In Case I Don't See You

Masking, gaslighting and the price of authenticity in The Truman Show

“We accept the reality of the world with which we're presented, it’s as simple as that.” So says Truman Show creator Christof (Ed Harris), when asked to explain how 30-year-old Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey) has never come close to discovering he is the star, and the only non-actor, of a global reality TV phenomenon.

In reality, it’s anything but simple. Truman has been questioning and testing the confines of his world since the earliest years of his life. Meanwhile everyone around him, both on set and off, has conspired to lie, manipulate, gaslight and traumatise him in the effort to keep him from discovering the truth of his televised existence. And Truman, purportedly the most genuine, sincere person on television, has learned to please the people around him, act according to their expectations and hide his true self except in the most fleeting of moments. In a world made up of paid actors, Truman’s performance of normality outdoes them all.

The Truman Show is a 1998 dramedy where Truman Burbank is the star of an eponymous reality TV show set on the the island of Seaheaven, a television studio completely cut off from the outside world. Having always dreamed of exploring the world, the show’s creators and actors have conspired to keep Truman from leaving for thirty years. A series of production malfunctions (a lamp falling from the sky, Truman picking up a rogue radio signal in his car, past cast members infiltrating the set) coincide with his ever increasing determination to leave Seahaven and follow his love to Fiji. Suspicions raised, Truman notices more and more inconsistencies in the world around him and begins to suspect he is part of some larger conspiracy. Despite multiple distractions and obstacles thrown in his path, Truman steals a yacht and makes a final break for freedom.

The Truman Show premiered when I was 14 and just old enough to appreciate it’s searing critique of televised authenticity. It was the first serious Jim Carrey role in a career which had been marked by comedy ‘jems’ such as Dumb and Dumber and The Mask. 25 years later, with reality TV a mainstay of broadcasting and plethora of social media allowing us to project our own versions of authenticity into cyberspace 24/7, The Truman Show feels more relevant than ever. However prescient the critique of our online lives may be, it’s Truman’s determination to escape the suffocating pressure of small town life and the fabricated nostalgia of Boomer prosperity that I have always found so compelling.

No scripts, no cue cards?

The magic of The Truman Show, according to its creator Christof, is the protagonist’s authenticity. He is a true-man, a small town insurance salesman with correspondingly small dreams:

We've become bored with watching actors give us phony emotions. We are tired of pyrotechnics and special effects. While the world he inhabits is, in some respects, counterfeit, there's nothing fake about Truman himself. No scripts, no cue cards. It isn't always Shakespeare, but it's genuine. It's a life.

Christof has attempted to mould the quintessential American ‘everyman’ out of a perfect existence. Truman, accordingly has learned to play the few roles allowed to him within Christof’s universe: the ‘good son’, the ‘doting husband’, the ‘honest salesman.’ He understands the rules of this world and he tries to go along with them as best he can, complying with social expectations no matter how bored, uncomfortable or unhappy they make him.

Truman rarely gives away any of his anxieties or true desires, except perhaps for the conversations with his best friend Marlon. And this friendship is, devastatingly, one of the most manipulative in the whole show. Marlon only ever responds with platitudes about the beauty of small town life or reminders of how dangerous Truman’s desires can be.

Like so many autistic people, Truman has developed scripts for almost all his social interactions: from his iconic ‘Good afternoon, good evening and goodnight’ to his interactions with the newspaper salesman and his banter with potential colleagues on the street. None of these interactions feel genuine, yet his acquiescence to the daily repetition of these social scripts is the glue holding the world of the show together. Few of the actors on set are prepared to improvise and when he deviates from his script and routine, the world around him begins to collapse.

The early bird gathers no moss!

Masking is described by Embrace Autism as “the active suppression of the telltale signs of anxiety and (other) autistic features in order to maintain the appearance of confidence and social prowess.” It is a survival strategy adopted, often unconsciously, by autistic people to minimise negative attention and social rejection. But hiding our authenticity from ourselves and the world takes an emotional and physical toll which is often unsustainable in the long term.

I am only beginning to unpick the extent to which I learned to mask in the 37 years before receiving my diagnosis. Some of these behaviours had become so intrinsic to my daily existence I thought they were natural. I believed that was how everyone survived the daily grind. Over the last 18 months, however, I have begun to realise that masking was present in the way I held and moved my body, the way I watched my words, policed my facial expressions, maintained my appearance, the object and shape of my interests and hobbies, my behaviour at work and how I made and maintained friends and relationships. It was a near constant effort to maintain an appearance of normality to myself and the outside world, while ignoring and negating the very real emotional and physical distress this could cause me.

No matter how hard I tried, however, my masking was never 100% effective. Just when I thought I had grasped how I was supposed to be and act in any social setting I would go too far, slip up and have to face the consequences: from mild embarrassment to social rejection. I lived in constant fear that I would be found out, exposed for the faker and imposter I had always felt myself to be.

Masking can be so profound, that many autistics, myself included, are not even sure of the difference between our true selves and the persona we have attempted to project onto the world. For many of us, one of our strongest desires post-diagnosis/identification is to stop masking and discover who we really are beneath all the layers of learned behaviour. For others, however, that is not always possible. The consequences of speaking, moving and interacting as an openly autistic person can range from social rejection to institutionalisation. This is particularly true for people at the intersection of multiple marginalised identities, for whom the expectations of ‘socially acceptable behaviour’ are much higher and the consequences of diverging from the norm can be far more serious.

The real, unmasked, Truman is an imaginative, adventure seeking, nerd, but there are few moments in which he can safely express this side of himself: alone in front of his mirror as he acts out fantasies of becoming an explorer, in his basement or when unbothered by colleagues at his desk. Ironically, these most private moments of release are broadcast across the world.

As Truman begins to drop the mask and express his authentic self, the world around him resists, often violently. This is an all too real depiction of the kind of social rejection, from family, friends and colleagues autistic people often experience when we attempt to unmask. What Christof never quite grasps, however, is that the audience has fallen in love with the Truman who pretends to be a spaceman in his bathroom mirror and that he cannot be contained indefinitely.

Somebody help me, I’m being spontaneous!

Like Neo in The Matrix, and many an undiagnosed autistic person, Truman has a deep-seated suspicion that something is not quite right about his world. From his earliest years Truman was determined to test the limits of the world created, in theory, for him.

Each time he comes close to discovering what lies beneath the façade or leaving, the creators of the show found a distraction or created real trauma (his father dying, his mother becoming seriously ill) to keep him in place. Their gaslighting is relentless and deeply distressing. They all have a vested interest in keeping Truman in Seahaven and maintaining the ruse: if he were to leave they would be out of a job.

But he knows beneath it all something is wrong, he knows he doesn’t quite fit, the strain of pretending, moulding himself to meet the expectations of the world around eventually him becomes too much. His breakdown is a break for freedom.

You never had a camera in my head

The suffocating effect achieved in the Truman show is only partly a result of small minds from small towns where each day is pretty much like the next and social conformity is the only acceptable option. Christof’s obsessive micromanagement of all aspects of the show and all aspects of Truman’s life is an all too familiar horror. It’s clear that Christof has a genuine affection for Truman but, like so many overbearing and controlling parents, he projects his own fantasies of what it is to lead a good life onto Truman. He exerts control over where Truman goes, who he may marry and even when he might have a child. The irony is that Christof guards his privacy in a way he has never allowed his would-be son to enjoy.

As Truman begins to defy his ‘creator’ Christof resorts to ever more extreme forms of manipulation, emotional blackmail and physical harm to keep Truman under his control. When challenged about this imprisonment by Truman’s genuine love interest Sylvia (Natascha McElhone) Christof claims Truman: “could leave at any time. If his was more than just a vague ambition, if he was absolutely determined to discover the truth, there's no way we could prevent him.”

Truman does, eventually make one final bid for freedom and Christof responds by nearly drowning him. It becomes clear that Christof would rather kill his ‘son’ then release him from his authoritarian grip. Christof values his ‘creation’ more than Truman’s humanity.

In their only exchange of dialogue, Christof demands a response from Truman: “Talk to me. Say something. Well, say something, goddamn it. You're on television. You're live to the whole world.”

In the end, more than love, more than authenticity, it is television, ratings and revenues that matter.         

Good afternoon, good evening and good night!                                                      

The conclusion of The Truman Show - Truman’s break for freedom and lurch into the unknown - still makes me cry. As necessary as masking may be for avoiding real, and often punitive, consequences, there is something really powerful in embracing the unknown in yourself and and the world.

To wrap up for this week, I’ll just say that I want to read the fan fiction where Truman sues Christof’s ass for a life-time of wages and advertising revenue before moving to Fiji to live happily ever after with Sylvia.

Speaking of happily ever afters, join me in a fortnight to explore masking and neurodivergent dating in Shrek.