In what may be the most overpraised film in a decade, Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey) is a 29 year old insurance salesman, adopted at birth by a media corporation. His entire life is broadcast, and his mythical home town of Seahaven is actually a gigantic TV studio, presided over by guru Christof (Ed Harris).

To accept the premise of this story, we need to suspend copious amounts of disbelief. Somehow, Truman is just now discovering that his life may be a bit weird. Accepting that, can you buy into the premise that the TV audience would watch--with high ratings--a terribly banal program with absolutely no excitement? No excitement, that is, until we begin to watch everything unravel--and that wasn't scripted.

Aren't the popular "reality" shows of real life TV exciting? More on the order of Jerry Springer, Cops, and the like?

Why, then, are virtually all the critics gushing over this movie? Is it profound to note that TV has control over many people's lives? Is it profound to point out the blurring of distinction between fantasy and reality? Perhaps the critics are so wrapped up in media, 24 hours a day, that they truly believe that these lame observations are a big revelation.

Here's another tack: Are director Peter Weir and writer Andrew Niccol attacking their own industry (while pocketing the money, thank you very much)? Are actors, extras, and tech crew personnel so desperate to work that they don't mind being part of a huge conspiracy, which does great harm to an innocent? Is it satire that Truman's pretend(?) wife Meryl (Laura Linney) will prostitute herself for years? How about Truman's "best friend" Marlon (Noah Emmerich)? Is this whole thing just a paean to Sam Goldwyn's famous line that when you learn how to fake sincerity, you're in?

And then there's the conspiracy theory aspect. Any rational person has figured out that conspiracies basically can't exist. When was the last time you were able to get even three people to keep a secret for very long? How in the world could it EVER be possible that not a single person could get a message to Truman? What about disaffected cast and crew? How about the audience, for God's sake!

Sure enough, Truman's true love, Lauren, played by actress Sylvia (Natascha McElhone) does try to convey information to him, but is whisked away. There is a vague reference to her participation in "Free Truman" rallies, but this aspect is never developed. Why wasn't there an outcry by the supposedly involved audience to bring her character back into the show?

In other words, can the audience care about Truman the character, but not care about Truman the person, when they are indistinguishable? Yes, this point is interesting, but I'm betting that it was not the main intent of the film's creators.

My take is that the intent is more along the lines of feeding the conspiracy paranoia. All of the Gen-Xers--Carrey's core audience-- are now "trapped" in their straight jobs. They resent their responsibilities. They so long to get off their island, and everyone around them is part of the plot. If only they could break away and be true to themselves.

Then again, maybe the conspiracy is really between each GenXer and the image in the mirror.