Are the titular predators of David Osit’s incisive documentary the pedophiles entrapped and exposed on camera in the sordid reality series To Catch a Predator? Or are the predators also suave, self-righteous TV host Chris Hansen and his producers, who feed the publics desire for sensationalism and vigilantism? Are the predators ultimately the viewers who enjoy seeing the cornered protagonists crumble? Some of the men caught on camera in the staged scenario cry or beg, others make futile attempts to escape. For those unfamiliar with the show which ran from 2004 to 2007, its premise was to catch pedophiles in the act by having adults pose as minors aged around 12 or 13. The men approached the decoy actors online and persuaded them to meet for sex.
When they encountered their supposed victims at a sting house rigged with hidden cameras, Hansen would step in. Original TV footage shows him confronting the perplexed men, most of whom would be arrested afterwards. He asked them in his calm voice why they did what they did. It was this moment of confrontation for which most viewers would tune in. One of these regular viewers was Osit. He had himself experienced sexual violence at a young age and watched the show because he hoped for answers. Instead, he ended up with more questions. Now the director asks Hansen these questions in a setting conspicuously similar to that of the series. Only Hansen sits in a bright loft instead of a fake living room, and he doesn’t crumble.
Rather than denying the show’s ethical ambiguity, he uses the same argument he used since it first aired 20 years ago. By exposing pedophiles, the show would contribute to public safety and seeing the perverts break down in front of the camera, could help survivors. Osit’s appears to confirm this sentiment by admitting he watched to see the sex offenders confronted. A confrontation some couldn’t bear. One particular TV sting operation ended with the culprit shooting himself, with the cameras running. Another publicly exposed an offender who was just 18 years old. But isn’t Hansen right when he argues that the culprits young age doesn’t change anything? Seeing the teenager’s mother who chose to remain anonymous paint her son as the actual victim, despite his deeds, is deeply disturbing.
Equally disturbing is Hansen’s use of survivors of sexual violence to play the decoy. Contrary to his claims to intend to empower survivors, he appears to have no qualms to exploit their trauma. It adds to the shows sordid appeal by creating a meta-level reality. Though no sexual acts happen, audiences see an actual offender engage with an actual victim, followed by an actual arrest. The whole experience is much more visceral, much closer to life than any of today’s true crime content. Osit doesn’t draw a line from the sensationalist reality series to today’s real-crime entertainment. Nevertheless, the connection is obvious. His dissection of the media obsession with deranged crimes and salacious cases holds the constant danger of going down the same path of vengefulness and calculated spectacle.
With emotional constraint and transparency, the director avoids this trap. The thought-provoking examination exposes Hansen’s tactics as inefficient, even self-defeating both on a legal and moral level. Since the concept of To Catch a Predator disregards entrapment laws, it effectively obstructed legal prosecution. The series revoked the trauma of survivors of sexual violence to get them hooked, or in the cases of some of the decoy actors, to increase its realist appeal. This appeal is uncomfortably palpable in the excerpts. They are revealed as the modern equivalent to a pillory: its purpose is not to prevent crime, but to present human dignity as forfeitable, to direct public anger to an easy target and ultimately to provide entertainment – the very last thing sexual crimes should do.
A cynical footnote is the name of the civilian volunteer group with whom the NBC series worked together to spot the pedophiles and online groomers: “Perverted Justice”. There could hardly be a more fitting name for the hypocritical spectacle the series provided and the false ideal of moral uprightness it encouraged.
Predators just premiered at Sundance 2025.