All About the Man in the Moon.

Rating: 7/10 (5 January 2008)

Kind of a complicated business, this film. Most of Peter Weir's movies are, but at least he lays open here the source of our discomfort. It's a palimpsest of basically three layers. (1) The visual story we see unfolding on the screen, the one that Peter Weir shows us. (2) The story as constructed by the world's greatest producer, The Man in the Moon named Cristof (Ed Harris), who manages the television show of which the thirtyish real-estate salesman, Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey), is the unknowing star. And (3) the presumed allegory that deals with such Big Issues as conformity, happiness, God, free will, artifice, and television.
Carrey lives on glossy, carefully enameled Sea Haven Island, a paradisaical place of warm sunshine, neat middle-class housing, clipped and barbered lawns, cheery neighbors and co-workers, a beautiful and accommodating wife (Laura Linney), and a lifelong friend who bring him the occasional six pack of brewskies. Everything is peace and prosperity. Then things begin to seem a little odd to Carrey. When he breaks his routine, he stumbles into unsettling scenes. What should be the interior of an elevator turns out to be a craft service table with glazed donuts and a few strangers who gawk at him before running off.
There isn't space to go on with this in any detail, but finally Carrey realizes that he can trust no one on the island and is literally a prisoner there. Every escape attempt is blocked by some incident -- traffic, an accident at a nuclear power plant -- something. He manages to sail away across the small sea and, pow, the bowsprit of his little boat punctures the wall of the largest television studio in the world. His life is a world-wide hit on TV, filmed on 5,000 hidden cameras. Given a choice between the scripted, almost perfect life he's been leading, and a new life full of challenges and entropy, he plumps for -- well, guess which one.
As for level number two, the TV program built around the life of one Truman Burbank, who has been on the world's screens from the instant of birth until his final choice, Ed Harris is the man responsible and he and his crew live in the fake moon that hovers so picturesquely in Sea Haven's night time sky. Harris gives the best performance. His character brims with intricacies. His first thoughts are of the show, of the business part of it. It's sustained by product placement. Every artifact that Carrey touches or talks about brings in revenue. But Harris isn't at all a caricature. Of course he wants Carrey to stay put and the show to continue, but he's sentimental too. When he tells Carrey at the end, "I was there when you took your first baby steps," he's soft and convincing. But as the director of the world's greatest show, Harris is pretty clumsy and it's a wonder that it took the hero some thirty years to tumble. Carrey tries to leave the island on a bus but the bus won't start. The driver, an actor, calls, "Everybody off," and the other passengers who have been sitting like dummies all stand up at once and file out in order. That's not how it's done, not if it's to look like anything but acting. An experienced director would ask who was born in the first half of the year. They should stand up at random, some slow and others not, and crowd up at the door, followed by those who were born in the second half of the year. In fact, Harris is an extraordinarily inept director.
That leads us to level three -- what's it all about? I'd be the first to admit I don't know. Peter Weir might even be the second. I doubt, though, that it's any accident that Ed Harris's director who lives in the fake sky goes by the name of Cristof. His mixed attitude towards Carrey is probably not accidental either. Harris has fits of pique when Carrey doesn't do as he's expected. (Cf., the Garden of Eden business in Genesis.) But he's merciful and spares the miscreant's life, edging into New Testament territory.
If he's sometimes careless, maybe that's why we humans have this tendency to mutilate one another. Imagine a director who can stage an impromptu power plant accident off-island to stop Carrey but has extras check their watches before crossing the street. "What, then, did the hand of the potter shake?" The world applauds when Carrey achieves free will, although nobody is sure that's such a hot idea. Look what happened to Alex in "A Clockwork Orange." No more space, I'm afraid. Good luck with the movie. It gets a lot of points for tripping up an audience expecting a dumb comedy or a dumb action movie. It's anything but that. Weir seems almost as ambitious as Cristof.
One final question. Why in hell would an entire outside world be enthralled by a TV program about the life of a dull man? But maybe it's not worth asking in light of the popularity of reality TV shows like "American Idol" and "Survivor."