THE TRUMAN SHOW (1998) is a film about a reality television show that chronicles the life of an unsuspecting man.
12/08/09 | Film

The Truman Show

by Fortunato Salazar

TRUMAN CAPOTE: Do you know the word that was used in the forests of ancient Lesbos to describe the sound of branches creaking together in the wind?

HARPER LEE: No, what?

TRUMAN CAPOTE: You don’t want to know. It’s a dreadful joke.


TRUMAN CAPOTE: Before I wrote In Cold Blood, I discovered a cult of followers of the Marquis de Sade living in Silicon Valley. To maintain a facade of innocence, they named their children after characters in To Kill a Mockingbird. Atticus Finch, Dill, Scout, Courtroom Spectator, and so on.

HARPER LEE: You don’t say.


TRUMAN CAPOTE: Harper, have you ever had a brow job?

HARPER LEE: No, but often I put a great deal of mental effort into writing a single paragraph.


TRUMAN CAPOTE: Ah, Monroeville. For me it was a place of a torment—and of salvation.

HARPER LEE: Yes, yes…but little by little one makes one’s way along, and the path one treads is strewn with flowers.

TRUMAN CAPOTE: Whoop-dee damn-doo.


TRUMAN CAPOTE: Harper, do you know whom I really can’t abide?

HARPER LEE: No, Truman, who?

TRUMAN CAPOTE. Shia LaBeouf. Last night, sleep was full of nightmares, each and every one featuring Shia LaBeouf. At dawn, bickering morning colors rushed up into the sky, and trembled there in pastel ambivalence.

HARPER LEE: You are such a card.


TRUMAN CAPOTE: During the four years I lived in Holcomb, Kansas, I used to fantasize myself as a giant moth buzzing over the city, a female moth with gargantuan pudenda, a moth in heat, buzzing the innocent male citizens of the town in a frenzy of predatory lust. I feared for the safety of the scurrying male citizens. I had these fantasies while wriggling around on the carpet of the house I rented while watching old Marlon Brando films. The carpet was littered with pistachio shells. After my frenzied wriggling I would have to pick the shells out of my wings—I mean mohair sweater.

HARPER LEE: Why Truman, I do believe you’re drooling.


TRUMAN CAPOTE: I never did understand why you named that character after a Roman orator who committed euthanasia by starving himself to death.

HARPER LEE: Poor, dear Truman.


TRUMAN CAPOTE: Harper, I do have a tendency to drool. I have nightmares in which I drool and am then shot between the eyes just like that rabid dog from our childhood that you could not resist inserting in your novel. Technically, Harper, you are responsible for those nightmares.

HARPER LEE: Truman, we are all responsible for our own nightmares. I often have a nightmare in which I am the character I created whose name is Scout, carried off by an eagle and made to live among the eagle nestlings. Should I hold the eagle responsible for that nightmare?


TRUMAN CAPOTE: Harper, does Shia LaBeouf remind you of a young me?

HARPER LEE: Exactly, except that he does not use brown eye pencil to give himself freckles.