A walk around the corner. The sliding glass door opens in the back. A familiar voice says hello. A little chit-chat. A walk out of frame, only to be greeted by an unfamiliar presence. An awkward, uncomfortable flash of realization. Cameras and lights close in. A frank interrogation with no answers. The world collapses. “You’re free to go.” A walk out the door. A command to get down on the ground.

Between copycat YouTubers and the praise of millions searching for closure in their own abuse cases, Dateline NBC’s (1992-Present) segment To Catch a Predator (2004-2007) lives in infamy, but many see the show as a net positive, citing the show’s efforts for citing accountability for sexual predators and the sexual exploitation of children. Documentarian David Osit isn’t satisfied with that legacy and confronts To Catch a Predator’s legacy head-on in Predators (2025), the fascinating documentary analyzing the show and the troubling culture left in its wake.

From 2004-2007, To Catch a Predator followed Perverted-Justice, a watchdog group that conducted twelve sting operations across the United States, hosted by journalist Chris Hansen. Soon after airing, law enforcement became involved, which led to the arrests of most individuals apprehended.

However, after the show was canceled in 2008 following the suicide of Bill Conradt, the assistant district attorney of Rockwall County, Texas after a pursuit by Perverted-Justice for talking to and exchanging pictures with a volunteer posing as a 13-year-old boy, the show has enjoyed a resurgence.

Predators opens with a typical scene from the show and, admittedly, as my sister, girlfriend, and I watched on the couch, the expected rhythms of watching a To Catch a Predator episode emerged. The entertainment factor of watching someone getting caught in a heinous act, the awkward comedy of the interrogation, and the satisfaction of seeing justice served all culminate into why the show was an instant hit.

However, Predators dares to challenge the public’s preconceived notions about the accused under scrutiny–not for their alleged crimes, but for the reasoning behind why sexual predators develop their preference. It’s a question that’s often asked by Hansen on To Catch a Predator’s original run, and it’s a question often shrugged off by the accused with no answer to give.

Predators often works through this empathetic lens to highlight its criticisms of the show. While these criticisms aren’t exclusive to Osit, Predators finds itself in the minority of perspective when analyzing the net positive that To Catch a Predator (or subsequent Hansen programming) provides.

Segmented into the history of To Catch a Predator, the legacy of similar online predator confrontation efforts, and Hansen himself, who created a spiritual successor program called Hansen vs. Predator (2019-Present) on Crime Watch Daily, Predators does a deep dive into each era of the phenomenon in engrossing detail.

Some of the film’s best moments are through the perspective of ethnographer Mark de Rond, who studies and reports on footage from the show and immediate police interrogations upon arrest. De Rond steps back to see the fleeting humanity in its subjects.

The lack of resources readily available, the stigmatization facing those who express a desire to change, and the emerging accessibility of the Internet at the dawn of the 21st century all snowball into the perspective that fiercely challenges the public’s view of underage sex offenders. The vast majority of the public would agree that the crime is repugnant, but in the wake of TCAP’s exposé, what has been done to better society as a result?

When the public shouts, “kill all pedophiles,” are we eliminating the root of the problem? Is there a solution that lends itself to harm reduction instead of instilling fear that they may be caught with their pants down on national television?

The entertainment that To Catch a Predator brought to the living rooms of Americans everywhere and the flames it fanned may have served its short-term purpose, but are the long-term effects on the culture it bred worth the entertainment?

Osit, as an open survivor of childhood sexual assault, is brave enough to ask these questions and finds himself at the end of Predators with no closer than before to answers, even after painstaking interviews with former TCAP producers, police officers, knock-off YouTubers, and Hansen himself.

However, when no answers are to be found, you realize how profoundly necessary Osit’s plea is to his audience as the credits roll.

Review Courtesy of Landon Defever

This review was submitted for the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.

Feature Image Credit to Sundance Institute via Variety