It’s 1994, and the World Wide Web is taking its first tentative steps into the public consciousness. The term “information superhighway” is on the lips of every newscaster, and the future of technology seems paved with stacks of CD-ROMs. In this ‘90s landscape, a film like “Disclosure” (based on the book by Michael Crichton) arrived with a flurry of skepticism and anticipation.
No matter how you feel about the author, the film, its politics or execution, at its core, “Disclosure” is a high-stakes corporate thriller. Only here, the battleground is the server room, and the ultimate weapon is a digital file.
Let’s head down the virtual corridor together.
A Plot Within a Plot Within a Plot?
The film follows Tom Sanders, played by Michael Douglas, the embodiment of beleaguered ‘90s husbands. Tom is a tech executive expecting a nice, safe promotion. Instead, he gets a nightmare scenario: His new boss, Meredith Johnson (played by Demi Moore), is also his former lover — and a vindictive one, at that.
When a late-night meeting goes awry (don’t make me spell it out, just watch the scene), Meredith frames Tom for harassment. Spoiler: It’s to cover her tracks of corporate espionage. Director Barry Levinson loftily described this plotline as an exploration of the “echelon of power.” But let’s be honest: It’s a melodramatic noir that lacks any coherence.
Only the plot’s not done. To save his career (and his marriage), Tom must embark on a desperate hunt for a digital smoking gun buried deep within the company’s archives. It becomes a quest that turns a file search into a wholly absurd action sequence (more on this later).
“Disclosure” is a perfect time capsule of ‘90s corporate techno-paranoia — just with more ridiculous special effects and dubious prognostications about the future. So let’s explore what this film got right about the dawn of digital evidence and the insider threat, and then deconstruct its famously bizarre, yet iconic, vision of virtual reality.
What Disclosure Got Right: The Digital Paper Trail and The Insider Threat
This film’s most prescient insight is that the definitive proof of wrongdoing in the modern era would be digital. Its entire plot hinges on Tom’s frantic search for deleted emails, server logs and video files that can prove his innocence and expose Meredith’s deeper corporate conspiracy. The recovery or concealment of data drives every twist and turn.
In Meredith Johnson, the film gives us a perfect cinematic representation of a malicious insider. She is the ultimate example of an abuse of power, using her privileged access, understanding of the company’s systems, and executive authority to manipulate data and frame a subordinate. Meredith deletes critical files, alters records, and expertly leverages information as a weapon to orchestrate a corporate takeover.
This situation presents a textbook insider threat scenario. The Unit 42 Global Incident Response Report is filled with real-world cases where privileged users exploit their access for personal gain, corporate espionage or sabotage. The film serves as a powerful, if dramatic, argument for the principles of least privilege. It also poses a critical need for robust data governance and user activity monitoring to detect anomalous behavior, even from the most trusted accounts.
The Delusion: The Virtual Reality Corridor
And now for the main event. If I’m being honest, this scene is why I wanted to include “Disclosure” in Ctrl + Alt + Delusion. Even now, the most famous, baffling and gloriously delusional sequence is its virtual reality corridor. To find the one file that can save him, Tom puts on a clunky VR headset (and glove) and physically “walks” down a seemingly infinite, glowing white hallway that somehow represents the company’s database. Files are glowing cabinets, and the search is a physical journey.
Was this scene pure delusion? Or could you argue it was a technically complex and ambitious attempt to solve a classic cinematic problem? After all, how do you make a file search visually interesting? The filmmakers, using a combination of early CGI and motion capture, created a sequence that was a visual metaphor, yes, but also a functionally absurd solution. However, in reality, a simple search query would have taken seconds and not looked like a corporate labyrinth of legal proceedings.
It doesn’t stop there, though.
The appearance of Meredith’s “Angel” avatar, a god-like (albeit, truncated) figure that physically blocks Tom’s path further heightens the delusion. This moment is perhaps the most unintentionally comedic scene in the entire film — if not the decade. Sure, it’s a clever (is “clever” the right word?) visual for an access control error, and yet it also perfectly encapsulates the scene’s scorching impracticality.
This bizarre virtual library stands in stark contrast to how a modern SOC analyst finds a needle in a haystack. The real work is done by querying, not by walking. Modern, AI-driven security platforms ingest and normalize data from across the entire enterprise. They enable an analyst to run a single search and find a specific file or log entry in seconds — no VR and no absurd avatars.
In the end, the film’s delusion ultimately succeeds by inadvertently highlighting the critical importance of modern security platforms that provide centralized visibility and powerful analytics, eliminating the need to “walk” through your data. Today’s query searches aren’t as funny as “Disclosure,” but they’re definitely safer and more secure.
What if Disclosure Were Remade in 2026?
In a modern remake, DigiCom wouldn’t be making CD-ROM drives. They’d be a leading AI or cloud services company on the verge of a massive IPO. The “smoking gun” wouldn’t be a simple deleted email on a local server. It might be an ephemeral message on a secure messaging app, a deepfake video used for blackmail, or a manipulated log file in a complex, immutable cloud ledger.
The climax wouldn’t involve a clunky headset. Meredith might try to erase the evidence from a distributed blockchain, and Tom would have to use a sophisticated data visualization tool to trace the transaction’s origin.
The “Angel” avatar could be a defensive AI security agent that he has to outsmart with a clever exploit. Meredith’s modern insider attack would be far more sophisticated. She might use her credentials to create a “ghost” admin account, manipulate AI training data to sabotage a product launch, or exfiltrate sensitive IP to a competitor via a series of encrypted cloud transfers.
Human Element Meets the Digital World
“Disclosure” isn’t a “hacker” movie and shouldn’t be remembered as one. It should be remembered, however, as one of the first mainstream films to understand that corporate power struggles in the digital age would be won and lost based on who controls the data.
The film’s core lesson is that technology doesn’t remove human flaws like greed, ambition and deceit. Rather, it gives them new and more powerful tools. The virtual reality corridor might be a charmingly dated delusion. But, the film’s central fear — that the truth can be buried, altered or erased in a sea of corporate data — is more relevant than ever. It’s a powerful reminder that the most sophisticated security technologies must always be paired with a deep understanding of the human element.
Curious about what else Ben has to say? Check out his other articles on Perspectives.
