One of the strangest things about aging as a media savvy person is seeing periods of your life mined for purposes of nostalgia. Primetime, the shocking chronicle of the meteoric early-aughts rise of To Catch A Predator, marks the first time I’ve seen 2006 depicted in such a way. I remember being 22. I remember getting in an argument with my roommate about the ethics of Dateline NBC’s juggernaut of televised justice. I remember the episode of LOST with the polar bears. I remember a world before Robert Pattinson was the most interesting actor on the planet.
Here Pattinson plays Chris Hansen, the journalist-turned-host whose gimmicky hidden camera show purported to bring the worst of humanity to justice. Potential sex criminals were lured to a home on the promise of sexual activity with a minor. Upon their arrival, Hansen would emerge with transcripts of their correspondence, which would inevitably lead to highly satisfying television. And right when the mark unerringly swore to never engage in such behaviors again, the cops would tackle him to the ground and cuff him.
It’s no wonder that the show became a huge hit. There’s nothing we as a culture enjoy more than seeing a villain get their due comeuppance. Partially because, well, good. Villains so often get away with their crimes (especially in the case of sex crimes) and it’s nice to watch justice prevail. But it’s also partially because an agreed upon villain gives the rest of us the assumptive permission to be as villainous as we want in order to stop them.
This idea was explored last year with Predators, a brilliant documentary about of To Catch a Predator, in which the Nietzschean “lest we become monsters ourselves” quote was explored with plenty of editorialization. Predators had an agenda, and it leans into it with strength and efficiency. Primetime, on the other hand, is less concerned with the plotty events of the show’s short broadcast life, and more concerned with the characters who found themselves wrapped up in this tempest of business, entertainment, and ethical quandaries. No judgment is passed upon any of the ensemble, including the sex criminals who provide fodder for Hansen’s show. No statement is made outright on the ethics and morals of televised justice. Instead, the pieces are permitted to fall where they may, and it’s up to the viewer to assign an angle. It’s a bold way to go about telling the story, but it serves the film well: if no one is depicted as pointedly awful, then no one, even with good intentions, can have their lesser evils portrayed as necessary. Daring stuff, and it will likely make some squeamish, as it should.
The film chronicles a period between 2006-2007 where To Catch a Predator went from a novelty program to primetime viewing. At its height, it was up against LOST for ratings. And if anyone else remembers the period like I do, you’ll know that LOST was the show to beat. In order for Predator to eclipse the beloved sci-fi show, it needed to pursue bigger (and more entertaining) targets. This, if you know the show’s history (and if you don’t, I won’t spoil), contributed to the show’s ultimate cancellation, as well as to Hansen’s infamy in true crime circles.
Pattinson plays Hansen as a man possessed. His appetite for vice and attention are excused by rationalizations, and enabled by his producer Andie Bender (Merritt Wever), whose job it is to both stoke Hansen’s ego, as well as keep it in check (and not be eclipsed by it in the process). Our third protagonist is Dan Plumb (Skyler Gisondo), a hungry actor who discovers a natural gift at playing the youth who greets the criminal at the door.
Director Lance Oppenheim proves to be a master of image-making, oftentimes using well-worn cinematic language to make Hansen into a Michael Myers-like presence, leering around a corner, peering through a cracked door, and ultimately bursting into his clinically designed killing field with an animalistic swagger, standing over his prey with the assurance of an apex predator. Oppenheim also proves a master of dark comedy. The way characters move in and out of frame often serves as a brutal punchline amidst a sea of truly nasty material. The visual frankness matches the script’s brilliantly conceived dialogue. It’s a cold, clinical film … until it’s not. It’s a darkly playful film … until it’s not.
Even with all the chatter about Pattinson (who, make no mistake, is giving career best work here), it’s Wever and Gisondo who ultimately steal the film. This is not due to gaps in performance (all three should be in conversation for awards), but rather due to the characterizations. Hansen is too driven to experience a full character arc. It isn’t until the film’s final moments that he seems to have any semblance of humanity. But with Wever and Gisondo, their characters are in a constant state of flux. Is “I’m just doing my job” an acceptable rationalization? The film provides no answers to this question, and instead focuses on the characters sussing it out for themselves.
Certain aspects of the script are a bit on the nose, most notably a refrain of “what would’ve happened if I weren’t here?” Yet I cannot treat it as a demerit against the film. “On the nose” is exactly what Hansen was going for in To Catch a Predator, and Primetime seems to utilizing the same frankness that coaxed so many sex offenders to the ground, begging through tears for a second chance.
Directed by Lance Oppenheim
Written by Akon Singh, based on the article by Luke Dittrich
Starring Robert Pattinson, Merrit Wever, Skyler Gisondo, Matthew Maher
Rated R, 110 minutes
