The image is everything, particularly on television. Aging television journalist Greg Conway (Webber) begins suspecting that something is not quite right with his more senior colleague (Randolph), who also hasn't seen face-to-face in quite some time. Suspecting that the person doing the colleague's broadcasts is an imposter, he begins his own investigation - and learns to his horror just how right he was.
"Closed Circuit" is a sharply written and directed story that would have been welcome in any of the classic anthology series ("Twilight Zone", "Alfred Hitchcock Presents", "Thriller") as well as modern anthologies like "Black Mirror," and was a great choice to kick off the short-lived "Darkroom." Alan Brennert - who would later go on to be a major contributor to the 1980s "Twilight Zone" reboot - crafts an ingenious story that might have seemed fanciful in 1981, but is eerily relevant today in our current virtual reality world. Each of the plot twists is fairly earned and driven by believable character motivations - indeed, the way he sets up Webber's key character shift is particularly inventive and believable. Rick Rosenthal's direction is also solid, effectively utilizing the darkness of several of his settings (e.g., the backstage and control room of a TV studio, a set of emergency stairs) to heighten the tension of the episode.
Best of all are the two key performances. Webber (a consistently underrated character actor) is splendid as Conway - a man who would like to believe that he is seen as something more substantial than his dignified headshot, but worries more and more that this is not the case. He's matched wonderfully by the late and prolific Richard Anderson as the Mephistophelean studio bigwig, who plays the egos and aspirations of his employees like a chess grandmaster. For those who remember Anderson only from his role on "The Six Million Dollar Man," this episode is a nice reminder that he was equally adept at playing villains, be they unctuous sycophants ("Paths of Glory") or borderline psychotic zealots ("Seven Days in May"), and his character's "seduction" of Conway is inspired. Rounding this out is a nicely ambiguous performance from Mary Frann (later of "Newhart"), playing Conway's coolly professional producer, who is either the voice of rationality pooh-poohing Conway's seemingly irrational fears, or studying up on Anderson's playbook to rise to the top of her profession.
For a show that has been relegated to television obscurity, "Darkroom" certainly had a strong launching point. "Closed Circuit" is definitely worth searching out.
"Closed Circuit" is a sharply written and directed story that would have been welcome in any of the classic anthology series ("Twilight Zone", "Alfred Hitchcock Presents", "Thriller") as well as modern anthologies like "Black Mirror," and was a great choice to kick off the short-lived "Darkroom." Alan Brennert - who would later go on to be a major contributor to the 1980s "Twilight Zone" reboot - crafts an ingenious story that might have seemed fanciful in 1981, but is eerily relevant today in our current virtual reality world. Each of the plot twists is fairly earned and driven by believable character motivations - indeed, the way he sets up Webber's key character shift is particularly inventive and believable. Rick Rosenthal's direction is also solid, effectively utilizing the darkness of several of his settings (e.g., the backstage and control room of a TV studio, a set of emergency stairs) to heighten the tension of the episode.
Best of all are the two key performances. Webber (a consistently underrated character actor) is splendid as Conway - a man who would like to believe that he is seen as something more substantial than his dignified headshot, but worries more and more that this is not the case. He's matched wonderfully by the late and prolific Richard Anderson as the Mephistophelean studio bigwig, who plays the egos and aspirations of his employees like a chess grandmaster. For those who remember Anderson only from his role on "The Six Million Dollar Man," this episode is a nice reminder that he was equally adept at playing villains, be they unctuous sycophants ("Paths of Glory") or borderline psychotic zealots ("Seven Days in May"), and his character's "seduction" of Conway is inspired. Rounding this out is a nicely ambiguous performance from Mary Frann (later of "Newhart"), playing Conway's coolly professional producer, who is either the voice of rationality pooh-poohing Conway's seemingly irrational fears, or studying up on Anderson's playbook to rise to the top of her profession.
For a show that has been relegated to television obscurity, "Darkroom" certainly had a strong launching point. "Closed Circuit" is definitely worth searching out.
