THE TRUMAN SHOW




                          A Screen Play

                               By

                         Andrew M. Niccol






     Director: Peter Weir

     Shooting Script






     NOTE: THE HARD COPY OF THIS SCRIPT CONTAINED SCENE NUMBERS.
     THEY HAVE BEEN REMOVED FOR THIS SOFT COPY.




     A FOGGED MIRROR

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

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

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

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

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


     INT.  KITCHEN.  MORNING.

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

                          TRUMAN
                What's that?

                          MERYL
                It's a surprise.

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

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

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

     Truman returns Meryl's kiss.

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

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

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


     EXT.  TRUMAN'S HOUSE.  DAY.

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

                          SPENCER
                Morning, Truman.

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

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

                          TRUMAN
                     (petting the dog)
                Hey, Pluto.

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

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

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

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

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

                          RADIO ANNOUNCER
                Another glorious morning in Seahaven, 
                folks.


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

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


     EXT.  SEAHAVEN ISLAND TOWNSHIP.  DAY.

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


     EXT.  OCEANSIDE STREET.  DAY.

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


     PLAYBACK - EXT.  LONG, WIDE BEACH.  DAY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

                          FATHER
                Come down now!

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

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

                          TRUMAN
                Why?  What's there?

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

     Truman is suddenly aware that the hundreds of other 
     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.


     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 
                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.

     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.

     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.


     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 
     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.

     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
     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.

                          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.

     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 
     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 
     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." 
     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
                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
                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.

     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.

     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.

                          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
                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.

     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 
     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.
                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
                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
     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?

                          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
                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.

                          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
     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.

     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?

                          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?!

                          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.

                          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.


     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.


     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.


     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 
     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
                     (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
     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.

     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?!

                          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.

     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
                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
                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
     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.

     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
                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.

     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
                     (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?

                          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 
     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
                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
                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.

                          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
                     (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 -

                          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?

                          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!!

     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.

                          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?!

     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!

                          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.
                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.
                     (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
     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.


     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 
	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
                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.

     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.

                          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.

     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
                "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.

                          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.

                          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 
                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.


     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.

     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?

                          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 
     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.
                     (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.


     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
                     (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
                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)
                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.

     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.

     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.


     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).

     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.

     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
                     (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 
     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.

                          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
                     (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?

                          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.

     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.

                          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.

     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
     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?

                          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
                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.

     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