Perhaps it will not be to the full Orwellian extent of Peter Weir's 1998 film, but I honestly believe that the conceit of one man unwittingly living out his life in front of television cameras will be the next step in reality programming. The sad part is, we're already half way there.
Screenwriter Andrew Niccol's imaginative script for "The Truman Show" is amazingly prescient. He envisioned reality television's polarizing forces of voyeurism and depravity almost two years before the king of reality TV, Mark Burnett, premiered "Survivor" in 2000.
Four years and eight "Survivor" incarnations later, the state of decency in reality programming seems to have plunged as fast as Kerry's post-swift boat approval ratings. Remember when Susan Hawk's "Snake and Rat" speech was considered exciting television? Remember when there was the occasional "trashy" Fox reality series that people watched just because it looked so horrible? I mean, did we really live through "Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire?"
Now, it takes the experienced channel surfer to find a reality series that isn't trashy. We're only a few months removed from that hideous short-lived excuse for a show, "The Littlest Groom." On the other hand, television addicts such as myself flock to each version of "The Amazing Race" because the series carries itself with a certain amount of class.
The current season featured Charla, a little person, and instead of belittling her as an object of amusement, the producers highlighted a proud woman who stood taller than some of her vertically advantaged competitors. It is really very sad that I should have to compliment a program for not appealing to humanity's lowest common denominator.
The precipitous decline of decency in reality television, when combined with the rapid growth of cable television (and the imminent premiere of an all-reality programming network), was what brought me to my main idea for this column. "The Truman Show," once thought to be a ridiculous implausibility, now looks like a prophetic look into the all-to-near future.
Last year, SpikeTV, the "network for men," premiered a wildly enjoyable reality series, "Joe Schmo." The star, instead of Truman Burbank, was Matt Kennedy Gould, perhaps the nicest, kindest, most gentle person ever in reality television. And of course, there was the catch. Matt did not know the entire show was phony; the host and other "competitors" were all actors, the challenges and melodramatic fights all scripted. Matt was cast because he was a sap.
The show's producers created a rather smart parody of reality television, as they typecast each of the actors into a reality show staple: the buddy, the jerk, the beautiful single girl, etc ... Along with the cast, the producers all conspired to develop a heavily pre-ordained series of events which would manipulate Matt's kindness into good television.
It was a short experiment in how long a whole television crew could sustain a lie, to see if "The Truman Show" could be realized. "Joe Schmo," in which the central subject knew he was being taped, but whose life was scripted by others, is just a few steps removed from "The Truman Show." With media conglomerates growing bigger, and with the FCC catering to their every desire, who knows? Maybe a corporation will be able to adopt a child, throw him on television, and create a safe world to broadcast to viewers everywhere.
We've seen marriage on television. We've seen sex between two "real" consenting people. Soon, we will in all likelihood see death. According to the "Washington Post," CBS was in the process of taping a new 10-day adventure race named "Subaru Primal Quest" when contestant Nigel Aylott was killed when he was struck by a falling boulder. He suffered fatal head injuries, and in accordance with the desires of Aylott's family and teammates, the producers continued the race. If the show should ever air, television viewers might see an actual death on their screens.
Those who know me well are aware that "The Truman Show" ranks up there among my favorite movies. Jim Carrey, in his first serious role, brings his childish comedic style to the dramatic role of a 30-year-old man who never got to live a true childhood. Ed Harris, Laura Linney, and Noah Emmerich fill out the cast of people intent on furthering their own entertainment careers at Truman's expense. Niccol and Weir collaborated to create an impressive social commentary, spawning arguments on destiny, faith, and yes, the definition of reality.
And if reality were ever to imitate film? I can't imagine a scenario where it wouldn't be successful. At one point in the movie, the creator of the show, Christof (Harris), defends his creation by saying, "I have given Truman the chance to live a normal life. The world, the place you live in, is the sick place."
Reality television appeals to the basest of human instincts; it is what causes Christof to call the world "sick." Fortunately, our society hasn't really reached that moral low yet ... Yet.
