Do you have
a listing for a Lauren Garland?
(pause)
…nothing listed?…what about a Sylvia
Garland…”S” for Sylvia…nothing?
Okay, thanks…
The disconsolate Truman replaces the receiver. Other
INSURANCE AGENTS are heading to lunch. Truman puts on his
jacket and follows them to the elevators.
INT. LOCAL ITALIAN DELI. LUNCHTIME.
Behind a deli counter, TYRONE, fifties, is having his hair
brushed by a YOUNG MAN. The man fusses one final time, then
swiftly departs through a rear door just as TRUMAN enters
the store. Tyrone has anticipated Truman’s order and has
already begun preparing a meatball and mozzarella sandwich on
an Italian roll. Truman gazes at the sandwich skillfully
under construction, pained by his own predictability.
TYRONE
(nauseatingly cheerful)
How’s it going, Truman?
TRUMAN
(deadpan)
Not bad. I just won the State Lottery.
TYRONE
(not listening to Truman’s reply)
Good. Good.
TRUMAN
Tyrone, what if I said I didn’t want
meatball today?
TYRONE
(not missing a beat, passing
Truman his wrapped sandwich)
I’d ask for identification.
Truman forces a half-smile and exits.
TYRONE
See you tomorrow, Truman.
TRUMAN
You can count on it.
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EXT. SECLUDED PARK. DAY.
TRUMAN eats lunch alone at a small, out-of-the-way park
dominated by a gazebo. From his briefcase he pulls out an
old, hardcovered book, “To The Ends Of The Earth – The Age Of
Exploration”. He reads to himself, his sandwich uneaten
beside him. Struck by a particular passage, he reads aloud.
TRUMAN
“With a mutiny but half-repressed and
starvation imminent, he pressed southward
till he found the long-hoped-for
straits…”
Truman is interrupted by a TRANSIENT in a wheelchair. It is
the man’s sneakers Truman notices first, over the top of his
book – they are distinctively initialed, “T.S.”. Still under
the spell of the account of Magellan, he hands the grateful
man his sandwich.
INT. A CONFERENCE ROOM SOMEWHERE. DAY.
A group of a dozen MEN and WOMEN of varying ages sit around a
circular conference table in a sterile, windowless meeting room.
All stare at a single telephone placed in the center of the
table, anticipating a call. On cue, the phone rings and one of
the men, after waiting for the second ring, picks up.
MAN
Hello?…I’m sorry, I’ve got more than
enough life insurance.
He hangs up. After a moment the phone rings again.
INT. INSURANCE COMPANY. DAY.
TRUMAN sits at his desk, making a cold call.
TRUMAN
(into receiver)
…this isn’t about insurance, this is
about the great variable – when will
death occur? Could be a week, a month, a
year. Could happen today…A sunbather,
minding his own business, gets stabbed in
the heart by the tip of a runaway beach
umbrella… No way you can guard against
that kind of thing, no way at all…
The prospect on the other end, unimpressed with Truman’s
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pitch, hangs up. Truman’s supervisor, LAWRENCE, younger than
Truman by several years, sharper suit, sharper haircut,
appears around the corner of the cubicle.
LAWRENCE
(handing Truman some
documentation)
Hey, Burbank, I’ve got a prospect in
Welles Park I need you to close.
Truman’s face falls. He stares out of his third floor window
at the hazy skyline of a nearby island across the bay.
TRUMAN
(referring to the island)
Welles Park on Harbor Island?
LAWRENCE
(sarcastic)
You know another one?
TRUMAN
I can’t do it.
(searching for a plausible
excuse)
–I’ve got an appointment–er, dentist.
LAWRENCE
(insistent)
You’ll lose a lot more than your teeth if
you don’t meet your quota, Burbank.
(the threat in his voice
is unmistakable)
They’re making cutbacks at the end of the
month. You need this.
(as he exits the cubicle)
Besides, a half hour across the bay. Sea
air. Do you good.
Truman sinks back into his seat and stares out at the distant
skyline. The buildings appear very still. Truman picks up a
photo of his wife, Meryl, deposits it in his briefcase and
exits.
EXT. SEAHAVEN. DAY.
Truman’s car heads out of the city on its way to the ferry.
INT. SEAHAVEN FERRY TERMINAL. DAY.
TRUMAN exits his car. Mustering all his nerve, he marches
into the Seahaven terminal and buys a token for the ferry.
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Out of his hearing, TWO FERRY WORKERS observe Truman’s
agitated behavior.
FERRY WORKER 1
I got a feeling this is the day.
FERRY WORKER 2
No way. I say he makes it through the
turnstiles but he never gets on.
The two men shake on the wager. Unaware of the scrutiny,
Truman passes through the turnstiles with a herd of TOURISTS
and COMMUTERS. He makes his way across the terminal, but
abruptly pulls up at the gangway.
As the other PASSENGERS impatiently brush past him onto the
boat, Truman remains frozen to the spot, mesmerized by the
scummy water rising and falling beneath the dock. It
triggers a memory in his head.
PLAYBACK – EXT. SEAHAVEN HARBOR. DAY.
As always, the flashback appears to play on a television
screen.
SEVEN-YEAR-OLD TRUMAN, wearing a lifejacket, sits alongside
his father, KIRK, in a small sailing dinghy, sailing into a
stiff breeze.
A second sail boat circles them. We observe the father and
son from an angle atop the mast of the neighboring vessel.
TRUMAN
(shouting above the wind)
Let’s go further, daddy! Let’s go
further!
KIRK
(shouting back)
It’s getting rough, Truman.
TRUMAN
(entreating his father)
Please!…
Kirk shakes his head ruefully and indulges his son by heading
towards the gathering storm clouds on the horizon.
INT. SEAHAVEN FERRY TERMINAL. DAY – PRESENT.
Truman turns and begins to fight his way back against the tide of
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PASSENGERS boarding the ferry, emerging back onto the street,
gasping for air. The FERRY WORKERS settle their wager.
EXT. ROADWAY ADJACENT TO THE FERRY TERMINAL. DAY.
TRUMAN stands at a payphone. By stretching the payphone’s
receiver cord as far as it will go, he is just able to reach
his arm and leg into the driver’s door of his car. He
punctuates his conversation with blasts on the car’s horn
while revving the car’s engine with his outstretched foot.
The few passing MOTORISTS and PEDESTRIANS regard Truman
curiously.
TRUMAN
(shouting into phone)
–I tell you the traffic’s insane.
(blasting his horn several
times to imitate the sound of
of gridlock)
…I’ll never make the ferry in time.
What can I do?–what?…Lawrence, I can’t
hear you!
Truman hangs up the phone.
INT. TRUMAN’S CAR. DAY.
On his way home, a large “DETOUR” sign forces him onto a
secondary road.
INT. TRUMAN’S CAR – PARKLAND, SEAHAVEN. DAY.
TRUMAN drives along a winding road through parkland. He
pulls up at a red light – no other traffic around. His
attention is caught by an attractive YOUNG WOMAN, sitting on
a park bench not far from the intersection. She is being
taunted by TWO YOUNG THUGS. She attempts to ignore the
youths by concentrating on the book on her lap.
YOUTH 1
(to woman)
You wanna read to me?
His companion smirks.
YOUTH 1
(more insistent)
You wanna read to me?
The boy reaches over and snatches the novel from her grasp.
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YOUTH 2
(menacing)
My friend asked you a question.
The woman picks up her bag in a reflex and holds it to her.
She looks about for assistance, briefly catching Truman’s eye.
The youths also look in Truman’s direction, staring him down.
WOMAN
(reaching for the book)
Please…
The boy returns the book to the woman, but before doing so
rips out the last page from the novel and stuffs it in his
shirt pocket.
YOUTH 2
Now you’re gonna have to ask me how
it ends.
One of the youths grabs the woman, dragging her toward the
surrounding woods.
YOUTH 1
We’re gonna tell you how it ends, baby.
WOMAN
Help! Please help!
As they drag her towards the undergrowth, Truman, horrified,
half gets out of the car – fearful of his own safety as much
as the woman’s. Truman shouts to the youths, his voice
cracking with fear.
TRUMAN
Hey! Let her go!
A huge truck suddenly appears behind Truman’s car, its horn
blasting, the DRIVER hurling abuse. Truman hesitates as the
youths drag the woman into the bushes, conflicted over
whether or not to help. The truck driver keeps his hand on
the horn. Truman retreats back into his car and reluctantly
drives on.
EXT. PARKLAND – WOODS. DAY.
Truman’s car safely out of sight, the YOUTHS promptly release
the YOUNG WOMAN. She calmly brushes herself off, no longer
afraid. The young men, no longer angry, retrieve her bag.
WOMAN
Thanks.
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The threesome walks back towards the roadway as if life-long
friends.
WOMAN
(pondering the incident)
He did nothing.
YOUTH 1
(shrugs, suddenly more couth)
Physical violence paralyzes him. Always has.
EXT. TRUMAN’S HOUSE – DUSK
Beyond the pretty picket fence at the end of the property
flows a busy highway.
TRUMAN is mowing the lawn. From his expression it would seem
that he’s still reflecting on his inaction in the park. He
switches off the mower and leans on the handle.
He is distracted by the arrival of his wife, MERYL, exiting
the house. She wears a nurse’s uniform and carries a curious
metal device attached to a card board backing. She kisses
Truman affectionately on the cheek.
MERYL
Hi, honey. Look at this.
(proudly referring to the device)
It’s a “Chef’s-Mate.” Dicer, slicer and
peeler in one. Never needs sharpening.
Dishwasher safe.
TRUMAN
Gee, that’s great.
Looking over Truman’s shoulder, Meryl notices a small, uncut
patch of grass missed by Truman in one of his passes.
MERYL
(referring to the uncut grass)
You missed a section.
Meryl enters the house. Truman restarts the lawnmower and
obediently pushes it towards the offending patch of lawn. As
the mower brushes up against the unconforming blades of
grass, Truman pulls back abruptly. He checks the kitchen
window for Meryl and wheels the mower away, leaving the patch
uncut.
INT. TRUMAN’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM. NIGHT.
MERYL is removing the cap of her nurse’s uniform when TRUMAN
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enters.
TRUMAN
How did it go today?
MERYL
(matter-of-fact)
A man tripped and fell on a chainsaw.
(shrug)
We got three of his fingers back on.
Truman retrieves a bucket of golf balls and a golf club from
behind the door.
MERYL
(disappointed at the sight of
the golf equipment)
I was hoping we could have a special
evening.
TRUMAN
I won’t be late.
MERYL
(sensing something odd in his
demeanor)
Did something happen today?
Truman turns to her too sharply, his guilt showing.
TRUMAN
What could happen?
Truman exits.
EXT. UNFINISHED BRIDGE. NIGHT.
A half-constructed bridge, paved but unmarked, ends abruptly
in mid-air – reinforcing steel protruding from the concrete.
TRUMAN stands at the end of the unfinished bridge with
MARLON, thirties, a well-filled physique. Marlon drinks beer
from a can while Truman addresses a teed-up golf ball with a
number three wood. The headlights of their two parked cars
light the cement “fairway”. Their target is a sign at the
far end of the bridge proclaiming, “THE SEAHAVEN CAUSEWAY –
Linking Seahaven Island With The Rest Of The World – Your Tax
Dollars At Work” – an upturned plastic cone at the foot of
the sign is the “hole.”
Truman winds up and swings, making a healthy contact with the
ball. The ball arches away into the night sky. From a new
angle we see the ball take a huge hop on the outside lane of
the abandoned freeway and continue down the asphalt beyond
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the sign.
Marlon tosses Truman another off-white ball from a bucket of
badly scarred golf balls. Truman sets the ball up on the
makeshift tee area and launches himself into his second shot.
With a slight fade, the second ball carries even further than
the first.
MARLON
Whose nuts were those?
Truman hands Marlon their sole golf club without comment.
Marlon tees up a ball of his own He uses orange golf balls.
TRUMAN
I’m thinking of getting out, Marlon.
MARLON
(mild interest only)
Yeah? Outta what?
TRUMAN
Outta my job, outta Seahaven, off this
island…out!
Marlon takes a practice swing.
MARLON
Outta your job? What the hell’s wrong
with your job? You gotta great job. You
gotta desk job. I’d kill for a desk job.
Marlon addresses the ball and swings – a sweeping hook shot
that bounces off the freeway and into the water hazard.
MARLON
(annoyed by the errant tee shot)
Sonofabitch.
(still looking in the
direction of his ball)
Try stocking vending machines for a
living. My biggest decision of the day
is whether the Almond Joys look better
next to the Snickers or the Baby Ruths.
Truman selects another “M” ball from the bucket and tosses it
to Marlon.
TRUMAN
(adamant)
Haven’t you ever gotten itchy feet?
Overcompensating with his second shot, Marlon slices the ball in
the other direction. A lucky bounce keeps it on the “green.”
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The ball rolls in the direction of the upturned cone.
MARLON
(skeptical, picking up his beer)
Where is there to go?
Truman gulps his beer as he prepares his answer.
TRUMAN
(unable to disguise his
reverence)
Fiji.
Marlon considers Truman’s suggestion as he sips his beer.
MARLON
(impressed)
Fiji? Where the hell is Fiji exactly?
Near Florida? You can’t drive there,
can you?
Truman picks up a golf ball to demonstrate. He points to a
dimple on his make-shift globe.
TRUMAN
See here, this is us.
(sliding his finger around
the other side of the ball)
All the way round here, Fiji. You can’t
get any further away before you start
coming back.
(tossing the world in his
hand, warming to his subject)
Y’know, there are still islands in Fiji
where no human has ever set foot.
MARLON
(still dubious)
So when are you leaving?
TRUMAN
It’s not that simple. Takes money,
planning. You can’t just up and go.
(heading off Marlon’s skepticism)
Oh, I’m going to do it, don’t worry about
that. I’ve just got to move slow. Pick
my moment. Bonus time’s just around the
corner. Soon as I finish the…
MARLON
Nursery?
TRUMAN
Spare room – I can start thinking about
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selling up…and I’ll be gone. Up and
away on that big steel bird.
(as if to convince himself)
I’m going, don’t you worry about that.
Marlon nods even though the concept of taking flight is
beyond his imagination.
MARLON
I never knew anybody who wanted to leave
Seahaven.
An awkward moment. Truman, once again, not so sure of himself.
INT. A DIMLY-LIT ROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
A MAN looks up sharply. He stares into camera. CHRISTOF, late
fifties – a vitality in his eyes that belies his years. A news
anchor-style earpiece disappears down the neck of his suit.
EXT. BRIDGE. NIGHT.
TRUMAN and MARLON wander along the empty bridge, retrieving
the golf balls.
Marlon goes to say something to the disconsolate Truman, but
is momentarily distracted. He raises his hand to his ear.
Truman places another of the balls in the bucket.
MARLON
Truman, you know, I did think about
moving away one time.
TRUMAN
(interest piqued)
Yeah, what happened?
MARLON
I figured, what’s the point? I knew I’d
just be taking my problems with me. Once
the kids came along, it made me look at
Seahaven with new eyes.
(gazing out at the lights of
Seahaven)
I realized, what the hell could be better
than this?
(putting a hand on Truman’s
shoulder)
I’m telling you. What you really need is
someone to carry on the “Burbank” name.
TRUMAN
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You think so?
MARLON
Trust me.
Marlon picks up the last ball at the mouth of the upturned
cone. The ball is white.
MARLON
(checking the ball)
You win.
They approach Truman’s car. Truman opens the trunk to
deposit their humble golfing equipment. Inside are the
remains of the fallen light fixture.
TRUMAN
(referring to the light)
You really think it could’ve dropped off
an airliner?
MARLON
(unimpressed)
Sure. It’s halogen. Shame it didn’t hit
you – you could’ve sued.
(quickly changing the subject)
You coming for a drink?
TRUMAN
I can’t tonight.
INT. LIGHTHOUSE. NIGHT.
From the POV of the lighthouse’s lantern room, we observe
TRUMAN sitting on the beach staring out to sea.
Closer on Truman. He has a portable tape recorder slung over
his shoulder and points a corded microphone at the surf. We
watch Truman’s impassive face as he makes the recording of
the lapping waves. The lamp from the lighthouse occasionally
falls upon Truman.
PLAYBACK – EXT. OCEAN. DAY.
As always, the flashback appears to play on a television screen.
The sky is black with storm clouds. Gale force winds lash
rain into the faces of SEVEN-YEAR-OLD TRUMAN and his father,
KIRK. As Kirk stands up to get his hearings, a freak gust of
wind catches the sail. The boom whips across the stern and
strikes Kirk flush in the head, knocking his overboard.
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Truman, wearing the sole lifejacket, desperately reaches for
his father. He momentarily has hold of his father’s hand
when Kirk is abruptly dragged beneath the surface.
TRUMAN
(crying out)
Daddy!!…Daddy!!…
His cries go unanswered. Seven-year-old Truman finds himself
alone – the storm abruptly passed, the wind suddenly dropped,
the water stilled.
The frightened Truman examines the ring he holds in his open
hand – his father’s ring – wrenched from his finger in
Truman’s fight to keep him afloat.
EXT. BEACH. NIGHT – PRESENT.
A close up of TRUMAN from KIRK’S RING that Truman now wears.
Then, from the lighthouse POV, we observe Truman get to his
feet and walk towards the dark water. He stands at the
water’s edge.
TRUMAN
(shouting at the surf)
I’m sorry, Dad! I’m sorry!
As if in reply, a tongue of lightning flashes across the
distant skyline, followed by a growl of thunder.
INT. A LIVING ROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
TWO OLD WOMEN, seventies, sit beside each other on a sofa
looking directly into camera as they talk.
OLD WOMAN 1
(playing amateur psychiatrist)
It left him with more than his obvious
fear of the water.
OLD WOMAN 2
He was never the same curious little
boy again.
OLD WOMAN 1
Half the women I know named their
children after him.
EXT. BEACH PARKING LOT. NIGHT.
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TRUMAN is forced to leg it through a sudden rain shower to
his car.
From Truman’s point-of-view, the shower appears quite normal.
However, viewed from a distance, we see that the shower is
extremely localized, encircling only him, as if a small cloud
is directly above his head, tracking his progress.
As Truman crosses the parking lot, the shower crosses with
him. Sensing something amiss, Truman dances back and forth
across the street, intrigued by the curious phenomenon. He
hums a few bars of “Singin’ In The Rain.”
The rain becomes heavier, covering a wider area. Truman runs
the remaining distance to his car.
INT. TRUMAN’S HOUSE – NURSERY. NIGHT.
The drenched TRUMAN enters to find MERYL, in the unfinished
nursery, comparing wallpaper samples. Meryl wears a robe, a
glimpse of black negligee beneath.
MERYL
Where have you been?
TRUMAN
(wringing out his jacket)
I’ve been thinking–
MERYL
(rolling her eyes)
Oh, God.
TRUMAN
(ignoring the reception)
–I figure we could scrape together
eight thousand.
MERYL
(exasperated)
Every time you and Marlon–
TRUMAN
–We could bum around the world for a
year on that.
MERYL
And then what, Truman? We’d be back to
where we were five years ago. You’re
talking like a teenager.
TRUMAN
Maybe I feel like a teenager.
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MERYL
We’re mortgaged to the eyeballs, Truman.
There’s the car payments. Are we just
going to walk away from our financial
obligations?
Truman, still dripping on the floor, holds Meryl by the arms.
He talks excitedly to her the way we imagine he did when they
were courting.
TRUMAN
It’d be an adventure.
MERYL
I thought we were going to try for a
baby. Isn’t that enough of an adventure?
TRUMAN
That can wait. I want to get away. See
some of the world. Explore.
Meryl gives a derisive laugh.
MERYL
You want to be an explorer? You don’t
even have a passport, Truman. I bet you
don’t even know how to get one.
The words sting. Truman turns away. Seeing the pain she’s
caused, she changes tack.
MERYL
This’ll pass. Everybody thinks like this
now and then.
(making an attempt at seduction)
Come to bed.
TRUMAN
I think I’m going to stay up for a while.
INT. AN OFFICE BUILDING SOMEWHERE – RECEPTION. NIGHT.
In the reception area of an office building, TWO UNIFORMED
GUARDS drink coffee.
GUARD 1
How can they have a child?
GUARD 2
It’s not gonna be his, you idiot.
GUARD 1
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Why not?
GUARD 2
You think she’d go through with it?
GUARD 1
Sure she would.
GUARD 2
(reassessing his own opinion)
Guess I always thought they’d adopt.
EXT. TRUMAN’S STREET. DAWN.
There is something peculiar about the way the sun rises over
Seahaven Island – the light appears in an arc that’s slightly
too perfect and well-defined.
INT. TRUMAN’S BEDROOM. MORNING.
In front of his bedroom window, TRUMAN, wearing his new
sweats, performs an exercise routine of his own invention.
He counts off the exercises to himself – cheating as he does
so. He counts five leg-lifts for every two he completes.
TRUMAN
–Five…
(two leg-lifts later)
Then…fifteen…two more makes twenty.
INT. A BEDROOM SOMEWHERE. MORNING.
A middle-aged MARRIED COUPLE in identical matching sweats
repeat the same eccentric exercises in perfect sync, as if
they were in a class led by Truman.
EXT. CAR. DAY.
TRUMAN climbs into the car and switches on the radio. He drives
down the street.
RADIO ANNOUNCER
Another glorious morning in Seahaven, folks.
Don’t forget to buckle up–
Truman mutters to himself as is his custom.
EXT. DOWNTOWN SEAHAVEN. DAY.
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TRUMAN emerges from the parking lot and as usual stops at the
newspaper stand. He picks up a glossy magazine and flips
through the cosmetic ads, surreptitiously tearing a pair of
EYES from one of the pages. He returns the magazine to the
rack. As usual, the NEWSPAPER VENDOR fails to intervene.
Truman begins his daily pilgrimage to work through the rush
hour pedestrian traffic.
As he enters the street leading to his office, he glimpses a
HOMELESS MAN reflected in the window of a parked car.
Truman, spellbound by the man, suddenly wheels around to face
him. The Homeless Man, late-fifties, more well-groomed and
well-fed than the average vagrant, has a serene smile on his
face.
The Homeless Man places his hand ever so gently on Truman’s
cheek. Truman makes no effort to withdraw. He is transfixed
by the man’s eyes. He appears to recognize him.
TRUMAN
(almost to himself, mouthing
the word)
Dad…
Suddenly an ELEGANT WOMAN SHOPPER walking a small WIENER DOG
and a BUSINESS EXECUTIVE carrying a briefcase, walking in
opposite directions along the sidewalk, grab the Homeless
Man. One under each arm, lifting the Homeless Man off the
ground, they start to whisk the bewildered derelict down the
street.
TRUMAN
(calling out)
Stop! Stop!!
Truman begins to give chase. However, the shopper and the
businessman are surprisingly fleet-footed. Even more
surprising as Truman embarks on the pursuit is the behavior
of the PEDESTRIANS and COMMUTERS. They appear to part for
the fleeing trio, then close ranks in front of him. Is it
accidental, or are the pedestrians working together, running
interference?
TRUMAN
(shouting at the pedestrians)
Outta the way! Outta the way!
They are escaping.
Truman finally breaks through the pack, bowling over several
of the pedestrians in the process. Just as he gets within
reach of the shopper and the businessman, a bus suddenly
screeches to a halt beside the abductors, doors already open.
The Woman Shopper and the Executive bundle the Homeless Man
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onto the bus. Truman lurches after them, but he is met by
the bus doors, closing sharply in his face.
TRUMAN
(to BUS DRIVER)
Hey, stop! Stop the bus!!
Truman thumps against the doors, but the BUS DRIVER ignores
his cries and the bus roars away. The other PASSENGERS in
the bus, apparently oblivious to the incident, keeps staring
straight ahead.
Truman continues to give chase when a taxi appears out of
nowhere and cuts in front of him, blocking his path. When he
recovers, the bus has disappeared. The mysterious crowd of
pedestrians has also dissolved as if it never existed.
Retracing his steps, head reeling, wondering if the could have
imagined the whole incident, Truman discovers that the Woman
Shopper has left her WIENER DOG behind. The dog wanders
aimlessly on the pavement, its leash trailing behind it.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE. DAY.
TRUMAN paces impatiently in the living room of his Mother’s
cramped, fussy, doilyed little house full of Burbank family
memorabilia – a cluster of framed photographs is dominated by
one of his FATHER trimmed with a black ribbon. A toilet
flushes and Truman’s MOTHER finally emerges from the next
room.
She presents something of a contradiction. Although she
walks with the aid of a “walker,” she is actually a well-
preserved sixty. She wears a glamorous nightgown and a full
head of bleached-blonde hair.
TRUMAN
(kissing Mother on the cheek)
How are you, Mother?
MOTHER
Well, I made it through another night.
TRUMAN
How’s your hip?
MOTHER
Oh, just so.
Truman supports Mother.
MOTHER
You know surprises aren’t good for me.
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You should really call before you come
over, dear.
TRUMAN
I’ve got something to tell you. You’d
better sit down.
Truman helps her into an overstuffed armchair.
MOTHER
You look very pale, Truman. Are you
taking your vitamin D’s?
TRUMAN
(exasperated)
I spend half my life out in the sun,
Mother, why would I need vitamin D?
MOTHER
I feel certain my condition runs in the
family.
(putting the back of her hand
dramatically over her forehead)
Can’t this wait, dear?
He kneels beside her.
TRUMAN
No, I’m afraid it can’t.
Truman takes a deep breath as he prepares to give her the news.
TRUMAN
I know this is going to sound insane,
Mother, but…I saw Dad today on
Lancaster Circle. He’s alive.
Mother smiles condescendingly.
MOTHER
It doesn’t sound insane, Truman. I swear
I see him ten times a week–in a hundred
faces. I almost hugged a perfect stranger
in the salon last Thursday.
TRUMAN
It was Dad, I swear, dressed like a
homeless man. And you know what else was
really strange? A businessman and a
woman with a little dog appeared from
nowhere and forced him onto a bus.
MOTHER
About time they started cleaning up the
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trash Downtown. We don’t want to end up
like the rest of the country.
TRUMAN
They never found Dad’s body–maybe
somehow–
MOTHER
–Darling–
TRUMAN
(already doubting himself)
I’m telling you, if it wasn’t him, it was
his twin. Did Dad have a brother?
MOTHER
You know he was an only child, like you.
(placing a comforting arm
around him)
I know how bad you feel about what
happened–sailing into that storm. But I
don’t blame you, Truman. I never have.
Mother kisses Truman on the cheek.
MOTHER
(referring to her platinum
blonde hair)
I was thinking about going lighter. What
do you think?
Truman regards his Mother. Her hair is already impossibly blonde.
INT. TRUMAN’S BASEMENT. DUSK.
The basement is cluttered with junk – ships in bottles, a
train track without trains, an oxygen mask, a stringless
guitar, many abandoned projects. The basement is dimly lit
by a single, naked bulb. TRUMAN looks over his shoulder
before opening a large walk-in cupboard. On the cupboard
door is a wall map of the Pacific Ocean – the Fiji Islands
are carefully circled. Amongst the many tools and household
implements inside the cupboard is a trunk under a dusty
canvas sheet. He pulls the trunk into the room, unfastens
the lock and opens the lid.
Inside, mementoes from his youth. A “HOW TO SAIL” book, a
stack of “GREAT EXPLORERS” magazines, and beneath it all, a
garment in a drycleaning bag. Truman carefully lifts up the
plastic to reveal a young woman’s cardigan sweater. He puts
the cardigan to his nose and takes in its scent.
Footsteps. Truman hastily drops the cardigan in the trunk
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and shuts the lid. MERYL’s legs appear on the stairs.
MERYL
What’re you doing down here?
TRUMAN
(turning attention to an upturned
mower on the basement floor)
Fixing the mower.
(matter-of-fact)
I saw my father today.
MERYL
I know.
TRUMAN
(suspicious)
How do you know?
MERYL
Your mother called. You shouldn’t upset
her like that.
Meryl’s response takes the wind out of Truman’s sails.
TRUMAN
What did you want?
MERYL
I made macaroni.
TRUMAN
I’m not hungry.
Meryl nods, not at all convinced.
MERYL
We really ought to toss that mower out.
Get one of those new Elk Rotaries.
Truman does not reply. After an uncomfortable pause, she
turns back up the stairs.
Truman waits a moment before re-opening the trunk. He
removes the cardigan and holds it up, reminiscing.
INT. A KITCHEN SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
A MOTHER, DAUGHTER about 12, and a BABY in a highchair stare
into camera.
DAUGHTER
What’s he doing?
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MOTHER
They removed all physical trace of her
but they couldn’t erase the memory.
DAUGHTER
The memory of who?
MOTHER
(finger to lips)
Shhh!
PLAYBACK MONTAGE – EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS – STEPS. DAY.
Once again the images appear to be playing on a television screen.
On the steps of a typical college campus, TRUMAN, 21, in a
college band uniform, participates in a football pep rally.
MARLON, 21, a member of the football team, and MERYL, 21, a
cheerleader, are nearby. Truman observes an ethereal-looking
young woman walk by – LAUREN.
PLAYBACK – INT. DANCEHALL. NIGHT.
At a college dance, TRUMAN dances with MERYL. LAUREN dances
by with a PARTNER of her own. However, Truman only has eyes
for Lauren. Suddenly, she is escorted from the dance floor.
PLAYBACK – EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS – STREET. DAY.
TRUMAN almost trips off the curb as he waves to LAUREN,
riding towards him on a bicycle. However, she rides right by
with her nose in the air, not even acknowledging his presence

  • Truman puzzled by her change of heart.
    The montage ends at a scene in a college library.
    PLAYBACK – INT. COLLEGE LIBRARY. NIGHT.
    In the school library, TRUMAN, 21, sits with MARLON, 21, and
    wife-to-be, MERYL, 21, doing a final cram for a test. The
    STUDENTS begin to pack up their books. Meryl gives Truman a
    peck on the cheek.
    MERYL
    Come on, Truman. Haven’t you studied
    enough?
    TRUMAN
    I still want to look over a couple of
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    things.
    MARLON
    (punching Truman in a chummy
    way on the arm, referring to
    Truman’s book)
    Take the “C” average. That’s what I do.
    Truman looks up from his books. The library is almost
    deserted. He spies a GIRL’s hand around the table divider.
    Truman musters the nerve to poke his head over the divider. He
    finds LAUREN on the other side, buried in a book.
    TRUMAN
    Konichi-wa.
    Lauren looks blank.
    TRUMAN
    (referring to the Japanese
    text in front of her)
    You take Japanese.
    LAUREN
    (quickly closing the book)
    Oh, yes.
    TRUMAN
    (glancing to the name carefully
    written on the front of the book)
    Lauren, right?
    LAUREN
    (as if unaware of her own name)
    That’s right. Lauren.
    TRUMAN
    (extending his hand)
    I’m Truman, Truman Burbank–
    LAUREN
    –I’m not allowed to talk to you.
    Truman is not surprised.
    TRUMAN
    (resigned)
    It’s okay. I probably wouldn’t talk to
    me either.
    LAUREN
    (softening)
    I’m sorry. It’s not up to me.
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    TRUMAN
    (crestfallen)
    You have a boyfriend? Of course you do.
    Lauren looks about her, unsure.
    LAUREN
    No…I, er.
    TRUMAN
    (hopeful once again)
    No? Really? Good, I mean, I thought
    possibly a pizza. How about Friday?
    LAUREN
    No.
    TRUMAN
    Saturday?
    Lauren looks around the almost-deserted library.
    TRUMAN
    Actually, I’m free Sunday.
    LAUREN
    Now.
    TRUMAN
    Right now? We’ve got finals tomorrow.
    LAUREN
    If we don’t go now, it won’t happen.
    Truman hesitates.
    LAUREN
    (impatient, looking anxiously
    around)
    Well, what do you want to do?
    TRUMAN
    (closing his books, still a
    little uncertain)
    I think I’ve studied enough.
    PLAYBACK – EXT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS NEAR SEAHAVEN COLLEGE. NIGHT.
    LAUREN, taking TRUMAN by the hand, runs down various streets
    and paths through the campus. She occasionally pauses and
    looks about her, often changing direction or looking up at
    streetlights and the towers of houses along their route, as
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    if trying to elude an unseen pursuer.
    The excited and apprehensive Truman runs with her although he
    is unsure exactly who, or what, they are running from.
    The further they get from the campus, the higher, wider and
    less effective the coverage of the scene – some camera angles
    are even partially obscured.
    PLAYBACK – EXT. HIGHWAY – WESTERN END OF TOWN. NIGHT.
    TRUMAN and LAUREN eventually cross an empty highway on the edge
    of town.
    They run over the dunes onto a strangely deserted beach and
    down to the water’s edge under a hyper-real full moon.
    Lauren throws off her cardigan and hitches up her skirt,
    wading out into the inviting water without another thought.
    Truman stares down, transfixed by the shimmering water.
    LAUREN
    (splashing)
    It’s beautiful! What are you waiting for?
    TRUMAN
    (nervous)
    I…I can’t.
    Lauren suddenly stops splashing.
    LAUREN
    That’s right. Oh, God, I’m sorry.
    She wades out of the water.
    TRUMAN
    (confused)
    Why, Lauren? You’ve got nothing to be
    sorry about?
    Lauren, dripping wet, stands besides Truman at the shoreline. She
    meets his gaze.
    LAUREN
    My name’s not Lauren. It’s Sylvia.
    Truman looks into her eyes and believes her. Truman wipes
    the water from her face, then leans forward and gently kisses
    her lips. She kisses him back.
    INT. A BAR SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
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    In a quiet bar room, a WAITRESS explains her viewpoint to the
    BARMAN. A PATRON on a barstool eavesdrops.
    WAITRESS
    Don’t you get it? She was willing to lose
    him, lose everything, if it meant he could
    find himself.
    (registering the barman’s
    blank look)
    Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.
    PLAYBACK – EXT. BEACH. NIGHT.
    As we return to Truman’s reminiscence, TRUMAN and SYLVIA (as
    she is now called throughout the remainder of the movie) sit
    on the sand at the water’s edge. With great delicacy, Truman
    traces the outline of her nose with his finger, at the same
    time inhaling her scent. Sylvia looks nervously around her.
    Truman goes to say something, but Sylvia hushes him.
    SYLVIA
    They’re coming. Any minute.
    TRUMAN
    (looking around the deserted beach)
    Who?
    SYLVIA
    They’re going to stop me talking to you.
    TRUMAN
    (confused)
    There’s no one here.
    SYLVIA
    (looking over her shoulder
    nervously)
    Just listen. You remember when you were a
    little boy, you stood up in class and
    said you wanted to be an explorer like
    Magellan–
    TRUMAN
    (incredulous)
    –How do you know about that?
    SYLVIA
    –And your teacher said, “You’re too late,
    Truman. There’s nothing left to explore.”
    TRUMAN
    Were you there–how do you know?
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    SYLVIA
    –It doesn’t matter. Everybody knows
    about it. They know everything you do.
    The point is, you got scared.
    TRUMAN
    I don’t understand.
    SYLVIA
    (looking over her shoulder,
    increasingly nervous)
    You must listen. Everybody’s pretending,
    Truman.
    She points to the sky and scoops up the sea at their feet.
    SYLVIA
    You think this is real? It’s all for
    you. A show.
    (frustrated, raving)
    The eyes are everywhere. They’re
    watching you – right now.
    Suddenly a car’s headlights come bouncing over the dunes.
    The car roars across the beach towards the couple.
    SYLVIA
    (scared)
    I told you, Truman!
    The car skids to a stop and a large MAN, 40ish, with a shock of
    red hair, jumps from the car. The man yanks the frightened
    Sylvia to her feet, causing her cardigan to fall to the ground.
    MAN
    (to Sylvia, oddly sympathetic)
    Lauren, sweetheart, not again. Get in
    the car!
    Truman jumps in.
    TRUMAN
    Hey, who the hell are you?!
    MAN
    I’m her father!
    TRUMAN
    We weren’t doing anything.
    SYLVIA
    He’s not my father! He’s just saying
    that! Does he look anything like me?!
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    MAN
    Come on, Sweetheart.
    The Man gently, but firmly, pushes Sylvia towards his car. Sylvia
    resists. Truman crosses to them.
    TRUMAN
    I’ll take care of her!
    The Man takes Truman aside and whispers in his ear.
    MAN
    (whispered, out of Sylvia’s earshot)
    Schizophrenia. She has episodes.
    Doubts start crowding into Truman’s head.
    SYLVIA
    (calling out from the car)
    Don’t listen to him, Truman. I’m telling you
    the truth!
    MAN
    (getting into the car)
    Don’t bother! We’re moving to…Fiji – the
    Fiji Islands! This place has done
    something to her head.
    INT. A DIMLY-LIT ROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT – PRESENT.
    CHRISTOF stares intently into camera. Beside him is his
    assistant, CHLOE, an androgynous-looking young woman. She
    too stares into camera.
    CHRISTOF
    At least he didn’t say “New York City.”
    PLAYBACK – EXT. BEACH. NIGHT.
    TRUMAN stares after the car as it roars away. He turns back
    toward the ocean where his attention is caught by an object
    lying on the sand – Sylvia’s cardigan.
    INT. TRUMAN’S BASEMENT. NIGHT – PRESENT.
    TRUMAN carefully places the cardigan back into the trunk.
    INT. A KITCHEN SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    MOTHER, DAUGHTER and BABY stare into camera.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    DAUGHTER
    But why didn’t he just follow her
    to Fiji?
    MOTHER
    Because his mother got sick – very
    sick. He couldn’t leave her. He’s a
    kind boy, maybe too kind.
    DAUGHTER
    I can’t believe he married Meryl on
    the rebound.
    INT. BASEMENT. NIGHT.
    TRUMAN turns his attention to the framed photograph of Meryl
    that he carries everywhere. Hidden behind her photo is a
    composite picture of Sylvia which Truman has constructed by
    pasting together individual facial features – nose, mouth, ears,
    chin, hair – gathered, presumably, from women’s magazines. He
    attempts to put the jigsaw puzzle together – although he has
    particular difficulty finding a pair of eyes that match.
    From his pocket he takes a recent collection of eyes which,
    like a detective working on an identikit picture, he tries to
    match. They are still not quite right.
    INT. AN APARTMENT SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    The eyes of a YOUNG WOMAN – blue-green eyes. She turns
    slightly, looking directly into camera. We pull back to
    reveal her face – SYLVIA.
    EXT. TRUMAN’S STREET. EARLY MORNING.
    Dawn breaks over Truman’s street. On cue, the sound of birds.
    EXT. STREET OUTSIDE TRUMAN’S HOUSE. MORNING.
    TRUMAN leaves the house, lost in thought. SPENCER is taking
    out the trash.
    SPENCER
    How’s it going, Truman?
    Truman hardly acknowledges Spencer. PLUTO the dog fails to
    receive his usual pat. The wave from the WASHINGTON’s across
    the street is also not returned.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    INT/EXT. CAR/STREET OUTSIDE TRUMAN’S HOUSE. DAY.
    TRUMAN motors down the street, switching on the car radio
    as usual.
    RADIO ANNOUNCER
    –Don’t forget to buckle up out there in
    radioland. It’s another glorious…
    ..morrrninggg…innn… Seaaaa…
    haaaa…vennn…f…o…l…k…s…
    The Announcer’s voice slows down – now revealing itself to be
    a tape that has worn out. Truman, perplexed, looks at the
    radio and pushes buttons in an attempt to find another
    station. He finds one.
    FEMALE VOICE
    (from radio)
    …west on Stewart…he’s making a right
    on Holden…
    Truman glances up at the street signs along his route and
    finds that they correspond exactly with the streets quoted
    on the radio. Distracted, he almost bowls over an OLD LADY
    on a crosswalk.
    MALE VOICE
    (from radio)
    …God, he almost hit Marilyn! He’s on
    the move again, passing the library…
    Truman, readjusts the radio as it starts to fade out.
    Suddenly, there is a piercing blast of feedback. He looks up
    and, as far as the eye can see, every PEDESTRIAN, MOTORIST
    and SHOPKEEPER along the street suddenly winces in pain and
    holds their right ear at exactly the same moment.
    MALE VOICE
    (from radio, in distress himself)
    …Something’s wrong. Change frequencies…
    Truman tries to pick up the channel once again but without
    success.
    EXT. PARKING LOT. MORNING.
    TRUMAN sits in his car, drinking his coffee, taking in the
    recent incident. From inside the adjacent school, he hears
    the familiar, excited squeals and chatter of SCHOOL CHILDREN.
    Truman suddenly throws aside his coffee and sprints across
    the parking lot and into the school.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    INT. SEAHAVEN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. MORNING.
    TRUMAN slams through the front doors into the reception area.
    It is deserted, no one stationed at the administration desk,
    the corridors empty. He runs down a vacant corridor, finally
    standing outside a classroom. The children’s voices can
    still be heard from inside. Truman bursts through the door.
    The room is empty save for a large reel-to-reel tape recorder
    on the teacher’s desk playing a continuous tape of children’s
    voices. The recorder is attached to speakers on tall stands
    facing the ventilation ducts. Truman stares at the machine
    in disbelief.
    EXT. STREET – DOWNTOWN. DAY.
    TRUMAN, still lost in thought, exits the school. He stops at
    the newsstand and picks up a magazine to resume his ritual
    search, but his heart is not in it. He replaces the magazine
    without taking a cutting – much to the surprise of the NEWS
    VENDOR.
    Truman starts his trek to work, pausing to stare at his
    reflection in the mirrored building, hoping that the Homeless
    Man will appear once again at his side. No one joins him.
    EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET. DAY.
    Entering his own building with fellow OFFICE WORKERS, TRUMAN
    remains in the revolving door and re-emerges on the street.
    EXT. CITY STREETS. DAY.
    TRUMAN wanders aimlessly through a city park, observing. We
    sense, truly observing for the first time.
    A YOUNG WOMAN walks a pair of AFGHAN HOUNDS. An OLD MAN
    answers the incessant questions of his GRANDCHILD. Nothing
    appears amiss, Truman takes a seat at a small, outdoor cafe.
    He fidgets with his father’s ring on his finger that contains
    one large stone, still looking for a false move.
    A DELIVERY MAN unloads boxes from the back of his truck and
    carries them into a store. Further down the street
    CONSTRUCTION WORKERS take their time tending to an electrical
    repair in an exposed manhole. A POSTAL WORKER does his
    rounds. An OLD WOMAN struggles with two heavy shopping bags.
    Everybody appears natural, places to go.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    INT. A DIMLY-LIT ROOM SOMEWHERE. DAY.
    CHRISTOF and CHOLE stare into camera. Christof leans forward
    and speaks.
    CHRISTOF
    …Everybody stay focussed. Remember who
    you are.
    EXT. CAFE. DAY.
    TRUMAN turns his attention to a group of CUBAN-LOOKING MEN at
    the only other occupied table at the cafe. We see extreme
    close-ups as Truman scans the men’s faces for any sign of
    phoniness. They are talking loudly, making suggestive
    comments to the WAITRESS. Their behavior passes the test –
    all seems genuine.
    Then, Truman notices TWO JOGGERS out for a morning run,
    making their way down the street towards him. Truman happens
    to glance at the sneakers of one of the joggers. He suddenly
    springs to his feet. Truman blocks the joggers.
    TRUMAN
    It’s you…isn’t it?
    The Joggers attempt to sidestep Truman.
    JOGGER 1
    Excuse me.
    TRUMAN
    Remember? Two days ago I gave you my
    meatball sandwich in the park. You were
    in a wheelchair. Same sneakers.
    The jogger looks down at his distinctive sneakers bearing the
    initials, “T.S.”, and visibly blanches.
    JOGGER 2
    (coming to his companion’s aid)
    Get the hell out of here.
    The second jogger roughly shoves Truman aside. Truman calls
    out after the two men.
    TRUMAN
    (ironically referring to the
    Jogger’s new-found mobility)
    It’s a miracle!
    Truman picks himself up, dusting dirt from his suit. He
    retrieves his briefcase and continues down the street with
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    renewed purpose.
    EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET. DAY.
    Wandering down the bustling street, TRUMAN suddenly bolts
    into a building at random.
    INT. OFFICE BUILDING. DAY.
    An imposing office building clad in the kind of reflective
    glass that shields its occupants from the world – a building
    Truman passes every day. A steady stream of EMPLOYEES and
    VISITORS enter and exit the building’s high-ceilinged lobby
    past an intimidating security desk manned by TWO UNIFORMED
    GUARDS. Beyond security are banks of elevators, ferrying
    executives, clerical staff and delivery personnel to and from
    their floors of business.
    Truman abruptly enters reception and strides confidently
    past the security desk trying to look as if he belongs.
    SECURITY GUARD 1
    (to Truman)
    Can I help?
    TRUMAN
    (sneaking a glance at the
    building directory)
    I have an appointment at, er…Gable
    Enterprises.
    SECURITY GUARD 1
    They went bust.
    The second Security Guard is rising from his seat to block
    Truman’s path to the elevators, but Truman reads his mind and
    makes a dash for it – into one of the elevators.
    A YOUNG WOMAN in the elevator looks in horror at Truman – the
    cause of her concern all too apparent. Looking beyond the
    Woman, Truman discovers that there is no back to the elevator
    car. The PEOPLE Truman has just witnessed entering other
    elevators are milling around a refreshment table, primping or
    sitting on folding chairs. Gradually, they all turn to gape
    at Truman, who in turn stares back, appalled. Truman’s view
    is abruptly blocked as a rear panel is hastily attached to
    the elevator. A Security Guard pulls Truman from the car.
    TRUMAN
    What’s going on?
    SECURITY GUARD 1
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    (glancing to the lights above
    the elevator, trying to appear
    innocent)
    Nothing.
    Truman observes the upward progress of the elevator via the
    light display above the doorway. Before he has time to make
    sense of it, the guards drag him away.
    SECURITY GUARD 2
    You’ve got to leave.
    The Guards frog-march Truman out of the facade towards an
    Emergency Exit.
    TRUMAN
    Just tell me what’s going on?
    SECURITY GUARD 2
    We’re re-modeling.
    TRUMAN
    No, you’re not!! What were those people
    doing in there?
    SECURITY GUARD 1
    (shrugs)
    It’s none of my business.
    (ushering Truman off the
    property)
    None of yours, either.
    TRUMAN
    (not going quietly)
    You don’t tell me what’s really going on,
    I’ll report you.
    TRUMAN continues to struggle as the GUARDS usher him to the
    street.
    SECURITY GUARD 2
    For what? You’re trespassing!
    EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET. DAY.
    TRUMAN continues to struggle as the GUARDS unceremoniously
    dump him on the pavement. He picks himself up, head reeling,
    and starts to run along the street. He suddenly enters
    another building at random. An office block with a bank on
    the ground floor.
    Truman rushes to the elevators. The lights above the doors
    show all the elevator on upper floors. Frantic pressing of
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    the elevator button gets no response. A RECEPTIONIST rises
    from her desk. Truman heads for the stairs, but is
    intercepted by a BANK OFFICIAL barring his way.
    TRUMAN
    I want to…
    The Bank Official, the Receptionist, and a BANK TELLER back
    Truman towards the door.
    BANK OFFICIAL
    …Open an account?
    TRUMAN
    Yes. Er, why not?
    RECEPTIONIST
    Savings or checking?
    BANK OFFICIAL
    Let’s go up to my office.
    Truman hurriedly exits the bank.
    EXT. STREET. DAY.
    Back on the street, TRUMAN feels the eyes of the PEDESTRIANS.
    Is he simply drawing attention to himself by his behavior?
    Truman wheels around, trying to make eye contact with passersby.
    They shy away. He continues to run down the street.
    Finally, Truman finds himself standing in front of the
    window of an electronics store staring at his own face on a
    TV set. It is taking a feed from a camcorder aimed out the
    store window.
    INT. A BATHROOM SOMEWHERE. DAY.
    A MAN stares into camera from a bath of stale water – a layer
    of soap scum on the top.
    MAN
    Don’t look at me, pal.
    EXT. STREET – ELECTRONICS STORE. DAY.
    TRUMAN shudders at his video reflection. Further down the
    street, he notices Marlon’s van parked outside a supermarket.
    INT. SUPERMARKET. DAY.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    The door of a vending machine is open. MARLON, half inside
    the machine, loads a stack of Baby Ruth candy bars into one
    of the dispensing slots. The paranoid TRUMAN appears at his
    shoulder.
    TRUMAN
    Marlon–
    MARLON
    (startled)
    –Truman, what are you doing here?
    Truman looks nervously around him. Even the STORE OWNER’s
    friendly nod from behind the counter is cause for suspicion
    in Truman’s mind.
    TRUMAN
    (whisper)
    I’ve got to talk to you.
    MARLON
    Sorry, I’m way behind.
    TRUMAN
    I’m onto something, Marlon – something big.
    MARLON
    Are you okay? You look like shit.
    TRUMAN
    I think I’m mixed up in something.
    MARLON
    Mixed up? Mixed up in what?
    TRUMAN
    There’s no point in trying to explain it,
    but a lot of strange things have been
    happening – elevators that don’t go
    anywhere, people talking about me on
    the radio, you know what I mean?
    MARLON
    (bemused)
    No. Truman, if this is another one of
    your fantasies…
    TRUMAN
    I think it’s got something to do with
    my dad.
    MARLON
    Your Dad?!
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    TRUMAN
    (looking around nervously)
    I think he’s alive. I’ll tell you about
    it later. I’m definitely being followed.
    MARLON
    (looking around, instantly
    protective)
    Who?
    TRUMAN
    It’s hard to tell. They look just like
    regular people.
    MARLON
    (referring to an OLD COUPLE
    entering the deli)
    How about them?
    TRUMAN
    (seriously considering the
    possibility)
    Could be. Beard looks phony.
    (leaning closer to Marlon)
    It’s when I’m unpredictable. They can’t
    stand that. That’s why we’ve got to get
    out of here. Can you come with me?
    MARLON
    (closing up the vending machine)
    I told you I can’t.
    TRUMAN
    I’ve got to show you something.
    Truman fixes Marlon with a look of deadly seriousness.
    MARLON
    (weakening)
    Christ, Truman. You’re gonna get both
    our asses fired.
    EXT. SEAHAVEN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. DAY.
    TRUMAN hurries MARLON up the school steps. The sound of
    children’s voices continues to drift out from inside the
    building. Truman and Marlon storm into the school reception
    area – still empty.
    INT. SCHOOL CORRIDOR. DAY.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    TRUMAN and MARLON stand outside the classroom, the source of
    the children’s voices. Truman throws his friend an “I-told-
    you-so” look and swings open the door with a flourish.
    INT. CLASSROOM. DAY.
    The once-empty classroom is now full of SCHOOL CHILDREN in an
    art class. A hush falls over the students and all eyes turn
    to TRUMAN and MARLON.
    TEACHER
    (gesturing to two unoccupied
    easels)
    Would you care to join us?
    EXT. CLIFFTOP – DUSK
    Hand-over-hand, TRUMAN climbs the cliff he once scaled as a
    seven-year-old. Finally, he sits on the clifftop, staring
    out at the view his father had been so desperate for him not
    to see twenty-six years earlier. However, the deserted bay
    beyond is identical to its neighbor. MARLON, laboring,
    crests the rise and joins his friend on the clifftop.
    MARLON
    What’re we doing here, Truman?
    TRUMAN
    This is where it started.
    MARLON
    What exactly?
    TRUMAN
    Things. Things that doesn’t fit.
    (another thought occurs)
    Maybe I’m being set up for something.
    You ever feel like that, Marlon? Like
    your whole life has been building to
    something?
    MARLON
    (blank)
    No.
    TRUMAN
    (ignoring the remark)
    When you were hauling chickens for Kaiser
    Poultry, what was the furthest you ever
    went off the island?
    MARLON
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    I went all over but I never found a place
    like this.
    (nodding to the setting sun)
    Look at that sunset, Truman. It’s perfect.
    TRUMAN
    (in a daze)
    Yeah…
    MARLON
    (glancing heavenwards)
    That’s the “Big Guy”. Quite a paintbrush
    he’s got.
    TRUMAN
    Just between you and me, Marlon, I’m
    going away for a while.
    MARLON
    Really?
    INT. LIVING ROOM – TRUMAN’S HOUSE. NIGHT.
    Truman sits cramped on his sofa. Pulling wider, we discover
    the cause of his discomfort. He is sandwiched between MERYL
    on one side and MOTHER on the other. Mother, the family
    historian, a stack of photograph albums at her feet, turns
    the pages of the album on Truman’s lap.
    TRUMAN
    We ought to be getting you back, Mother.
    MOTHER
    Hold on a minute, dear.
    (pointing out a photo in the album)
    Here’s us at Mount Rushmore. You
    remember, Truman–when Dad was still with
    us – that was quite a drive. You slept
    all the way there.
    TRUMAN
    (taking an interest in the
    monument)
    It looks so small.
    MOTHER
    (quickly turning the page)
    Things always do–when you look back.
    Mother skips several pages in the album, finally stopping at
    a spread of wedding photos.
    MERYL
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Look, Truman, there’s my cousin Errol
    putting the bouquet down his pants – it
    was the happiest day of our lives.
    MOTHER
    (referring to Meryl)
    Didn’t she look beautiful, Truman? She
    still does.
    Mother turns to a blank page in the album.
    MOTHER
    And there’s plenty of room for baby
    photos. I’d like to hold a grandchild
    in my arms–
    (dabbing her eye with a handkerchief)
    –before I go.
    Meryl rises from the sofa and helps Mother to her walker.
    MERYL
    I’ll take you home, Angela.
    (referring to the album)
    Why don’t you leave those with us for
    a while?
    TRUMAN
    (kissing his emotional mother)
    Good night, Mother.
    MERYL
    (a wink to Truman)
    See you in a minute, sweetheart.
    Meryl departs with Mother. Left alone in the living room,
    Truman slumps back down onto the sofa and switches on the
    television set – an old-fashioned model with rabbit-ears.
    He idly studies the photograph album as an over-earnest
    television HOST announces the upcoming program.
    TV HOST
    –Tonight’s golden-oldies is the
    enduring, much-loved classic, “Show Me
    The Way To Go Home”. A hymn of praise
    to small-town life where we learn that
    you don’t have to leave home to
    discover what the world is all about
    and that no one is poor who has
    friends…
    However, when we turn our attention away from the
    television, we find that Truman is peering intently at a
    wedding photograph of Meryl and himself taking their vows in
    a civil ceremony in a beachside gazebo. Under the scrutiny
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    of a magnifying glass, he discovers that Meryl has her
    fingers crossed.
    INT. A LIVING ROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    The TWO LADIES sit on their sofa, a rug across their
    knees, sipping a night cap of hot chocolate. They stare into
    camera.
    OLD LADY 1
    Remember at the wedding – that dog?
    OLD LADY 2
    Started howling when they took their vows.
    OLD LADY 1
    And the plastic horseshoe fell off when
    they cut the cake.
    OLD LADY 2
    (shaking her head ruefully)
    They never had a chance.
    INT. KITCHEN. MORNING.
    TRUMAN, dressed casually in weekend attire, is at the stove
    preparing an omelette. MERYL hurries into the kitchen in her
    nurse’s uniform. She gulps down a cup of coffee and reaches
    for her nurse’s cap.
    However, she still has time to adjust the position of a pack of
    “FiberCon Cereal” – squaring it a little more to camera.
    TRUMAN
    I have to talk with you.
    (looking about, suspicious)
    But not here. Let’s go for a walk.
    MERYL
    (kissing him on the cheek)
    I’m sorry, I’m late.
    TRUMAN
    What’s the hurry?
    MERYL
    Surgery. The elevator disaster downtown
    on the news last night. Cable snapped, a
    car dropped ten floors. Non-union
    contractors. Monsters. We’re starting
    with an amputation.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Truman’s eyes widen. Meryl adjusts her hat in the mirror.
    MERYL
    That building’s near yours. Imagine if
    you’d been in there for some reason. It
    doesn’t bear thinking about.
    Truman, lost in thought, picks up the scalding frying pan with
    his bare hand. Letting out a howl of pain, he drops the pan.
    TRUMAN
    Arrah!
    MERYL
    Oh, my God!
    TRUMAN
    What do I do?
    MERYL
    I don’t know–
    TRUMAN
    –you’re a nurse, aren’t you?
    MERYL
    Put some butter on it–or ice?
    She looks up the kitchen clock.
    MERYL
    (hurrying out the door)
    Oh, look at the time.
    Truman stares after her, the pain of his hand forgotten for the
    moment. He watches Meryl ride her bicycle down the driveway.
    Truman exits the house.
    EXT. SEAHAVEN STREET/HOSPITAL/PARKING LOT. DAY.
    Riding a bicycle of his own, TRUMAN follows MERYL to work,
    staying a safe distance back. He watches her enter the
    hospital.
    INT. HOSPITAL. DAY.
    TRUMAN makes his way along various corridors. All seems as
    it should – DOCTORS confer with NURSING STAFF and PATIENTS,
    gurneys are wheeled about with their PASSENGERS looking
    suitably traumatized. Truman approaches a NURSING SISTER.
    TRUMAN
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    I’m looking for my wife–Nurse Burbank.
    It’s important.
    NURSE
    (checking her clipboard)
    I’m afraid that’s impossible–she’s in pre-op.
    TRUMAN
    Sure. Okay. Fine. Can you pass on a
    message?
    NURSE
    I’ll try.
    TRUMAN
    Tell her, tell her…I had to go to Fiji.
    I’ll call her when I get there.
    NURSE
    When you get to Fiji?
    TRUMAN
    You got it.
    NURSE
    Fine. I’ll tell her.
    The nurse walks off, disappearing through a set of doors.
    Truman hesitates before following her.
    INT. VARIOUS HOSPITAL CORRIDORS. DAY.
    The NURSE walks briskly – fewer people about, TRUMAN
    discreetly following behind. The nurse breaks into a jog.
    Truman hurries to keep up with her – dodging around gurneys,
    JANITORS mopping floors.
    INT. OUTSIDE OPERATING THEATRE. DAY.
    The NURSE, hastily scrubbed and gowned, enters the theatre. TRUMAN
    hesitates but dares not enter. He grabs a mask of his own.
    Looking through the glass window in the operating theatre
    door, he sees the YOUNG WOMAN (seen in the hastily fixed
    elevator car the day before) lying on the operating table, a
    blood-soaked bandage covering her left leg. MERYL, wearing a
    surgical gown and mask, assists the SURGEON. The SISTER
    hovers nervously in the background.
    SURGEON
    Scalpel.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Meryl very slowly selects a scalpel from a tray of instruments
    and awkwardly hands it to the surgeon.
    SURGEON
    I’m now making my primary incision just
    above the left knee.
    The patient’s eyes blink open in horror. The ANESTHETIST
    steps in Truman’s view before he can get a good look.
    Suddenly, a SECURITY GUARD appears beside Truman and takes
    him by the arm.
    SECURITY GUARD
    (referring to the operation)
    This isn’t gonna be pretty. Unless
    you’re family of the patient, I’ll have
    to ask you to leave.
    TRUMAN
    No problem. I don’t want to cause any
    trouble.
    INT. TRAVEL AGENCY. DAY.
    TRUMAN takes a seat at the only desk in an empty travel
    agency. The travel brochures and posters that adorn the
    walls all feature destinations that bear a striking
    similarity to picturesque Seahaven. Another poster spells
    out the dangers of travel – “TRAVELLERS BEWARE – Terrorists,
    Disease, Wild Animals, Street Gangs”. A female TRAVEL AGENT
    enters from a rear door.
    AGENT
    I’m sorry to keep you. How can I help?
    TRUMAN
    I want to book a flight to Fiji.
    AGENT
    Where exactly?
    TRUMAN
    (believing she is being deliberately obtuse)
    Fiji.
    AGENT
    (a trace of condescension)
    Where in Fiji? What island?
    TRUMAN
    I’m sorry, er…the biggest one.
    AGENT
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    (entering the destination in
    her computer)
    Viti Levu. For how many?
    TRUMAN
    (finding the question suspicious)
    One.
    AGENT
    When do you want to leave, remembering, of
    course, you do lose a day on the way there?
    TRUMAN
    Today.
    AGENT
    (reading off her computer screen)
    I’m sorry. I don’t have anything for at
    least a month.
    TRUMAN
    (suspicious)
    A month.
    AGENT
    (patiently explaining)
    It’s the busy season.
    TRUMAN
    (paranoia showing)
    You are a travel agent, aren’t you?
    (reading her nametag)
    “Doris”? Your job is to help people
    travel.
    AGENT
    (showing amazing restraint)
    I do have a fabulous rate on a cruise
    ship departing for Fiji tomorrow. But
    you wouldn’t want to do that.
    TRUMAN
    Why wouldn’t I?
    AGENT
    I thought you were in a hurry.
    TRUMAN
    (calming down)
    That’s right.
    AGENT
    You want to book the flight?
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    TRUMAN
    It doesn’t matter. I’ll make other
    arrangements.
    EXT. CITY STREET. DAY.
    Emerging onto the street, TRUMAN looks across to the building
    which he entered the previous day. It is now cordoned off
    with police tape after the elevator disaster. Flowers have
    been laid at the doorway.
    EXT. GREYHOUND BUS STATION. DAY.
    A Greyhound Bus, bound for “CHICAGO” according to its
    destination sign, sits idling at the stop. Just as a burly
    SUPERVISOR is about to wave the bus on its way, TRUMAN dashes
    into the station.
    BUS DRIVER
    Last call for Chicago.
    Truman jumps onto the bus behind the last boarding passenger
  • a YOUNG SOLDIER.
    TRUMAN
    (to the Bus Driver, as he
    boards the bus)
    Windy City, here we come.
    INT. GREYHOUND BUS. DAY.
    TRUMAN takes a seat by a window. An awkward silence descends
    over the bus. The other passengers – a MOTHER with a
    restless CHILD, several TOURISTS, an OLD COUPLE and the YOUNG
    SOLDIER – all stare stiffly straight ahead, averting their
    eyes from Truman.
    No one is more uncomfortable than the BUS DRIVER. Beads of
    perspiration on his head, he fumbles for the gear shift,
    apparently unsure how to operate it. The gears grind.
    The OTHER PASSENGERS try not to notice. The CHILD, tugging
    her MOTHER’s sleeve, points to Truman. Her mother makes her
    face the front of the bus. Finally the SUPERVISOR enters the
    bus.
    SUPERVISOR
    Everybody off. We’ve got a problem.
    The relieved passengers hurriedly exit until Truman is the
    only one remaining on the bus. The Bus Driver looks almost
    sorry for Truman who sits resolutely in his seat – the hint
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    of a tear of frustration in his eyes.
    BUS DRIVER
    (softly)
    I’m sorry, son.
    INT. A BAR SOMEWHERE. DAY.
    The bar seen earlier. A small group of PATRONS discuss
    developments. The WAITRESS seems upset, occasionally
    glancing to camera as she pours a beer.
    PATRON 1
    Why would he want to go to Chicago? Who
    does he know from there?
    PATRON 2
    His doctor came from Chicago, didn’t he?
    PATRON 1
    Wasn’t his father from Chicago?
    WAITRESS
    (upset)
    He’s not going to Chicago. He’s not going
    anywhere. He has to have it out with Meryl.
    EXT. STREET – TRUMAN’S BICYCLE. DAY.
    As TRUMAN rides home on his bicycle, he stares wildly about
    him – the rearview mirror on his bicycle is suddenly cause for
    concern, so are the trees and streetlamps lining the roadway.
    EXT. TRUMAN’S BACKYARD. DAY.
    TRUMAN, staring at the highway from the bottom of the garden,
    doesn’t bother to look up as MERYL, still wearing her nurse’s
    uniform, approaches.
    TRUMAN
    (referring to a distant car on
    the expressway)
    See that car way down there? I bet it’s
    a Suburu station wagon.
    Meryl looks idly over the fence at the approaching car.
    Finally, a Suburu station wagon motors by. Meryl is
    unimpressed. Truman turns his back on the highway to
    continue his game.
    TRUMAN
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    I predict the next four cars will be a
    white Honda Civic, a blue and white Dodge
    Dart with the front hubcap missing, a
    Volkswagen Beetle with a dented fender
    and a motorcycle.
    Meryl doesn’t wish to participate in the game and makes for
    the house. Truman holds her arm, forcing her to watch. He
    turns to check his prediction. A convoy of cars approaches.
    TRUMAN
    There’s the Honda…the Dodge…here
    comes that dented Beetle…
    Meryl’s attention wavers. Truman tightens his grip.
    TRUMAN
    Look!
    Following the VW is a school bus.
    MERYL
    (mocking)
    Where’s the motorcycle?
    Truman is momentarily disappointed.
    TRUMAN
    Don’t you want to know how I did that?
    A motorcycle putters by. Meryl turns and walks back to the
    house. He hurries after her.
    MERYL
    I invited Marlon and Rita for a barbeque
    Sunday. I thought I’d make my potato
    salad. Remind me–
    TRUMAN
    I won’t be here Sunday.
    MERYL
    –we need more charcoal.
    TRUMAN
    Are you listening to a word I’m saying?
    MERYL
    You’re upset because you want to go to
    Fiji. Is that it?
    Truman is puzzled by her conciliatory tone.
    MERYL
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Okay, do it. Get it out of your system.
    Save for a few months and go. There.
    Happy now? I’m going to take a shower.
    She turns away.
    TRUMAN
    (catching her wrist)
    Let’s go now.
    MERYL
    What?!
    Despite her protests, Truman drags Meryl towards his car.
    TRUMAN
    (as he shoves her into the car)
    I’m ready to go now. Why wait?
    INT. TRUMAN’S CAR. DAY.
    TRUMAN holds MERYL’s wrist to stop her exiting the car and
    accelerates out of the driveway in reverse without looking –
    almost running over PLUTO the dog and SPENCER with his
    garbage can.
    Truman starts circling a gazebo at the center of a
    roundabout, faster and faster.
    TRUMAN
    Where shall we go? Where shall we go?
    Spontaneity is what it’s all about.
    Forget Fiji. We can’t very well drive to
    Fiji, can we? What about Atlantic City?
    MERYL
    (trying to mask her anxiety)
    You hate gambling.
    TRUMAN
    That’s right. I do, don’t I?
    MERYL
    So why do you want to go?
    TRUMAN
    Because I never have. That’s why you go
    places, isn’t it?
    MERYL
    Truman, I think I’m going to throw up.
    Truman roars off down the street.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    TRUMAN
    Me too.
    Almost immediately, Truman encounters a traffic snarl.
    TRUMAN
    (a manic edge to his voice)
    So much traffic, this time of day.
    Does that strike you as peculiar?
    Without warning, Truman suddenly dives down a sidestreet. But
    his move is anticipated. At the end of the street, a pack of
    cars suddenly appears. Other vehicles fill the gap behind.
    TRUMAN
    (to Meryl, marveling)
    Blocked at every turn. Beautifully
    synchronized, don’t you agree?
    MERYL
    (incredulous)
    You blaming me for the traffic?
    TRUMAN
    Should I?
    Truman reverses suddenly and makes a U-turn.
    TRUMAN
    You’re right. We could be stuck here
    for hours. Could be like this all
    the way to Atlantic City. Let’s go
    back. I’m sorry. I don’t know what
    got into me.
    Truman starts heading back the way they came, the roadway now
    relatively free of traffic.
    MERYL
    Would you please slow down, Truman?
    Truman floors the car. The car flies past their house.
    MERYL
    Truman, that was our house!
    TRUMAN
    I’ve changed my mind again. What’s New
    Orleans like this time of year? Mardi
    Gras. Or let’s just see where the road
    takes us.
    MERYL
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    (pleading)
    Let me out, Truman. You’re not right in
    the head. You want to destroy yourself,
    you do it on your own!
    TRUMAN
    (eerily calm)
    I think I’d like a little company.
    As he speeds erratically, Truman glances at the streets on
    either side of the main road where he discovers a distinct
    lack of moving traffic.
    TRUMAN
    (to the anxious Meryl at his side)
    Look, Meryl. No cars! I don’t run into
    traffic. The traffic follows me around.
    (excited by his discovery)
    We’re in a moving pack, don’t you see?
    INT/EXT. TRUMAN’S CAR – BRIDGE. DAY.
    But TRUMAN’s clear path is short-lived. He is forced to slow
    once again behind a line of other cars at a bridge.
    TRUMAN
    (to Meryl)
    It’s hard to go places, isn’t it?
    MERYL
    (looking up ahead at an
    overturned car)
    There’s been an accident, Truman.
    TRUMAN
    Uhuh. There’s no accident. It’s just
    more stalling.
    Truman floors the car again and swerves into the oncoming
    lane. He roars along the bridge on the wrong side of the
    road. Near the end of the bridge, a distraught MOTORIST
    dashes into the middle of the road, waving his arms. Truman
    slams on the brakes.
    MOTORIST
    (pointing to a small BOY lying
    very still on the ground
    beside a wrecked car)
    –is there a doctor, a nurse?
    MERYL
    Truman, it’s a child. I’ve got to help –
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    TRUMAN
    (hardly glancing to the boy)
    He’ll be fine.
    Truman roars on, almost bowling over the concerned motorist.
    MERYL
    Truman, I took the “hypocrite” oath!
    TRUMAN
    I bet you did.
    Truman roars past a sign that reads, “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING
    SEAHAVEN – Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
    Back at the accident scene, the little boy, apparently
    uninjured, sits up.
    INT/EXT. CAR. DAY.
    They roar pass an illuminated sign – “FOREST FIRE WARNING –
    Extreme Danger”.
    MERYL
    Truman, what about that sign?
    TRUMAN
    I’m sure they’re just exaggerating.
    Suddenly, a 20-foot high wall of flame shoots across the
    roadway in front of them – as if someone flicked on a gas
    switch.
    MERYL
    What about that – do you believe that?!
    TRUMAN experiences his first moment of doubt. He looks to
    the terrified MERYL, then closes his eyes tightly and
    accelerates through the fire wall. He is startled to find
    that they have emerged on the other side, singed but
    unscathed.
    However, the open road in front of them now disturbs Truman
    for a different reason – its sheer lack of anything unusual.
    Signs along the road advertise motels and give directions to
    other destinations – “I-6211 – 2 miles”, “Notel Motel – Pool,
    Color TV”.
    Meryl also now appears to be resigned to the journey.
    MERYL
    So what do we do for money when we get to
    New Orleans?
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    TRUMAN
    (not so confident now)
    I’ve got my Seahaven Bankcard.
    MERYL
    So we just eat into our savings, is that
    the idea? I’d better call your mother
    when we get there. She’ll be worried
    sick – I don’t know how she’s going to
    take this.
    Truman appears very unsure of himself.
    EXT. ROADWAY. DAY.
    However, there is still a barrier between TRUMAN and Bourbon
    Street. The highway, leading to a cloverleaf freeway
    junction in the distance, is completely blocked off by
    Seahaven police cars. No way past. Nuclear silos in the
    distance spew out an ominous puff of smoke. A sign reads,
    “SEAHAVEN ISLAND NUCLEAR POWER STATION – Clean, Safe,
    Economical – More Power To You!”
    Truman is forced to slow at the police barricade.
    TRUMAN
    Now what?
    OFFICER
    (grim-faced, indicating
    the nearby power plant)
    Leak at the plant. They had to shut
    her down.
    TRUMAN
    Is there any way around?
    OFFICER
    The whole area’s being evacuated.
    TRUMAN
    Well, thank you for your help.
    OFFICER
    You’re welcome, Truman.
    Truman’s eyes widen at the mention of his name from an
    apparent stranger. As the officer turns, Truman bolts from
    the car, leaving MERYL in the passenger seat.
    MERYL
    Truman!! Come back!!
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Truman flees into the forest.
    INT. A LIVING ROOM SOMEWHERE. DAY.
    The TWO OLD LADIES we have observed before are almost overcome
    with tension. One lady reaches out for her companion’s hand.
    EXT. FOREST NEAR SEAHAVEN NUCLEAR POWER PLANT. DAY.
    TRUMAN bursts past the alien-looking HAZARDOUS WATER WORKERS
    in their protective suits carrying detection instruments.
    The workers give chase in their cumbersome suits, trying to
    cut off his path.
    Nearing the edge of the forest, Truman hears the sound of
    hammers and saws. But before he has time to see the source
    of the sound, he is tackled to the ground.
    As SEAHAVEN POLICE OFFICERS drag him away, one of the WASTE
    WORKERS walks the remaining few yards, pushing aside a wall
    of tropical foliage. We now see what Truman was prevented
    from seeing.
    A Polynesian island is under construction by dozens of
    RIGGERS, PAINTERS and SET DECORATORS. Large cranes are
    lifting palm trees into place, a fake volcano is being tested
    in the distance and rehearsals for a firewalking ceremony are
    underway complete with hot coals, DRUMMERS and FIREWALKERS in
    native dress.
    The wings and fuselage of an airliner are being constructed
    on a hydraulic gimbal. Leading into one side of the airliner
    is a covered walkway, emblazoned with a sign, “Seahaven
    Island – Departures”. Emerging from the opposite side of the
    airliner is an old-fashioned airline stairway with the sign,
    “Welcome to Fiji”
    At the foot of the steps, TWO WOMEN in Fijian dress are being
    shown the correct way to present a floral lei.
    FIJI WOMAN
    Did he see us?
    WASTE WORKER
    (into microphone)
    Negative.
    INT. TRUMAN’S HOUSE – KITCHEN. NIGHT.
    MERYL shows TWO SEAHAVEN POLICEMEN out the back door.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    MERYL
    Thank you.
    POLICEMAN 1
    You’re lucky he’s not glowing, Ma’am.
    Next time we’ll have to file charges.
    Meryl joins TRUMAN at the kitchen table. Truman applauds
    ironically.
    MERYL
    Let me get you some help, Truman. You’re
    not well.
    TRUMAN
    (ignoring her medical advice)
    Why do you want to have a child with me?
    You can’t stand me.
    MERYL
    That’s not true.
    Meryl picks up a package and holds it to camera.
    MERYL
    Why don’t I make you some of this new
    Mococoa Drink? All natural. Cocoa beans
    from the upper slopes of Mount Nicaragua.
    No artificial sweeteners–
    TRUMAN
    (incredulous)
    –What the hell are you talking about?!
    MERYL
    I’ve tasted other cocoas. This is the best.
    Truman rises from the table and backs her around the room.
    TRUMAN
    What the hell has that got to do with
    anything? Tell me what’s happening?!
    MERYL
    (frightened but remaining
    poised)
    You’re having a nervous breakdown, that’s
    what’s happening.
    TRUMAN
    (backing her up against the
    kitchen bench)
    You’re part of this, aren’t you?!
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Meryl grabs the “Chef’s-Mate” from the counter to protect
    herself. She points the potato peeler at him.
    MERYL
    Truman, you’re scaring me!
    Truman looks into her eyes and, with surprising swiftness,
    grabs her wrist and disarms her.
    TRUMAN
    No, you’re scaring me, Meryl!
    Truman grabs Meryl and turns the Chef’s Mate on her. He
    stares wildly about him.
    TRUMAN
    Stop this now. I’ll do it. I swear.
    MERYL
    Do something…
    Upon hearing her remark, Truman’s eyes widen. Sensing that
    she too is addressing a third person, he jerks her head
    around to read her face.
    TRUMAN
    (wild-eyed)
    Who were you talking to?!
    MERYL
    (incredulous)
    You’re the one talking to the walls!
    TRUMAN
    No. You said, “Do something.” Who were
    you talking to? Tell me!
    MERYL
    Truman, stop it!
    Suddenly, the front door chimes.
    TRUMAN
    Right on time. Cops must be telephatic.
    Truman grabs his peeler and marches Meryl down the hallway to
    the front door. The doorbell chimes a second and third time,
    more insistently.
    TRUMAN
    (shouting through the closed door)
    Stay where you are!
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    MARLON (O.C.)
    Truman? It’s me, Marlon. I need to talk
    to you.
    Truman flinches. He was so convinced it would be the police.
    He takes a step back against the hallway wall. Before he can
    decide what to do, MARLON has opened the unlocked front door
    to be confronted with the sight of Truman holding the peeler
    to Meryl’s throat.
    Marlon locks eyes with Truman. Sizing up the situation, he
    slowly but decisively removes the peeler from Truman’s hand.
    Meryl wrenches herself free from Truman’s now limp grasp and
    collapses into Marlon’s arm, sobbing.
    MERYL
    (distraught)
    How can anyone expect me to carry on
    under these conditions? This
    is…unprofessional.
    EXT. UNFINISHED BRIDGE. NIGHT.
    MARLON and TRUMAN, both nursing bottles of beer, sit on the
    end of the unfinished bridge.
    TRUMAN
    I don’t know what to think, Marlon.
    Maybe I’m going out of my mind, but I
    get the feeling that the world revolves
    around me somehow.
    MARLON
    It’s a lot of world for one man. You sure
    that’s not wishful thinking, you wishing
    you’d made something more of yourself?
    Christ, Truman, who hasn’t sat on the John
    and had an imaginary interview on
    “Seahaven Tonight”? Who hasn’t wanted to
    be somebody?
    TRUMAN
    This is different. Everybody seems to be
    in on it.
    Marlon looks around as if drawing inspiration from somewhere
    in the night.
    MARLON
    Tru, we’ve known each other since before
    we were in long pants. The only way we
    ever made it through high school was
    cheating off each other’s test papers.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Jesus, they were identical. I always
    liked that, because whatever the answer
    was–
    Truman chimes in, nodding fondly at the memory.
    TRUMAN & MARLON
    –we were right together and we were
    wrong together.
    MARLON
    The only night either of us ever spent
    in jail, we spent together and I wet
    myself but you never told anyone. I was
    best man at your wedding and my brother
    was best man at my wedding and you didn’t
    talk to me for a month over that and I
    didn’t blame you because you’ve been more
    of a brother to me than he’s ever been.
    Truman is slowly coming around – Marlon’s speech from the
    heart soothing away his pain.
    MARLON
    I know things haven’t worked out for
    either of us like we used to sit up on
    Monroe Avenue all night and dream they
    would. We all let opportunities pass us
    by. None of us asks for the dance as
    often as we should. I know that feeling
    when it’s like everything’s slipping away
    and you don’t want to believe it so you
    look for answers someplace else. But,
    well, the point is, I would gladly step
    in front of traffic for you.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF stares intently into camera, holding his distinctive
    earpiece to his head. Beside him, his ever-present assistant,
    CHLOE.
    CHRISTOF
    (hushed tones)
    And the last thing I’d ever do is lie
    to you.
    EXT. FREEWAY. NIGHT.
    MARLON
    (staring into Truman’s eyes)
    And the last thing I’d ever do is lie to you.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    (pause)
    Think about it, Truman, if everybody’s
    in on it, I’d have to be in on it too.
    I’m not in on it, because there is no it.
    TRUMAN
    So what are you saying, Marlon, the
    whole thing has been in my head–?
    MARLON
    (meeting his gaze)
    Not the whole thing, Truman. You were
    right about one thing.
    TRUMAN
    What’s that?
    MARLON
    The thing that started all of this.
    TRUMAN looks up in the direction of MARLON’s gaze. A FIGURE
    stands at the end of the freeway – a homeless man. It is his
    father, KIRK.
    MARLON
    Yes, he survived somehow. He’s got quite a
    story to tell.
    Marlon helps Truman to his feet – Truman still transfixed by
    the figure.
    MARLON
    Go to him.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF continues to direct the action from what is now
    revealed to be the control room of a television studio.
    CHRISTOF
    Go wide, LightCam Eight…
    In a wide shot, from one of the streetlights lining the
    empty freeway, we see TRUMAN walking towards his long-lost
    FATHER.
    CHRISTOF
    …CarCam Twelve…and…cue
    music…Beethoven, Third Symphony, Second
    Movement.
    Music swells. Kirk and Truman embrace in the middle of the
    freeway. Truman takes his father’s ring from his own
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    finger.
    CHRISTOF
    …RingCam…
    We see a close up of Kirk from the ring’s POV. Truman places
    the ring in the palm of his father’s hand.
    CHRISTOF
    …ButtonCam Three…
    We see a close up of Truman from a camera on Kirk’s coat.
    TRUMAN
    I never stopped believing.
    KIRK
    (gazing at the ring, then up
    to Truman’s face)
    Thank you…my son.
    CHRISTOF
    And wide…
    SIMEON looks to his director.
    SIMEON
    Close up?
    CHRISTOF
    (staring intently at his
    monitor)
    No, hold back…
    The CREW watches Kirk and Truman embrace.
    KIRK
    All those years, wasted.
    TRUMAN
    We have a lot of years ahead.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF allows himself a smile of satisfaction.
    CHRISTOF
    And fade up music…now go in close…
    As a tight two-shot of father and son fills the screen, the
    orchestra swells with triumphant music.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    EXT. FREEWAY. NIGHT.
    FATHER and SON remain in the embrace. Over Truman’s shoulder,
    we see a flash of guilt flicker across MARLON’s face.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF, emotionally drained by the events, slumps in his
    chair. CHOLE rests a supportive hand on his shoulder. The head
    of the network, MOSES, a man in his seventies, enters with his
    young assistant, ROMAN – their faces full of admiration.
    MOSES
    Well done. Well done, everyone.
    INT. A BEDROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    A YOUNG WOMAN reclines on a bed, her back against the wall.
    Propped up on her knees is a book. However, she’s not
    reading but staring straight into camera – a look of profound
    sadness on her face. It is SYLVIA.
    From her point-of-view, we see a portable television set on a
    table at the foot of the bed.
    On the television is a live picture of TRUMAN – the first
    time we have seen him on a television screen. He is sitting
    at his kitchen table, unaware of the cameras recording him.
    The shot is static. He just sits there in silence, a
    steaming cup of cocoa in front of him and a plate of
    untouched cookies.
    At one point, a sponsor’s border, appears on the screen,
    tastefully framing the “action”, with the message, “MOCOCOA –
    Cocoa beans from the upper slopes of Mount Nicaragua”. After
    several seconds the border disappears.
    Suddenly, the live picture of Truman shrinks into a window on
    the screen to accommodate a title sequence that begins to
    play around the edge of the image. “The Truman Show” theme
    music begins.
    The camera cranes up and over the Hollywood sign, the
    flatlands of Burbank stretching into the distance.
    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    From the network that never sleeps –
    broadcasting live and unedited 24 hours a
    day, 7 days a week, around the globe…
    During this continuous aerial shot, overlapping scenes from
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Truman’s life appear in chronological order, from infancy to
    adolescence and finally adulthood. Photographs of leading
    CAST MEMBERS also appear in individual frames.
    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    …with Hannah Gill as Meryl Burbank,
    Louis Coltrane as Marlon, Alanis Montclair
    as Mother, re-introducing Walter Moore as
    her husband, Kirk…
    The music swells as the camera approaches a mammoth structure at
    the base of the mountains – a dome so vast it dwarfs everything
    around it. At the top of the dome is a huge painting of Truman’s
    face encircled by satellite dishes – inside each dish is a single
    letter spelling out, T-H-E T-R-U-M-A-N S-H-O-W – a banner
    proclaims, “30th Great Year”
    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    …and Truman Burbank as Himself, taped
    in the world’s largest studio, one of
    only two man-made structures visible from
    space, comes the longest running
    documentary soap opera in history, now in
    its 30th great year – “The Truman Show”!
    The camera rushes towards the outside wall of the gigantic dome
    bathed in sunlight. When we emerge on the other side, it is
    night. The camera cranes up from a calm, moonlit ocean to the
    nightsky above. As we near the crescent-shaped moon, we
    discover that it is actually a window overlooking Seahaven.
    Standing in the “crater” window is the suited CHRISTOF.
    INT. LUNAR STUDIO. NIGHT.
    Pulling back from the window we reveal an INTERVIEWER, mid-
    forties, conservative suit and hair. A large television
    shows a live picture of Truman. Immersed in his book.
    INTERVIEWER
    I’m your host, Mike Michaelson, coming to
    you live from the Lunar Room on the 121st
    story of the OmniCam Ecosphere, 2800 feet
    above Seahaven Island. Tonight, a
    special edition of “Tru Talk”, the forum
    where we discuss and analyze recent
    events on the show. We are honored to
    bring you a rare and exclusive interview
    with the show’s conceiver, creator, tele-
    visionary, the Man-In-The-Moon himself–
    Christof.
    (referring to the image of
    Truman between them)
    I remind viewers that as “The Truman Show” is
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    a living history, it is our practice to keep
    the image of Truman on screen at all times.
    A TITLE APPEARS: Due to the Live and Unedited nature of the
    program, viewer discretion is advised.
    The Interviewer turns to Christof.
    INTERVIEWER
    Welcome.
    CHRISTOF
    Thank you.
    INTERVIEWER
    The catalyst for the recent dramatic
    events was of course Truman’s father,
    Kirk, and his infiltration onto the show.
    Before we discuss that, it’s worth
    reminding viewers that this isn’t the
    first time someone from the outside world
    has tried to reach Truman.
    CHRISTOF
    We have had our close calls in the past.
    Behind the two men, the constantly playing image of Truman
    engrossed in his book is relegated to a window of the screen.
    PLAYBACK – INT. TRUMAN’S HOME. CHRISTMAS MORNING.
    TRUMAN, 7, is opening presents under the tree – KIRK and
    MOTHER proudly looking on.
    INTERVIEWER
    Who can forget the infamous “Christmas
    Present” incident in the seventh season?
    Suddenly, a small MAN bursts from a large, Christmas parcel.
    Kirk and the man grapple on the floor in front of the stunned
    seven-year-old. Kirk drags him away.
    PLAYBACK – EXT. CITY STREET. DAY.
    As the adult TRUMAN makes his way to work, a PARACHUTIST drops
    from the sky into the main street, only yards behind him.
    INTERVIEWER
    And only last summer “Billie Blackbird”
    made his third attempt, leaping from a
    lighting gantry.
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    The parachutist is dressed entirely in black with a message
    emblazoned on his chest, “TRUMAN, YOU’RE ON TV.” COMMUTERS
    grab the man and drag him away – Truman blissfully unaware of
    the incident.
    CHRISTOF
    (dismissive)
    These people have their own agendas.
    Many just want to be on television
    themselves.
    PLAYBACK – EXT. CITY STREET. DAY.
    The encounter between TRUMAN and the homeless KIRK is
    replayed up to the point where Kirk is bundled onto the bus.
    INTERVIEWER
    Of course, there hasn’t been anything
    to compare with this – the first time an
    intruder has been a former cast member–
    CHRISTOF
    –a dead one at that.
    INTERVIEWER
    –and certainly the first time that an
    intruder has been rewarded with a
    starring role.
    (gushing)
    I really must congratulate you on writing
    Kirk back in. A master stroke.
    CHRISTOF
    (feigning modesty)
    Since Kirk started this whole crisis in
    Truman’s life, I came to the conclusion
    that he was the only one who could end it.
    INTERVIEWER
    I understand he’s hardly had a life of
    his own since he left the show. How did
    you convince him–was it the opportunity
    to be close to Truman again?
    CHRISTOF
    That and a fat, new contract.
    INTERVIEWER
    How do you intend to explain his twenty-
    two year absence?
    CHRISTOF
    Amnesia.
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    INTERVIEWER
    (impressed, nodding in
    agreement)
    Of course.
    The Interviewer consults his note.
    INTERVIEWER
    Let’s talk ratings. “Truman” has always
    enjoyed top ten status but the huge surge
    over the last few days–how do you hope
    to sustain that audience now that Truman
    appears to have reconciled himself?
    CHRISTOF
    As you know ratings have never been our
    primary goal. I imagine we’ll lose those
    voyeurs only interested in witnessing
    Truman’s latest torment. However, I’m
    certain that our core audience will
    remain loyal.
    INTERVIEWER
    But recent events have been so dramatic,
    it does raise the perennial question.
    What keeps us watching this one man
    twenty-four hours a day – eating,
    sleeping, working, sitting for hours in
    contemplation?
    CHRISTOF
    It has to be the reality.
    During this segment, we cut to a cross-section of VIEWERS –
    the WAITRESS and BARMAN in the bar, the TWO OLD WOMEN on
    their sofa, the TWO SECURITY GUARDS, and the MAN in the bath –
    listening to Christof’s theories on their viewing habits.
    CHRISTOF
    We’ve become tired of watching actors give
    us phony emotions, bored with pyrotechnics
    and special effects. While the world he
    inhabits is counterfeit, there’s nothing
    fake about Truman himself. No scripts, no
    cue cards. It’s not always Shakespeare
    but it’s genuine. That’s how he can
    support an entire channel.
    INTERVIEWER
    A window onto the human condition?
    CHRISTOF
    I prefer to think of it as a mirror.
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    At that moment, Truman – still live on the screen –
    unwittingly punctuates the pretentious remark with a belch.
    Christof and the Interviewer try not to notice.
    CHRISTOF
    Not only does he give us a glimpse of the
    truth, he gives us a glimpse of ourselves.
    INTERVIEWER
    But how do you account for the popularity of
    those eight hours a day when Truman sleeps?
    CHRISTOF
    We find many viewers leave him on all
    night for comfort. Haven’t you ever
    watched your child or your lover sleep?
    INTERVIEWER
    Let’s go to some of those viewers’ calls.
    The Interviewer presses a blinking, illuminated button on his
    desk’s high-tech phone terminal. During this segment,
    various windows open on the screen advertising products from
    the “Truman” catalogue.
    INTERVIEWER
    Charlotte, North Carolina, for Christof.
    MALE CALLER 1 (O.S.)
    Hello?
    INTERVIEWER
    You’re on, Caller. Go ahead.
    MALE CALLER 1
    Christof, it’s a great honor to speak
    with you.
    CHRISTOF
    Thank you.
    MALE CALLER 1
    How much of a strain has the last few
    days placed on the actors?
    CHRISTOF
    Working on “Truman” has always been a
    huge commitment for an actor, not just in
    terms of separation from friends and
    family, but since Truman essentially
    drives the plot, it is a never-ending
    improvisation – witness Marlon’s
    extraordinary performance in the recent
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    “Father And Son Reunion” episode.
    INTERVIEWER
    (cutting off the call)
    Are we talking Emmies?
    CHRISTOF
    Certainly a nomination.
    INTERVIEWER
    Of course, Truman has always been very
    much in on casting.
    CHRISTOF
    As with our own lives, the only people he
    can’t cast are his family. Otherwise he
    has final approval, able to elevate an
    extra into a lead role as was the case
    with his only real friend, Marlon, or
    alternatively relegate a star to a bit
    player.
    INTERVIEWER
    (presenting another line)
    Istanbul, Turkey, you’re on with master
    videographer, Christof.
    FEMALE CALLER 1 (O.S.)
    Christof, I’ve admired your work my whole
    life, although I can’t say I’ve seen it all.
    CHRISTOF
    Who can?
    FEMALE CALLER 1
    Can you settle an argument for me?
    What’s the longest time Truman has been
    off-camera?
    CHRISTOF
    (trace of pride)
    In his entire life, forty-two minutes. A
    technical fault in the twelfth season
    accounts for most of that time. The
    remainder generally results from
    blindspots, in the early days, when
    Truman would stray out of range of our
    cameras.
    INTERVIEWER
    We should remind viewers that Truman,
    especially as a child, presented a
    challenge for the production.
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    CHRISTOF
    (turning to the screen)
    Let me demonstrate some examples.
    Footage of TRUMAN as a baby appears on the screen – as a
    newborn INFANT, held in a pair of anonymous latex-gloved
    hands, and as a TODDLER, dressed in various baby outfits –
    on one occasion looking through the bars of his crib.
    CHRISTOF
    He was curious from birth – premature by
    two weeks, as if he couldn’t wait to get
    started.
    INTERVIEWER
    Of course, his eagerness to leave his
    mother’s womb also meant he was the one
    selected.
    CHRISTOF
    (enthusing)
    In competition with five other unwanted
    pregnancies – the casting of a show
    determined by an air date – he was the
    one who arrived on cue.
    INTERVIEWER
    Who knew that a show originally meant to
    last one year – “Bringing Up Baby” –
    would turn into a “cradle to grave”
    concept. He is in fact the first child
    in the world to be legally adopted by a
    corporation.
    CHRISTOF
    That’s correct.
    INTERVIEWER
    And the show now generates a yearly
    income equivalent to the gross national
    product of a small country.
    CHRISTOF
    People forget it takes the population of
    an entire country to keep the show running.
    INTERVIEWER
    No, of course not.
    (quickly changing the subject)
    And since the show runs 24 hours a day
    with no commercial breaks the staggering
    profits are all generated from product
    placement.
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    CHRISTOF
    Yes, everything you see on the show is
    for sale – from the actors’ wardrobe,
    food products, to the very homes they
    live in–
    INTERVIEWER
    All products carefully chosen and
    tested by you for quality and
    aesthetic value.
    CHRISTOF
    There’s nothing on the show I don’t
    use myself.
    INTERVIEWER
    And it’s all available in the “Truman”
    Show” catalogue. Operators are
    standing by.
    Christof nods.
    INTERVIEWER
    Why do you feel that Truman’s never
    come close to discovering the true
    nature of his world?
    CHRISTOF
    We accept the reality of the world with
    which we’re presented. 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.
    The SEVEN-YEAR-OLD TRUMAN we have seen in other flashbacks
    appears on the screen. Wearing a cowboy outfit, he goes to
    cross the walkway of a bridge when he is suddenly confronted
    by a savage DOG wearing a spiked collar.
    CHRISTOF
    Later, Kirk’s drowning made much of
    this kind of intervention unnecessary.
    We freeze on seven-year-old Truman’s terrified face.
    INTERVIEWER
    You’ve never actually met Truman,
    yourself. Never thought about doing a
    cameo–playing a veterinarian, or a
    priest, something like that?
    CHRISTOF
    I’ve been tempted. But I think it’s
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    important to retain objectivity. I
    wouldn’t want to get emotionally
    caught up.
    INTERVIEWER
    The Hague for Christof…The
    Hague?…lost them.
    (pressing another line)
    Hollywood, California, you’re on “Tru Talk.”
    FEMALE CALLER 2 (O.S.)
    How can you say he lives a life like
    any other?
    CHRISTOF
    (sensing the thinly
    disguised resentment in the
    Caller’s voice)
    As the Bard says, “All the world’s a
    stage, and all the men and women merely
    players.” The only difference between
    Truman and ourselves is that his life is
    more thoroughly documented. He is
    confronted with the same obstacles and
    influences that confront us all. He
    plays his allotted roles as we all do–
    FEMALE CALLER 2
    –He’s not a performer. He’s a prisoner.
    The Interviewer goes to cut off the call, but Christof stops him.
    CHRISTOF
    (rising to the challenge)
    And can you tell me, caller, that you’re
    not a player on the stage of life –
    playing out your allotted role? He can
    leave at any time. If his was more than
    just a vague ambition, if he were
    absolutely determined to discover the
    truth, there’s no way we could prevent
    him. I think what really distresses you,
    Caller, is that ultimately Truman prefers
    the comfort of his “cell” as you call it.
    FEMALE CALLER 2
    (as if trying to convince
    herself, giving herself away)
    –No, you’re wrong! He’ll prove you
    wrong! He can still do it!
    The Interviewer hangs up on the caller.
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    INT. A BEDROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    In a darkly lit room, we see SYLVIA. It is she who is the
    confrontational Caller – phone still in her hand.
    CHRISTOF
    We’ve learnt about life as Truman has
    and, despite the complaints of a
    minority, it’s been an overwhelmingly
    positive experience, for Truman and for
    the viewing public.
    INTERVIEWER
    Let’s take another call.
    (pressing a line)
    London, England, you’re on “Tru Talk.”
    MALE CALLER 2 (O.S.)
    Christof? Congratulations on the way you’ve
    always handled Truman’s “sex” life – the
    classical music, soft lighting and so on.
    But has the recent violence caused a problem
    for the show’s sponsors?
    CHRISTOF
    The sponsors know the risks going in,
    although we do try to maintain standards
  • a level of decorum. For instance, I’ve
    never put a camera in the toilet.
    Still in silhouette, SYLVIA turns down the volume on the
    television. Focusing on the window on the screen that
    displays TRUMAN, she comes close to the screen, catching his
    melancholy, saddened by his regression.
    INT. TRUMAN’S BASEMENT. MORNING.
    TRUMAN breathes in the scent of Sylvia’s sweater one last
    time before reluctantly replacing it in the trunk, together
    with his book, “To The Ends Of The Earth – The Age Of
    Exploration”. For a final time, he regards his unfinished
    picture of SYLVIA inside – two holes where the eyes should
    be. As he does so, he finds two lost paper cuttings – a pair
    of eyes on the basement floor. He tries them. Ironically
    they fit – the picture completed. He closes the trunk
    anyway. With a sense of finality, he fastens the lock.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    The giant ON-AIR monitor in the control room plays a close-up
    shot of Truman sleeping.
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    CHRISTOF comes close to the monitor and almost touches the
    screen. As he does so, Truman twitches in his sleep.
    INT. BATHROOM. MORNING.
    TRUMAN wipes the mist from the mirror of the bathroom cabinet
    and stares into it in a way he has never done before.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. MORNING.
    Close up on the giant ON-AIR monitor in the control room.
    It displays a wide shot of Truman staring into the bathroom
    mirror.
    We slowly pull back to reveal SIMEON and the other VIDEO
    OPERATORS sitting at the mixing desks arranged in tiers
    reminiscent of an auditorium or NASA’s Mission Control.
    Each mixing desk contains a dozen-or-so built-in monitors
    and is designed with a location such as “Truman’s House
  • Interior”, “Truman’s Office – Cubicle”, “Tyrone’s Deli”.
    The operator at each desk, sitting in a swivel chair and
    wearing the slimmest of headsets, is responsible for
    monitoring a particular location.
    The monitors cover virtually every facet of Truman’s life.
    Camera angles from the interior of Truman’s house, his
    backyard, car, office, the deli he frequents, the seashore
    to which he is drawn, the unfinished bridge where he golfs
    with Marlon – many of the locations strangely devoid of
    people.
    Simeon, seated in the front row of mixing desks, stares back
    at Truman’s image on the monitor, slightly unnerved.
    SIMEON
    (to a nearby COLLEAGUE)
    Is he looking at us?
    As if to reassure the technician, Truman begins one of his
    familiar monologues. He talks to the mirror as if being
    interviewed.
    TRUMAN
    –What are my plans now? Well, next I’m
    thinking of tackling the Yuba River in an
    authentic canoe from the Algonquin tribe.
    –I’m talking about the north fork, a
    class five rapid – only I’m not going
    down the Yuba, I’m going up. Do you
    honestly think for one minute I’d go back
    to some dreary office to rubber stamp
    meaningless documents…do you?
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    MERYL (O.C.)
    –Truman, you’re gonna be late!
    Truman sighs as he exits the bathroom.
    EXT. STREET. MORNING.
    TRUMAN exchanges a cheery greeting with SPENCER.
    SPENCER
    How are ya, Truman?
    TRUMAN
    Inhale…exhale…same old thing.
    He waves to the WASHINGTONS across the street. He pets
    PLUTO the dog.
    INT. OFFICE. DAY.
    Back at work at the insurance company, TRUMAN sits in his
    cubicle making another of his cold calls.
    TRUMAN
    –a forty-two year old woman sitting in
    the second row at an amateur production
    of Hamlet, Hamlet’s dagger slips from his
    hand and flies into the audience…
    A YOUNG WOMAN, carrying a stack of files, catches Truman’s eye
    as she passes. VIVIAN. She is faintly reminiscent of Sylvia
    at the same age – even wearing a similar sweater.
    TRUMAN
    (returning to his call)
    –what I’m saying is, life is a fragile
    thing…hullo?
    EXT. TRUMAN’S BACKYARD. DUSK.
    TRUMAN wheels his lawnmower, deliberately averting his eyes
    from the back of the house. Staring out of the kitchen
    window, a tall glass of iced tea in her hand, MERYL has been
    anticipating her husband’s appearance. She wears a
    neckbrace, we sense more as a reminder to Truman than for any
    medical benefit she might derive.
    Feeling Meryl’s eyes burning into his back, Truman fires up
    the mower and heads directly towards the symbolically uncut
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    section of grass. We focus on the errant blades of grass as
    they are severed by the mower – a new Elk Rotary. The lawn
    is now uniformly trimmed – Truman’s final act of defiance
    laid to rest.
    INT. STUDIO – CONFERENCE ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF stands at a large, specially screened window,
    silhouetted against the twinkling stars and full moon of a
    hyper-real nightsky.
    Members of the cast enter the room – principal characters in
    Truman’s life – MERYL, MARLON, MOTHER, KIRK, TYRONE, LAWRENCE
    and the new actress, VIVIAN. They take their places around a
    long, oval table for a story conference – Vivian sitting
    slightly apart from the rest of the cast.
    We glimpse over Christof’s shoulder at what he sees – the
    town of Seahaven far below, bathed in moonlight. He comes
    out of his reverie and joins his cast, sitting at the head of
    the table. In front of him, a TV “tablet” plays silently –
    showing Truman drinking a glass of milk in his kitchen.
    CHRISTOF
    (to the assembled cast)
    First of all, I’d like to welcome Walter
    back onto the show.
    (nods in Kirk’s direction)
    You may have done us more of a favor than
    you ever imagined.
    (turning to Meryl, using her
    real name)
    Regrettably, I also have to inform you
    that Hannah has chosen not to renew her
    contract.
    All eyes turn to Meryl. She looks at the floor.
    CHRISTOF
    I’m sure we can all respect her reasons.
    Meryl receives a sympathetic squeeze of the hand from her co-
    star Marlon, now out of wardrobe, wearing an Armani suit.
    CHRISTOF
    As you all know, we have already begun to
    orchestrate her break-up from Truman.
    (more up-beat)
    However, on a more optimistic note, I’m
    pleased to announce that television’s
    first on-air conception will still take
    place. You witnessed the initial contact
    this morning.
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    (glancing to Vivien, once
    again using her real name)
    You all know Claudia from her work in
    theatre.
    MOTHER
    I loved your Ophelia.
    CLAUDIA
    Why thank you.
    The rest of the cast nod politely in Claudia’s direction.
    CHLOE passes out a bound document to each cast member.
    CHRISTOF
    (referring to the documents)
    This is a copy of Claudia’s back story.
    Her character’s name is “Vivien”.
    The cast idly flips through the documents, prominently
    stamped on the cover, “NOT TO BE TAKEN ON SET”.
    CHRISTOF
    We intend to entice Truman into the affair
    as soon as possible. Claudia will make a
    pass at the insurance seminar Truman’s
    attending. Details are in your schedules.
    (pause for effect)
    I don’t have to tell you how critical the
    next few weeks will be. This takes us
    into the next generation. When Truman’s
    child is born, the network will be
    switching to a two-channel format to
    chronicle both lives.
    CLAUDIA
    What happens when Truman and the baby are
    both on camera together?
    CHRISTOF
    This will simply be duplicate coverage.
    CLAUDIA
    (mischievous)
    Let’s just hope we don’t have twins.
    MARLON
    (uncharacteristically
    flippant)
    When Truman dies do we go back to the
    single channel?
    The cast turn in his direction. Christof shoots him a
    disapproving look.
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    INT. TRUMAN’S BASEMENT. NIGHT.
    TRUMAN sleeps on a cot bed in his basement – more cluttered
    than usual. A virtual bombsite – dozens of cardboard boxes
    stacked everywhere. Although he is covered in bedding, his
    sock-clad feet stick out of the bed covers. The outline of
    his body is still clearly visible. He snores quietly.
    INT. VARIOUS VIEWER LOCATIONS. NIGHT.
    The TWO OLD LADIES have nodded off on their sofa in front of
    the television, their breathing and occasional snores echo
    those of Truman.
    In the BAR, the WAITRESS – normally an avid viewer – only idly
    glances to the screen as she passes with a tray of drinks.
    The MAN in the bath resignedly lets the water out of the tub
    and goes to get out.
    The MOTHER only occasionally glances to the screen as she
    feeds her BABY. Her DAUGHTER has her eyes closed, bopping to
    her Walkman.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    SIMEON sits at his control desk, directing the “night-shift”.
    He pays scant attention to the big screen, giving his
    instructions in a lethargic, metronomic manner.
    SIMEON
    …Ready two. Go to two.
    An OPERATOR, eating a slice of pizza, presses one of the
    illuminated buttons on the panel and the camera angle changes
    to a close shot of Truman’s covered head. The camera stays on
    the blanketed head for a long moment.
    SIMEON
    And back to the medium…
    Another button is pressed and the angle changed. A trace of
    frustration is evident in the control room. Recording a
    sleeping subject is unrewarding enough without also having to
    contend with Truman’s recently acquired camera-shyness.
    SIMEON
    …and wide…
    OPERATOR
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    (aside to Simeon)
    What a loser.
    SIMEON
    Who cares? Makes life easier for us.
    He is what he is.
    At the far end of the control room, one of the large double doors
    opens and CHRISTOF enters, dressed in a smoking jacket. Simeon and
    the Operators subtly straighten in their chairs. Christof pretends
    not to notice. He is staring intently at the ON-AIR monitor.
    CHRISTOF
    Why is he in the basement?
    SIMEON
    He moved down there after Meryl packed up
    and left.
    CHRISTOF
    Why wasn’t I told? Any unpredictable
    behavior has to be reported.
    (returning to the screen)
    Is that the best shot we can get?
    SIMEON
    What’s to see?
    CHRISTOF
    What’s on the ClockCam?
    The operator punches up the camera hidden inside a broken
    cuckoo clock. A box obscures the view.
    OPERATOR
    There’s an obstruction.
    Christof watches Truman, a trace of concern in his eyes.
    CHLOE enters.
    CHRISTOF
    (referring to the debris in
    Truman’s basement)
    What happened down there?
    SIMEON
    He was tidying up his garbage.
    (sensing Christof’s concern)
    I was going to call you. But half-way
    through, he gave up and fell asleep.
    Apparently satisfied, Christof turns to an Operator.
    CHRISTOF
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    I want to check the set-ups for
    tomorrow’s insurance convention.
    Reading off the notes in Chloe’s folder, the Operator punches up
    a batch of camera angles on smaller preview monitors. They show
    a generic-looking hotel, devoid of actors. A banner in reception
    reads, “Welcome Seahaven Life and Accident”.
    The Operator looks to Christof for approval and realizes his
    producer’s attention has wandered. Christof has wandered
    down to the front of the room to stand beside the giant ON-
    AIR monitor still displaying the sleeping figure of Truman.
    CHRISTOF
    Give me a shot from Truman’s ring.
    SIMEON
    He gave it back to his father.
    Christof nods.
    CHRISTOF
    (a trace of concern)
    Why is he so still?
    Christof picks up a spare headset from the panel and puts it
    to his ear.
    CHRISTOF
    Isolate the audio.
    An Operator pushes up an audio fader on the panel. Christof
    and his colleagues listen to Truman’s steady breathing in
    their headphones.
    SIMEON
    (shrugs)
    He’s still breathing.
    Simeon and the Operators nod, reassured that nothing is
    amiss. Christof is not so easily convinced.
    CHRISTOF
    Give me a preview. An ECU on his torso.
    A camera hidden in the room’s lamp zooms in to Truman’s prone
    outline. While the breathing remains steady, the body does
    not rise and fall. Christof, still listening to his
    headphones, detects a faint scratching sound followed by a
    strange thud.
    CHRISTOF
    (anxious, barking a command
    to Chloe)
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Phone him.
    Chloe picks up a phone connected to the desk and dials.
    CHRISTOF
    (anticipating Chloe’s
    question)
    Tell him it’s a wrong number.
    The upstairs phone begins to ring. Truman doesn’t flinch.
    INT. AN OFFICE BUILDING SOMEWHERE – RECEPTION. NIGHT.
    The TWO SECURITY GUARDS are intrigued by Truman’s unanswered
    phone on their television set.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF and SIMEON concentrate on another, separate monitor
    playing in fast-rewind, time code in the bottom right-hand
    corner. It is a recording of the night’s transmission.
    Simeon pauses on the last on-camera appearance by Truman.
    They watch Truman, on-screen, switch off the basement light
    and climb into the cot bed fully clothed, immediately pulling
    the covers over his head. As the light is switched off, the
    recording camera automatically switches to night vision.
    Simeon continues to play at normal speed, now and then
    scrolling forward in fast-forward mode. Christof suddenly
    points to screen.
    CHRISTOF
    There. Freeze…Zoom into the chair…
    Simeon types the appropriate command.
    CHRISTOF
    Enhance…there!
    On the blown-up screen, between a cardboard box and a chair
    leg, it is barely possible to make out Truman’s hand as he
    crawls commando-style from beneath the covers and behind a
    cardboard box near the large tool cupboard.
    Simeon points out an angle of the empty staircase.
    SIMEON
    He hasn’t gone up the stairs. He’s still
    in the room.
    EXT. TRUMAN’S HOUSE. NIGHT.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    MARLON’s car squeals to a halt outside Truman’s house.
    Hurriedly dressed in jeans and coat over a bare chest, he
    dashes barefoot up the porch to the front door. He tries the
    doorhandle, pounds on the door and rings the doorbell
    simultaneously, shouting Truman’s name all the while.
    MARLON
    Tru!..Tru!..Earthquake alert…flood!
    We’ve gotta get outside onto the
    street! Tru?!
    Frustrated, Marlon picks up one of Meryl’s carefully nurtured
    flower pots from beneath the porch window.
    MARLON
    (shouting a warning)
    I’m coming in, Tru!
    Marlon hurls the flower pot through the window.
    INT. TRUMAN’S HOUSE – BASEMENT. NIGHT.
    MARLON switches on the light and clambers down the wooden
    stairs to the basement.
    He pushes away the clutter and finally stands at his co-star’s
    bedside. He gingerly lifts the covers. Beneath the bedding,
    clothes have been carefully piled to resemble a sleeping
    figure – socks placed on the end of two tree branches.
    Buried amongst the clothes is Truman’s portable tape recorder.
    Marlon places the recorder next to his ear. The cassette plays
    the sound of TRUMAN BREATHING.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF stares, wide-eyed, at the image on the On-Air
    monitor of MARLON.
    CHRISTOF
    Find him, Marlon!
    INT. BASEMENT. NIGHT.
    MARLON starts frantically pushing aside the clutter, sending
    Truman’s model ships and other hobbies crashing to the floor.
    Eliminating all over possible hiding places, he confronts
    Truman’s tool closet, the wall map of the Fiji Islands still
    hanging on the door. Marlon rips open the door and is hit
    with a shaft of light – moonlight.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    The top of the closet has been removed and a crude tunnel
    containing a ladder heads almost directly upwards to the
    outside of the house. The bottom of the closet is ankle deep
    with dirt. Embedded in the tunnel wall is Meryl’s Chef’s
    Mate – Truman’s digging implement.
    EXT. TRUMAN’S HOUSE. NIGHT.
    MARLON’s head pops up outside the house. Unable to help
    himself, Marlon looks directly into a wide shot camera
    concealed in a streetlight.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF
    Marlon, don’t look at the camera!
    Say something!
    MARLON
    (to streetlight, stunned,
    breaking the fourth wall)
    What? He’s gone!
    CHRISTOF
    (to Simeon, quiet but firm)
    Cut transmission.
    Simeon hesitates, unsure if he has heard correctly. He looks
    to Christof for confirmation, his finger poised over an
    “EMERGENCY” button.
    CHRISTOF
    (enraged)
    I said, “Cut!”
    Christof lunges forward and presses the button himself. The
    scene in Truman’s bedroom playing on the on-air monitor is
    abruptly replaced by the “TRUMAN” logo and the message,
    “TECHNICAL FAULT. PLEASE STAND BY.”
    INT. A LIVING ROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    The TWO OLD WOMEN on the sofa are stunned to see their TV
    screen go blank.
    INT. A BAR SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    HEADS also turn in the bar permanently tuned to the “Truman”
    channel.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    INT. AN APARTMENT SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    The other loyal viewer transfixed by the test card is SYLVIA,
    alone in her darkened apartment.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    Reminiscent of a military headquarters in wartime, the
    control room is a scene of barely controlled panic. SECURITY
    GUARDS come and go, phones ring, lights flash, every
    available VIDEO MIXER is working. The monitors – the “eyes”
    of the searchers – are systematically scrutinized for any
    sign of Truman. CHRISTOF orchestrates operations from his
    position at the center of the control panel.
    SIMEON
    (nervous)
    We’ve declared a curfew. Everyone else
    is at first positions.
    CHRISTOF
    All prop cars accounted for?
    SIMEON
    He has to be on foot. He has the
    world’s most recognizable face. He
    can’t disappear.
    EXT. SEAHAVEN – MAIN STREET. NIGHT.
    We pan down one empty street after another. The town center is
    totally, eerily deserted. Suddenly, a line of PEOPLE comes
    around the corner, fanned out cross the street – a man-hunt.
    PEOPLE of every description, shoulder to shoulder, marching
    down the otherwise empty streets the way a search is
    conducted at a crime scene. The lines include PRINCIPALS and
    EXTRAS lined arm and arm, wardrobed for their usual roles as
    EXECUTIVES and SECRETARIES, STORE CLERKS, TELEPHONISTS,
    MAINTENANCE and CONSTRUCTION WORKERS, WAITERS and WAITRESSES,
    COOKS, SHOPPERS, HEALTH WORKERS, SECURITY GUARDS, POSTAL
    WORKERS, POLICE OFFICERS, FIRE FIGHTERS and HOMELESS PEOPLE.
    We occasionally glimpse Truman’s friends and colleagues
    amongst the searchers – MARLON, LAWRENCE, MOTHER & KIRK,
    VIVIEN and TYRONE. Even the WASHINGTON’s and SPENCER and
    PLUTO have joined the search – a snarling Pluto straining at
    the leash has now assumed the role of tracker dog – Truman’s
    pajamas waved in front of his nose (clearly miscast as the
    friendly, neighborhood pooch).
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Searchlights from Seahaven’s many towers sweep the town.
    Once, the light falls on a blackened face cowering in the
    bushes beside a picket fence – the fence now faintly
    reminiscent of prison bars. Even the beam of the full moon
    appears to be sweeping the town like a searchlight.
    EXT. BRIDGE. NIGHT.
    Barriers have been erected at the bridge leading out of
    Seahaven, guarded by several Seahaven police cars.
    An extra dressed as a DERELICT wheels his shopping cart
    toward the bridge.
    The derelict takes a look along the walkway alongside the
    bridge as if participating in the search. He finds a POLICE
    OFFICER standing on the walkway.
    POLICE OFFICER
    Any sign of him?
    DERELICT
    (gravelly voice)
    Not yet.
    POLICE OFFICER
    Take it easy.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    A VIDEO OPERATOR in the sixth row watches the scene on one of
    his monitors – the derelict standing with his back to camera.
    Just as the derelict turns toward camera the Operator turns
    away to take a sip of coffee. He misses what we see on his
    monitor – the derelict’s blackened face belongs to TRUMAN.
    EXT. BRIDGE. NIGHT.
    The disguised TRUMAN heads back to town.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF turns to a LIGHTING TECHNICIAN.
    CHRISTOF
    We need more light.
    EXT. SEAHAVEN STREETS. NIGHT.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    A building-to-building, floor-to-floor, office-to-office
    search is also being conducted, each structure secured as
    they go – the SEARCHERS paying special attention to potential
    blind spots such as closets, dumpsters, manholes, sewers,
    car trunks, trees and shrubbery.
    We focus on one of the waves of searchers. TRUMAN has linked
    arms in the middle of a row, his disguise still holding up.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF glances impatiently at his watch.
    CHRISTOF
    We’ll never find him like this. What
    time is it?
    CHLOE
    (anticipating the request)
    It’s too early.
    CHRISTOF
    It doesn’t matter. Cue the sun.
    EXT. STREETS. NIGHT/DAY.
    The sun instantly rises over Seahaven. CAST and EXTRAS shade
    their eyes from the sudden glare.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    While his COLLEAGUES monitor the bank of screens, CHRISTOF
    has been joined by the two anxious studio executives, MOSES
    and ROMAN.
    MOSES
    (to Christof who is still
    studying the faces in a row of
    SEARCHERS)
    Rumors are circulating he’s dead. The
    media is in a feeding frenzy. The phone
    lines are jammed. Every network has a
    pirated shot of Marlon in the closet.
    ROMAN
    (pacing nervously)
    The sponsors are threatening to rip up
    their contracts.
    CHRISTOF
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    (unconcerned, referring to the
    static “STAND BY” graphic, now
    accompanied by soothing
    classical music)
    Why? We’re getting higher ratings for
    that graphic than any time in the show’s
    history.
    INT. BAR. NIGHT.
    The television above the bar carries the test card. PATRONS
    animatedly discuss Truman’s fate over their drinks. Some
    place bets with each other on Truman’s fate.
    EXT. ELECTRONICS STORE. NIGHT.
    A CROWD of passersby hover around a display of televisions in
    the window of an electronics store, awaiting developments.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    The fan of EXTRAS reaches the harbor and automatically turns
    to make another sweep.
    CHLOE
    (referring to the empty streets)
    When we flush him out how do we
    explain this?
    CHRISTOF
    (deadpan)
    We tell him the truth.
    CHLOE looks askance at CHRISTOF.
    CHRISTOF
    (joking darkly)
    We’re making a movie.
    EXT. HARBORSIDE. DAY.
    However, as he bypasses the entrance to a ticket box, he
    hasn’t bargained on coming face to face with another
    straggler from the search.
    MARLON. Truman freezes in front of his childhood companion –
    Marlon instantly seeing through Truman’s homeless disguise.
    Truman glances nervously in the direction of the searchers.
    Their backs to the two men, they are beginning their next
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    sweep. One shout from Marlon will give Truman away – he is
    at Marlon’s mercy.
    Without a word, Marlon walks past Truman and rejoins the search.
    Truman glances back to Marlon’s retreating figure but Marlon
    never looks back.
    EXT. DOCKSIDE. DAY.
    TRUMAN reaches the edge of the dock. He looks out over the
    bay. There, riding at anchor some two hundred yards out, is
    a sail boat – the same boat that circled Kirk and Truman’s
    sail boat many years earlier.
    We see a close-up of Truman’s terrified eyes in his blackened
    face, staring down at the lapping water. He steels himself,
    shuts out the doubts and dives into the water.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    SIMEON
    (hopeful)
    I’m sure we’ll get him on this next sweep.
    CHRISTOF
    (distracted)
    What have we missed?
    SIMEON
    It’s just a matter of time.
    CHRISTOF concentrates on a monitor displaying a view of the
    harbor.
    CHRISTOF
    (to Simeon)
    We’re not watching the sea.
    SIMEON
    (confused)
    Why would we–
    CHRISTOF
    Sweep the harbor.
    His COLLEAGUES begin to flick through dozens of waterborne
    hidden camera shots – in moored craft, lighthouses and buoys
  • trying to locate Truman.
    Suddenly on one of the monitors there appears a single sail
    etched against the horizon.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    SIMEON
    That’s got to be him!
    ROMAN
    How can he sail?! He’s in insurance!
    CHRISTOF
    Resume transmission.
    Simeon punches a button and the image of the sail boat is
    instantly transferred to the large ON-AIR monitor.
    INT. OLD WOMEN’S APARTMENT. NIGHT.
    The TWO OLD WOMEN doze against each other on the sofa in
    front of the TV.
    The classical music on the television is abruptly replaced by
    the sound of the wind and the sea. One Old Lady blinks her
    eyes open, her breath taken away by the sight of Truman at
    the wheel of the sail boat. She rouses her companion.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF
    (staring intently at the
    ON-AIR monitor)
    What do we have on that boat?
    SIMEON scans a computer shot list. He types in a code.
    A camera from the mast of Truman’s sail boat activates. Truman,
    unaware of the camera, is concentrating on his sailing.
    EXT. HARBOR. DAY.
    By now the ocean spray has washed most of the dirt from
    TRUMAN’s face – only a residue remains. The rags he wears
    are soaked.
    As he steers, he occasionally refers to a “HOW TO SAIL” book
    from his coat pocket.
    INT. A BATHROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    The MAN in the bath we have seen earlier continues to watch
    from his tub.
    MAN
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    (to himself)
    I knew he wasn’t dead.
    EXT. HARBOR. DAY.
    TRUMAN is at the wheel of the sail boat, wind filling her sails.
    Seahaven left far behind, his is the only craft afloat in the
    harbor. He sets a course for the open sea as he and his
    father did long ago.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF and the other PRODUCTION STAFF watch TRUMAN from a
    buoy’s POV as he sails by.
    CHRISTOF
    Get another boat.
    CHLOE
    The ferry.
    EXT. FERRY TERMINAL. DAY.
    A PRODUCTION ASSISTANT runs down the dock towards the FERRY
    CAPTAIN and his CREW.
    PRODUCTION ASSISTANT
    Get that boat out there!
    FERRY CAPTAIN
    (who also played the bus driver)
    I don’t know how. We were just told to
    put on these clothes.
    EXT. HARBOR. DAY.
    The sea choppier now, rising and falling steeply beneath his
    boat, TRUMAN nears a large buoy bobbing clumsily in the
    strong swell. An official-looking sign on the buoy reads –
    “DANGEROUS WATERS. DO NOT ENTER.” We see an extreme close
    up of the nautical signpost where a disguised miniature
    camera tracks Truman’s progress.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    ROMAN
    (anxious)
    How do we stop him?
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    CHRISTOF
    (glancing to Simeon)
    How else?
    Christof nods to controls on the mixing desk marked, “WIND”
    and “RAIN”.
    EXT. HARBOR. DAY.
    Storm clouds roll towards TRUMAN’s boat at an alarming speed.
    He looks back towards the Seahaven skyline, rapidly receding
    behind him. Doubts invade Truman’s head but he shuts them
    out and steers into the teeth of the storm – a look of
    resolve in his eyes we have never witnessed before.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    MOSES and ROMAN pace at the back of the control room.
    CHRISTOF is focused on his monitor. Like Truman, he steels
    himself for a fight.
    CHRISTOF
    Cue music…
    SIMEON
    (hesitant)
    What music?
    CHRISTOF
    (irritated)
    Storm music…Wagner…
    CHLOE
    (watching the monitor)
    There’s no rescue boat in the area. He
    won’t know what to do.
    MOSES
    (trying to appeal to
    Christof’s sense of reason)
    For God’s sake, Chris. The whole world
    is watching. We can’t let him die in
    front of a live audience.
    CHRISTOF
    He was born in front of a live audience.
    (never taking his eyes from
    the screen)
    Don’t worry, he’s not willing to risk his
    life. His doubts will turn him back.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    Simeon reluctantly winds the controls for “WAVE”, “WIND” and
    “RAIN” towards their maximum settings.
    CHRISTOF
    Kill the lights.
    EXT. HARBOR. DAY.
    Darkness suddenly descends. High winds and horizontal
    driving rain buffet the boat. TRUMAN fights the tiller.
    Hurricane force winds shake the mast and keel, ripping the
    sails to shreds.
    Suddenly, the mast of Truman’s boat is struck by a bolt of
    lightning – snapping the rigging and knocking Truman
    overboard. Flailing in the tempest, Truman manages to grab
    hold of a trailing rope from the mast and hand-over-hand
    drags himself back on board. Truman takes the rope and
    lashes himself to the wheel.
    Monstrous waves continually submerge the boat. With what
    little is left of his rigging, Truman continues to head into
    the gale.
    TRUMAN
    (shouting above the storm,
    screaming up to the sky)
    Come on, is that the best you can do?
    You’re gonna have to kill me!
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    In contrast to his panic-stricken COLLEAGUES, CHRISTOF gives
    an outward appearance of calm. Only we witness the minute
    bead of sweat appearing at his temple that betrays him.
    SIMEON
    (shocked at the sight of Truman
    binding himself to the boat)
    Is he out of his mind?
    MOSES
    (to Christof)
    On behalf of the studio, I demand that
    you cease transmission.
    CHRISTOF
    (defiant, to Operators)
    Keep running!
    MOSES
    –That’s not for you to say.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    CHRISTOF
    I take full responsibility–
    MOSES
    –I’m telling you for the last time.
    CHRISTOF
    (to OPERATOR in front of
    radar-style-screen)
    How close is he?
    OPERATOR
    Very close.
    CHRISTOF
    Capsize him! Tip him over!
    MOSES
    (overlapping)
    For God’s sake, Christof!
    CHLOE
    (unable to contain herself
    any longer, entreating
    Christof)
    You can’t! He’s tied himself to the
    boat. He’ll drown!
    SIMEON
    (staring at Truman on the
    monitor, becoming affected by
    his display of courage)
    He doesn’t care.
    CHRISTOF
    (enraged, to the Operator)
    Do it!
    All eyes turn in Christof’s direction. None of the Operators
    is willing to touch the controls.
    Christof reaches to the panel and does it himself, turning
    the “WAVE” controls to their maximum settings.
    EXT. OCEAN. DAY.
    A series of giant breakers march in formation across the sea
  • arising from an unseen source.
    EXT. OCEAN. DAY.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    The waves break across Truman’s vessel. TRUMAN appears to be
    losing his fight against the storm, each successive wave
    taking its roll on his body, sapping his strength, his
    bindings the only thing keeping him upright. His head
    slumps, the tiller goes loose in his grasp, rocking out of
    control. Truman’s will is draining away.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    The control room CREW watch the heroic image of Truman on the
    ON-AIR monitor, awestruck, as if they too are now spectators
    watching a movie.
    EXT. OCEAN. DAY.
    As he is about to be overcome by the next wave, TRUMAN
    clamps the wheel with his whole body and braces for one
    last wave.
    But the wave does not come. A strange phenomenon is
    occurring in the ocean. A distinct division has appeared in
    the ocean swell. Between the large rolling waves lies a
    corridor of calmer water, several hundred yards wide, a
    curious escape lane. The wind and the rain are also
    subsiding, the darkness lifting. A mist clings to the
    surface of the water. Truman steers his sail boat down the
    eerie corridor.
    Several large, dark shapes emerge on the horizon. Land?
    Islands? The shapes, containing some enormous mechanism
    including a huge wheel, only half exposed above water level,
    appear to be the source of the peculiar wave formations.
    Truman continues to steer his wrecked sailboat towards the
    infinitely receding horizon. All is calm until we see the
    bow of the boat suddenly strike a huge, blue wall, knocking
    Truman off his feet. Truman recovers and clambers across the
    deck to the bow of the boat. Looming above him out of the
    sea is a cyclorama of colossal dimensions. The sky he has
    been sailing towards is nothing but a painted backdrop.
    Truman looks upward, straining his eyes to see the top of the
    sky, but it curves away at a steep angle beyond his sight.
    Clinging to the boat with one hand, he tentatively reaches
    out towards the painted cyclorama. He touches the sky.
    He looks about him and simply laughs.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF and his PRODUCTION STAFF take in Truman’s reaction
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    in stunned silence.
    INT/EXT. BARROOM/LAUNDROMAT/STOREFRONT/APARTMENT. NIGHT.
    Truman’s laugh echoes around bars, offices, shops, homes and
    streets – wherever a television is to be found – no VIEWER
    speaks. They too are stunned into a hushed expectancy. The
    collective audience holds its breath.
    EXT. OCEAN/CYCLORAMA. DAY.
    As the boat drifts alongside the seemingly never-ending curve
    of the cyclorama, TRUMAN’s attention is drawn to an outline
    in the otherwise flawless backdrop. He retrieves the
    identikit picture of Sylvia from his coat pocket and clambers
    to the prow of the boat.
    There, camouflaged in the painted skyscape just above the
    water line, is a door. Truman grabs hold of the recessed
    doorhandle and halts the drifting boat. He stands in front
    of the door and closes his eyes in a silent prayer.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    The control room CREW stare in silence at the monitor – their
    very livelihood on the brink of vanishing. CHRISTOF opens a
    small panel on his desk, breaks a seal, and speaks into the
    emergency P.A. system that is linked to the entire studio.
    CHRISTOF
    Truman!
    INT/EXT. OCEAN/CYCLORAMA. DAY.
    CHRISTOF’s voice booms over the now calm ocean.
    CHRISTOF
    Truman!
    TRUMAN drops the handle as if his hand has been burned. He
    looks all about him.
    CHRISTOF (O.C.)
    You can speak. I can hear you.
    Truman takes a moment to overcome his fear and astonishment.
    TRUMAN
    Who are you?
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    CHRISTOF
    I’m the creator.
    Truman looks up to the “heavens”.
    TRUMAN
    The creator of what?
    CHRISTOF (O.C.)
    A show – that gives hope and joy and
    inspiration to millions.
    TRUMAN
    (incredulous)
    A show. Then who am I?
    CHRISTOF (O.C.)
    You’re the star.
    Truman struggles to take it all in.
    TRUMAN
    Nothing was real.
    CHRISTOF
    You were real. That’s what made you
    you so good to watch.
    Truman takes out the drenched picture of Sylvia, recalling
    her words at the beach.
    TRUMAN
    (to himself)
    “The eyes are everywhere.”
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    CHRISTOF picks up a slim, flat monitor. He swivels in his
    chair and gazes intently at the image of Truman he now holds in
    his hands.
    CHRISTOF
    Listen to me, Truman–
    On the screen, Truman again reaches for the door handle.
    EXT. CYCLORAMA. DAY.
    We focus on TRUMAN’s hand. CHRISTOF’s voice echoes across
    the water.
    CHRISTOF
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    You can leave if you want. I won’t try
    to stop you. But you won’t survive out
    there. You don’t know what to do,
    where to go.
    A wave of doubt washes over Truman’s face.
    TRUMAN
    (referring to the photo)
    I have a map.
    CHRISTOF
    Truman, I’ve watched you your whole life.
    I saw you take your first step, your
    first word, your first kiss. I know you
    better than you know yourself. You’re
    not going to walk out that door–
    TRUMAN
    –You never had a camera in my head.
    INT/EXT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS. NIGHT.
    The VIEWERS stare into camera in fascination.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    TRUMAN turns back to the sky, looking up towards CHRISTOF.
    CHRISTOF
    Truman, there’s no more truth out
    there than in the world I created for
    you – the same lies and deceit. But
    in my world you have nothing to fear.
    Truman seems to be considering the possibilities. He looks
    to the identikit picture of Sylvia in his hand.
    CHRISTOF
    (suddenly angry)
    Say something, damn it! You’re still on
    camera, live to the world…!
    INT. A ROOM SOMEWHERE. NIGHT.
    SYLVIA gazes at the picture of herself on her television
    screen as if it is her reflection in the mirror.
    EXT. CYCLORAMA. DAY.
    Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library
    TRUMAN hesitates. Perhaps he cannot go through with it after
    all. The camera slowly zooms into Truman’s face.
    TRUMAN
    In case I don’t see you–good afternoon,
    good evening and good night.
    He steps through the door and is gone. Silence. Then –
    INT/EXT. VIEWERS. NIGHT.
    Spontaneous jubilation from VIEWERS in their various locations bars, homes and offices. We follow the figure of SYLVIA,
    running through the streets. Some of the viewers outside an
    electronics store glimpse her as she runs by.
    INT. CONTROL ROOM. NIGHT.
    Even the cynical SIMEON jumps out of his seat – for the first
    time in the film – and lets out a joyous whoop, forgetting
    himself for a moment, caught up in the drama.
    SIMEON
    Yes!
    Self-conscious, he takes his seat again almost immediately.
    His COLLEAGUES are transfixed by the live ON-AIR monitor
    continuing to play its only available shot, the open door in
    the sky.
    Gradually, the attention of those in the control room shifts
    from the monitor to CHRISTOF. He sits slumped, staring at
    the open door in the sky.
    Eventually MOSES looks to Simeon. Moses nods to the “ON AIR”
    button. Simeon presses the button and the screen – the movie
    screen – goes to static.
    MONTAGE/END TITLES.
    Highlights from “Truman – Total Record of a Human Life” begin
    to play.
    FADE OUT

-End-

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Shaun Zietsman https://www.thesomethingguy.co.za

Blogger and Content Creator from Johannesburg, South Africa.

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