It’s 9 p.m. on a Wednesday. Are you aware of your children’s whereabouts?

If you happen to be the dramatized version of To Catch a Predator host Chris Hansen as depicted by Robert Pattinson in A24’s Primetime, you likely believe you do — at least, you’ve convinced your network that you understand where everyone else is located.

Hansen explains this, drink in hand, to a fellow passenger: it’s the reason his show received a green light initially. According to him, children aren’t wandering the streets or falling into wells. Instead, they’re isolated in their bedrooms. Yet outside, Hansen claims, there stands a man on the porch, exposed and ready to intrude upon that safe space. In a shockingly crude portrayal, which we won’t fully detail here, he suggests this man is about to invade that bedroom.

However, if viewers tune into To Catch a Predator this evening on NBC, Hansen offers to reveal how they can prevent such situations.

The significance of the guidance he presents becomes clear to anyone familiar with the events of that 2004 series. The Dateline episodes featured Hansen emerging from closets and bedrooms to confront suspected child predators whom his team had lured — a scenario that notoriously resulted in failed prosecutions, dangerous imitators and at least one fatality.

However, Primetime is far from a straightforward critique. The film, which explores this tumultuous history, unfolds as a whirlwind of absurdity and eccentricity. It presents a chaotic, spiraling dark comedy that is both unsettling and, given that it’s produced by The Strange Thing About the Johnsons’ Ari Aster, not surprising in its combination of casual humor and deeply disturbing horror.

In one moment, we witness Tony Revolori (Spider-Man: Homecoming) making exaggerated, intentionally absurd expressions at the camera alongside visuals of dismembered children’s bodies discarded in an unknown jungle. We also see Pattinson’s Hansen bizarrely spitting mouthwash into a sink — all while adopting a pose that resembles less of a journalist and more of an aggressive goose.

Later, we find this goose-like figure pursuing an actual monster, representing the evil supposedly lurking beyond societal norms. Yet, as he continues to search for this external malevolence and gazes into the face of wickedness, we, in turn, look back into his.

Pattinson delivers a striking performance with an unreserved commitment to his character, showcasing an apparent lack of embarrassment that empowers him to immerse himself in accents, impersonations, and general absurdity.

Here, he presents a campy, exaggerated version of Chris Hansen: one who drawls “Why don’t you take a seat” with a gravelly seriousness that, if portrayed by anyone else, would come across as ludicrous.

The chaotic and absurd portrayal of Chris Hansen in Primetime reveals something new and unusual about the To Catch a Predator host. (Elevation Pictures)

As director Lance Oppenheim and writer Ajon Singh suggest, all of these over-the-top traits aim to unveil a profound decay at the core of the real individual. Based on the scathing article “Tonight on Dateline This Man Will Die,” which details a shocking result from one of his stings, Primetime does not exactly celebrate Hansen’s Dateline series. The screenplay reflects criticisms — and even court decisions — against the subsequent “Creep Catcher” groups that would imitateTo Catch a Predator‘s methodology, delivering clear and strong denunciations.

This context clarifies why the genuine Chris Hansen hasn’t exactly embraced the project.

Instead, he claims to have purchased his own advertisements prior to the film’s release, asserting that the narrative viewers are about to witness is entirely fabricated. Similar to how the Church of Latter-day Saints did in the Playbill for The Book of Mormon, he’s directing audiences to his own collection of content where, he asserts, the authentic story resides.

He has since established a true-crime streaming service that continues to produce content surrounding sexual offenses, featuring a continuous stream of new programs that follow the format of, and exploit the public’s insatiable desire for, the public-shaming vigilantism exemplified by To Catch a Predator.

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The critical perspective of Primetime‘s distorted reflection is evident. Rather than granting Predator‘s seemingly noble goals even a slight acknowledgment, Oppenheim’s rhetorical focus is on dissecting Hansen’s perceived self-interest while unapologetically humanizing his targets.

Throughout Hansen’s encounters with a frazzled and desperate producer (Merritt Wever), a visibly traumatized and exploited “decoy” actor used for baiting these accused offenders (Skyler Gisondo), and the empathetic portrayals of the subjects themselves, Primetime‘s message is unmistakable.

The glassy-eyed, preening, and frantic Hansen does not operate Predator as a noble mission, the film asserts. He does not coerce local law enforcement into circumventing laws regarding search and seizure, awaken his young sons in the dead of night to witness his latest capture, or glare resentfully at NBC reporter Stone Phillips covering “real” news because he perceives it as a selfless obligation.

In the view of Primetime, he pursues this path simply because he desires to be in the spotlight.

Robert Pattinson, right, is featured alongside actor Tony Revolori in a scene from Primetime. (Elevation Pictures)

That alone would not suffice. The notion that respectability first vanished from the airwaves is painfully evident; it wasn’t sufficient to support the sci-fi critique of capitalism The Running Man last year, and it cannot sustain the Rupert Murdoch/Larry Lamb biopic Ink that screened at this year’s TIFF.

Moreover, it does not suffice to merely recognize the existential dread surrounding stranger danger that has influenced political campaigns and platforms over the last five decades. From the genuinely poignant, loosely inspired adaptation of the six-year-old Etan Patz’s disappearance in Without a Trace to the grossly exploitative child-trafficking film Sound of Freedom, the overwhelming fear regarding children’s vulnerability undoubtedly drives us.

What Primetime probes is more probing and disconcerting. It raises a question not necessarily about self-deception, but about how a lack of compassion appears to be justified, even encouraged, when addressing Hansen’s targets.

This theme is echoed by the same airplane companion, who queries Hansen if he ever contemplates bypassing the legal system and simply “bleeding” the men he apprehends.

Hansen contemplates this proposition and then suggests that perhaps what he is doing is even more detrimental. Then, he smiles.