The Truman Show Page #2

Once again, the flashback appears to be playing on a television

screen.

The sandy-haired SEVEN-YEAR-OLD TRUMAN sits in the middle row of

a Catholic Elementary School classroom surrounded by thirty-or-

so other well-scrubbed, uniformed YOUNGSTERS. DOUGLAS, the boy

next to Truman is on his feet under the scrutiny of a sixty-

year-old NUN with a face as wrinkled as her habit is starched.

DOUGLAS:

I wanna be a chiropractor like my dad.

SISTER:

(impressed)

Tell the class what a chiropractor does,

Douglas.

DOUGLAS:

He helps people by fixing their backs,

Sister Olivia.

SISTER:

That's right, Douglas.

(holding her back, hamming it up)

Perhaps I'll be your first patient.

The CLASS titters. Douglas sits down, pleased with himself,

throwing a smirk to Truman.

SISTER:

What about you, Truman?

Truman rises to his feet.

TRUMAN:

I want to be an explorer

(with reverence)

...like Magellan.

The Sister's face falls.

SISTER:

No one's going to pay you to do that,

Truman.

(with scarcely disguised glee)

Besides, you're too late. There's

nothing left to explore.

The class roars with laughter and Truman takes his seat.

EXT. LOWER MANHATTAN, FINANCIAL DISTRICT. MORNING.

From TRUMAN'S POV we see that he is staring up at relief

letters that proclaim, "American Life & Accident Insurance,

Inc." above an office building's entrance.

A POLICE OFFICER walking his beat, wanders in Truman's

direction. From another angle, we observe Truman from the

Police Officer's POV - shaky, handheld camera - on a television

screen. Truman enters the building.

INT. INSURANCE COMPANY - TWELFTH FLOOR. DAY.

In a cramped, cluttered, windowless cubicle, TRUMAN talks on

the telephone.

TRUMAN:

(into receiver)

...okay, okay, let's call it what it is...

I'm not gonna lie to you...life insurance

is death insurance...you just gotta 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. He

checks the spine - "MORTALITY STATISTICS, 1986 to Present".

TRUMAN:

(into receiver)

Hold on will ya?

(to Clerk, putting receiver

to chest, referring to the book)

This's no good. Lumps all drownings

together. I need drownings broken down

by category.

The Clerk shrugs, returns the book to his trolley and continues

his rounds.

TRUMAN:

(returning to his call)

...just think about what I've been

saying and lemme...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 Sydney, Australia?

(a long delay makes Truman

even more uncomfortable)

...er, yes. Do you have a listing

for a Lauren Powers...

(pause)

...nothing listed?...what about a Sylvia

Powers...nothing? Thanks...

Truman replaces the receiver, disappointed.

INT. LOCAL ITALIAN DELI. LUNCHTIME.

TRUMAN stands in line with a crush of other WHITE COLLAR

WORKERS. As he reaches the counter, the store owner, TYRONE,

has anticipated his order and ahs already begun preparing a

meatball and mozzarella sandwich on Italian roll. Truman gazes

at the sandwich skillfully under construction, pained by his own

predictability.

TYRONE:

(nauseatngly cheerful)

How's it goin', Truman?

TRUMAN:

(deadpan)

Not bad. I just won the State Lottery.

TYRONE:

(not listening to Truman's

reply, as Truman anticipated)

Good. Good.

TRUMAN:

Tyrone, what if I said I didn't want meatball today?

TYRONE:

(not missing a beat)

I'd ask for identification.

Truman forces a half-smile.

We focus on another MALE OFFICE WORKER in line at the cash

register, watching Truman out of the corner of his eye. About

to depart with his sandwich, the man receives a guarded rebuke

from the FEMALE CASHIER.

FEMALE CASHIER:

(a whisper to prevent Truman overhearing)

He's right there. You're supposed to pay

when he's here.

MALE CUSTOMER:

(nonchalant shrug as he departs)

He never notices.

We re-focus our attention on Truman who is taking the wrapped

sandwich from Tyrone.

TYRONE:

Hold on, Truman. I got somethin' to show ya.

Tyrone holds up a front page of the New York Post that

features a photograph of a scaled-down replica of Columbus'

Santa Maria, moored in front of the Manhattan skyline. Truman's

eyes widen at the photograph.

TYRONE:

(referring to the photo)

The flagship of Christoforo...our Genoese

navigator, huh? I know you love this like me.

TRUMAN:

(averting his eyes with difficulty)

Not me. You got the wrong man.

Tyrone tries not to let his disappointment show as Truman pays

the Cashier and exits.

TYRONE:

See ya tomorrow, Truman.

EXT. CITY PARK. DAY.

TRUMAN eats lunch alone on a concrete bench in a cement park.

From his briefcase he pulls out an old hardcovered book, "To The

Ends Of The Earth - The Age Of Exploration".

A TRANSIENT in a wheelchair approaches, looking for a handout.

Truman gives the homeless man half of his sandwich, reconsiders

and gives him it all, his appetite gone. As the transient

wheels himself away, Truman loses himself in his book.

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