When Chris Hansen arrived at the home of Bill Conradt on November 5th, 2006, his To Catch a Predator crew in tow, he didn’t expect a man to die. But what exactly did he expect? To expose a criminal, arrest a dangerous man, and protect the people of Murphy, Texas, from predators? Or to create a spectacle that he could put on TV?

The nature of Hansen’s show remains controversial to this day, and director Lance Oppenheim tackles it in his narrative feature debut, Primetime. The film is not your standard biopic, as it takes to task not just Hansen and his show’s methods, but the entire entertainment apparatus that enables a show like To Catch a Predator to not just exist but to become a hit.

The introduction of television (and later the internet) into American culture amplified an eternal pastime: turning moral judgment into a spectacle for all to observe. As Robert Pattinson’s Hansen says during the film, “There used to be a pillory in every village. Now there’s a television in every living room.” Hansen did not create this phenomenon, nor did the television industry, but this model of mass entertainment increased demand for these spectacularized displays of morality. 

The success of To Catch a Predator relies on the audience’s desire to look down on those they deem morally inferior. It’s no surprise that such a show would be a hit among American audiences, as a sense of moral superiority has always been at the center of American culture. It’s worth noting, too, that these tendencies peaked in the post-9/11 climate that the show existed during — a fact that Primetime certainly acknowledges. TV news coverage perpetuated sentiments of nationalism and revenge on those who were deemed “villains.”

In Primetime, the pressure is on for Hansen as the show has been bumped to a primetime slot on the network. How can he possibly compete with Lost? The competitive nature of television has steadily grown since its inception, with the addition of more and more channels and, eventually, streaming networks. Audiences have more choices than ever before. For Hansen and co., that means raising the stakes and the spectacle. 

The film, much like past critiques of To Catch a Predator, questions the lines between entertainment, education, and exploitation. Hansen defends the show by playing up its educational value, highlighting how it raised awareness of the kinds of dangers children could face in a new era of digital communication. And, of course, there’s the moral component, the assertion that what he’s doing is good and just, and that he is protecting people by exposing these predators. But he can’t deny that it’s also about ratings. For people to tune in, they have to be entertained. Being a primarily documentary director, Oppenheim understands what it means to walk the line between these ideals. Yet Oppenheim chose to pursue this project as a narrative film rather than a documentary, giving him the flexibility to play up the spectacle of Hansen’s story and intentionally test the limits Hansen himself once pushed.

This sensationalizing of punishing immoral actions extends beyond the TV show, too. Primetime also delves into Hansen’s personal life, and particularly the affair he is having. When a reporter threatens to expose him, he finds that his own moral failings are about to be plated for public consumption. His actions are about to become the spectacle readers will look down upon and feel some satisfaction at having been publicly exposed. Sound familiar? Oppenheim certainly wants you to see the connection. And Hansen, predictably, cares more about preserving his reputation than he does his relationship with his wife. After all, To Catch a Predator’s effectiveness depends on the audience seeing Hansen as a proactive do-gooder who can protect them from evil.

For a film so evocative of the time period it depicts, Primetime has a remarkable amount to say about our current-day media landscape. The practice of boasting moral superiority to gain engagement has continued on television, but it has also migrated to social media. Performative activism has become a surefire way to get likes. We see people take to social media every day to call out their cheating spouse, problematic roommate, and so on. It’s the same urge that drove people to the pillory: to look down upon and relish the humiliation of those deemed morally inferior to them.

We also can’t ignore Hansen and To Catch a Predator’s contributions to the evolution of true crime as its own kind of entertainment, which is a moral debacle that would take far more discussion to even scratch the surface. Nevertheless, it feeds on these same desires under the guise of being informative. 

It’s reminiscent of the moral debate that has surrounded To Catch a Predator for the past two decades, and the one which Primetime brilliantly interrogates. Are these objects created with any real intention to do good, or is it all just spectacle engineered in the hope that people will watch?

Article Courtesy of Claire May Lewis

Feature Image Credit to A24