Welcome to Seahaven, a creepily perfect suburban idyll inhabited by
the cast and crew of a TV phenomenon. Its unwitting star lives out his
daily routine to an audience of millions, until he starts to notice a lot
of things that aren’t quite right: a light fitting falls out of the sky,
lifts don’t go anywhere, and driving out of town seems to be rather
tricky. Credit to Andrew Niccol (Gattaca) not only for thinking up this
marvellously witty premise, but for using it to tap into a wealth of
fascinating ideas about the boundary (non-existent, in Truman’s
case) between public and private identity. Credit to Weir, too, for his
admirably precise execution.
