“While my life might be challenging, at least I’m not famous on TV.”
This sentiment captures some of the widespread fascination with “To Catch a Predator”, as discussed by a participant in “Predators,” a fresh documentary revisiting the mid-2000s phenomenon. The film, which has recently began screening in theaters across the country following its premiere in New York and Los Angeles, provides a comprehensive and unsettling retrospective of the “NBC Dateline” segment that transformed real-life pedophile sting operations into a compelling reality show.
The formula of “To Catch a Predator” was straightforward. Each episode featured an actor posing as a minor, luring suspected child predators into an in-person meeting. Once they arrived, journalist Chris Hansen and his crew would confront the individuals, leading to an interrogation and subsequent arrest by police. Though the series was short-lived, running for only three years, its intricate blend of vigilante drama with a touch of “Punk’d”-like humor, all presented by the charismatic Hansen, struck a chord with viewers and created devoted followers.
Filmmaker David Osit had distanced himself from “To Catch a Predator” until he encountered unedited interrogation footage: unvarnished and lengthy recordings that laid bare the disturbing reality faced by these individuals upon being confronted. In contrast to the slick editing style of “Dateline,” these raw visuals reminded Osit of the techniques used by slow cinema innovators like Hou Hsiao-Hsien, showcasing a deep emotional complexity often absent from typical true crime narratives. This revelation led to the concept of Osit’s documentary.
“What if I create a film that examines how programs like ‘To Catch a Predator’ shape our perceptions of good and evil by their very nature?” he shared during a Zoom discussion with Variety. “We all seek simple moral tales, which are easily marketable and digestible. They don’t challenge us.”
The initial segment of “Predators” delves into the behind-the-scenes workings of “To Catch a Predator,” featuring insights from the show’s former actors, who discuss their involvement in portraying pedophilic scenarios. The documentary unpacks the ethical dilemmas surrounding the production of true crime content, an increasingly dominant genre within nonfiction storytelling. For Osit, who has experience editing true crime projects, this topic is particularly personal, reflecting a common reality for contemporary documentary filmmakers.
“In true crime, there is minimal questioning of moral dichotomies. Instead, law enforcement is often depicted as the ultimate moral authority. The deviants get caught, and the bad elements disappear. You’re validated as a good person simply by watching the series. It’s dull to me,” Osit remarked. “My concerns also apply to some left-leaning documentaries. They fail to push us to critically evaluate our viewpoints. We enter with anger and exit even angrier, confirming our biases and moving deeper into our echo chambers.”
MTV Documentary Films
As “Predators” progresses, it expands to reveal an entire ecosystem of “To Catch a Predator”-inspired figures conducting their own vigilante stings. A particularly unusual sequence features a ride-along with Skeeter Jean, a self-proclaimed “Chris Hansen tribute act” who has gained a substantial following on YouTube, imitating the Dateline style. Chris Hansen himself looms over “Predators” as a god-like figure—discussed in whispers and ultimately scrutinized for his authenticity.
While “Predators” continues its theatrical run, Osit is particularly eager for it to transition to streaming platforms, where unsuspecting viewers seeking true crime entertainment may be taken aback by the documentary’s deeper insights.
“That’s exactly my intention for the film. I hope audiences come in thinking it’s about ‘To Catch a Predator’ and that the deeper layers surprise them,” Osit expressed. “How fascinating is that? Creating an unexpected experience in this age of algorithm-driven viewing habits?”
From the very beginning, this documentary candidly addresses the allure of “To Catch a Predator”, even as it critically examines it. How crucial was it to maintain the show’s captivating nature in your film?
I needed to incorporate that aspect into the film. Some might interpret this documentary as a critique of the audience, but the first person I’m critiquing is myself: the filmmaker. I couldn’t challenge the audience to reflect on their own engagement with true crime unless I also considered the ethical implications of making this film. Are the predator hunters and I that different? I’m not entirely sure. Both of us are motivated to craft compelling stories to attract viewers. This documentary often operates in a similar fashion to “To Catch a Predator”. If you find fault with one, how do you delineate where that criticism ends with the other?
MTV Documentary Films
You become somewhat of a focus as the documentary progresses, appearing on camera more frequently. This begins with a ride-along you undertake with Skeeter Jean as he confronts an alleged predator. Did that experience differ from your expectations?
I hadn’t given it much thought until I found myself in the situation, feeling uneasy about my presence. From the perspective of the alleged predators, they’d notice Skeet’s crew and mine, realizing we’re all engaging in similar tactics. I was part of something I was unsure I agreed with. There’s a moment that emerges in every documentary—the request from my team for permission to use someone’s likeness—but here, it felt particularly loaded. During that experience, I was trying to separate myself from Skeet, yet the distinctions weren’t stark. That’s when I recognized I needed to include myself in the film; to genuinely address audience complicity, I had to reflect on my own role.
Most of your interview subjects are linked to the series, save for the ethnographer Mark de Rond, who offers commentary based on the unseen footage. When did you decide to include that academic perspective in the documentary?
He had embedded himself with predator hunting groups in the UK and was writing a book on the topic. He shared similar moral concerns regarding his work as I did about filming. Early on, I began to see him as a voice in the film, representing the filmmaker’s position before I myself found my voice. His European background adds an outsider’s lens on America. It creates a sense of neutrality, as if aliens are observing us, filled with curiosity yet without judgment.
Did you encounter any challenges in securing interviews?
No. I suspect some individuals might have been hesitant, but considering it occurred 20 years ago, the elapsed time helped. Many were grateful that I was transparent about my interests and reciprocated with openness.
As you describe the documentary as a self-examination, did you derive any personal insights from creating this film?
It allowed me to better connect with anxieties about my profession that I had never fully expressed—such as how effective some films that claim to raise awareness really are. I’ve always appreciated Ken Loach’s observation that “a film, at best, can only add its voice to public outrage.” A film cannot initiate a movement but can ignite anger that leads one to engage in a cause. However, that anger can also lead to introspection. I aimed, if possible, to create a film that evaded both extremes—leaving audiences with provocative thoughts and challenges, pulling them away from conventional viewing habits.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
