Peacock's latest sci-fi espionage thriller, 'The Copenhagen Test,' takes viewers into a world where surveillance is not just external but deeply internal, affecting one's own reality. Set against the backdrop of a very gray morning in Toronto outside Etobicoke’s Cinespace Studios, the atmosphere inside the production is tightly wound and busy, mirroring the tension of the series itself. The show introduces Simu Liu as Alexander Hale, a first-generation Chinese-American intelligence analyst whose brain has been literally hacked, causing him to unknowingly broadcast everything he sees and hears to an unknown enemy. This premise creates a narrative reminiscent of 'Minority Report' meets 'The Truman Show' with a sprinkle of 'The Bourne Identity,' as Alexander must constantly perform, playing double duty to flush out his observers while feigning ignorance of his surveillance. Along the way, he questions his own reality, loyalties, and the true intentions of the covert intelligence unit he works for, known as the Orphanage.

At the core of 'The Copenhagen Test' is a concept described by its creator, Thomas Brandon, as a structural blueprint rooted in the espionage world of John le Carré, like 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.' Brandon emphasizes that the smartest strategy for a source of information is to keep it open. This understanding underpins the series' boldest idea: constructing a 'Truman Show' world around Alexander. The Orphanage assigns him a girlfriend and controls aspects of his life, creating an artificial normalcy. Alexander, realizing his senses are compromised, chooses the risky path of keeping the channel open and performing, rather than shutting down. He is allowed to move freely and build routines, but only within parameters shaped by unseen hands. This narrative diverges into two distinct worlds: Alexander's engineered reality and the 'NASA mission control'-like room at the Orphanage, where a watchdog team monitors his every move. Director Thomas Brandon and cinematographer Luc Montpellier constantly referenced 'Apollo 13' for its split perspective, with the analogy of "Ed Harris at home in a control room" capturing the essence of these two sides trying to trust each other.

Visually, the series aims for a grounded aesthetic that feels uncomfortably close to our own reality. Cinematographer Luc Montpellier explains that many sets, designed by production designer Mark Steel, were conceived as "soft boxes" to monitor Alexander. The show deliberately avoids stylized point-of-view shots or overt visual effects, shying away from "hack-o-vision." Instead, the surveillance is filtered through screens and observers, mirroring Alexander’s experience of being constantly watched. Actress Sinclair Daniel, who plays Alexander's handler Parker, notes that the show lives "five minutes in the future," where biohacking and technological elements blur the line between reality and fiction. The danger, according to Brandon, lies in tipping the show too far into spectacle, preferring to treat the horrifying concept of Alexander's broadcasted senses almost mundanely. The aesthetic leans into analog textures and lived-in spaces, like phones with cords and offices full of paper, to create a subtle yet cumulative tension between the familiar and the artificial. Montpellier ensured that cinematography and lighting supported the notion of constantly wondering what's real and what's not, using subtle disorientation and contrasting lighting between the chaotic real world and the rigid, timeless environment of the underground Orphanage.

Simu Liu's portrayal of Alexander Hale is central to the series' thematic depth. Alexander is introduced as highly competent but unfulfilled, constantly operating at a high level while being "passed over" in his career. This pre-existing experience of scrutiny and judgment makes him a compelling test case for the Orphanage. Brandon highlights how Alexander, as a first-generation American whose parents were Chinese immigrants, carries an "added burden" of proving his loyalty and trustworthiness. The hack, therefore, doesn't just create a new problem but literalizes a lifelong pressure, turning his performance into a survival method intertwined with a moral dilemma. Alexander's journey isn't just about surviving the system but reclaiming authorship of his own identity and gaining agency, rather than being managed or reduced to a problem for others to solve. The meta aspect of the show places the audience in on Alexander's performance, but the deeper paranoia lies in discerning truth when it's right in front of you, as Jennifer Yale emphasizes that "everyone has a different truth" and different agendas within the system.

One of the most dangerous elements of 'The Copenhagen Test' is the emotional engineering that occurs once Alexander's surveillance channel is kept open. The Orphanage doesn't just monitor his movements; they manipulate his emotional life. Michelle, played by Barrera, is Alexander's engineered girlfriend, whose mission carries extremely high stakes, as her visibility to the enemy could be her last mission or her freedom. Barrera describes the role as both restrictive and freeing, requiring a professional performance of manipulative affection. Parker, Alexander's handler played by Sinclair Daniel, orchestrates Alexander's dates and relationships from afar, developing a "parasocial" and possessive attachment to her "creation." This layered performance creates immense pressure points, as Alexander must navigate a relationship where every interaction carries ambiguous meanings depending on who in the room knows what, forcing him to consider how he would act if nobody was watching versus if he knew he was being observed.

The action sequences in 'The Copenhagen Test' are deliberately grounded and brutal, contrasting with the psychological theater of surveillance. Stunt coordinator James Mark explains that the mandate was to keep everything realistic, leaning towards military combat rather than the supernatural elements seen in Liu's previous work like 'Shang-Chi.' The challenge in TV production is always the tight schedule, requiring choreography that actors can execute repeatedly without injury while maintaining the sense of danger. For Barrera, Michelle's fighting style is an extension of her deception; if she wanted to kill Alexander, she could, but she must make it look like she's merely fighting, as "they’re watching." This focus on realism and the demands of surveillance also informed the set design and lighting. Executive producer Mark Winemaker describes adjusting sets and adding lights to ensure the dark, operational vibe felt authentic, using LED lighting in coves to create contrast without flattening the space, ensuring the world was built to withstand physical impact as the performance turns brutal.

Ultimately, what makes 'The Copenhagen Test' profoundly unsettling is not just the technology or surveillance, but the unwavering certainty of the system behind it. No one within the Orphanage believes their actions are evil; instead, they see themselves as careful, calculated, and responsible stewards acting for the "greater good." Winemaker emphasizes that the physical spaces—like offices and control rooms—are designed to feel operational, not like "villain lairs," reinforcing this unsettling normalcy. Jennifer Yale points out that characters within the system make "compromises they believe are justified." This institutional calm is what makes the series emotionally volatile, as it forces the audience to confront the discomfort of how easily such justifications take hold within a supporting structure. Thomas Brandon frames the series less as an espionage story and more about "authorship" and "who gets to decide what version of reality everyone else has to live in," highlighting the dangers of authority, control over information, and the consequences when that control fractures. Simu Liu's Alexander seeks agency, while Mark O’Brien’s Cobb, Alexander's rival, acts as a disruptor, unable to accept the institutional shrug and constantly seeking the truth amidst the red flags. 'The Copenhagen Test' premieres on December 27 on Peacock, challenging viewers to consider how to know what's true when truth itself is manufactured.