Primetime (2026) Exposes the Complexity of Chris Hansen's Moral Crusade
We live in a film culture where critics ask for complex protagonists but don’t know what to do when they get them. Enter Robert Pattinson as Chris Hansen in Lance Oppenheim’s Primetime. Oppenheim’s film is riveting as it follows the To Catch a Predator host in 2006 when his pedophile-catching show was one of the biggest reality hits on the air. It crafts one of the most interesting protagonists of the year, one who frustrates simplistic character motivations or binary moral readings. In short, he’s a walking contradiction and all the more compelling for it.
Primetime takes place in 2006. Chris Hansen’s To Catch a Predator is doing well as a segment on Dateline NBC, but the higher-ups at the network believe it has the juice to be a big primetime hit. The CEO of NBC Universal (Jeff Zucker playing himself) confesses that he personally dislikes the show, but says that America loves it and you have got to give the people what they want—a lesson that Pattinson’s Chris takes very seriously. So Zucker moves To Catch a Predator to primetime to play against ABC’s Lost, and Chris sees his big opportunity to make his mark on the culture.
Ambition drives Chris in the film, as seen in his fixation with Dateline’s Stone Phillips and his prestigious reporting from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. However, it’s not the only thing that motivates this complicated man. He’s ambitious, yes, but also guilt-ridden and obsessive, perhaps even fanatical. He’s driven by a moral purpose to “cleanse the world of an ancient evil,” as he describes his work to Skylar Gisondo’s “Decoy” Dan Plum, an aspiring actor who plays the teenage victims on the show, helping lure pedophiles to be exposed on television. But this moral purpose also aligns with professional success. The more he exposes pedophiles and gets them arrested, the more rich and famous he becomes. Chris is almost like a believer in the prosperity gospel: he does God’s work and God favours him with worldly rewards.
But Chris himself is not perfect. There’s a subplot in Primetime about Chris’s various extramarital affairs. Early on, he confesses to his wife (Anna Faris) late at night that he hasn’t lived up to her expectations of him as a husband, but that his new airtime for Predator is a chance to make a real difference and prove himself to “be the man she married.” Later, he breaks off an affair with a mistress in Fort Myers, Florida, only to be photographed at the table with her. Turns out the National Enquirer is working on a story about his affairs, and he waits with bated breath for the story to drop and his moral patina to fade.
Primetime never equates Chris’s infidelity with the sexual crimes of the men he’s exposing with his television show, but it does demonstrate that Chris is personally plagued by sexual shortcomings and motivated by a desire to overcome his own demons. We often see Chris rehearsing his lines from his television show, preparing to use the pedophiles’ own words against them in a speech that is part intervention, part sermon. The very first lines in the movie are “I will undress you, and you will undress me.” Chris says them over and over, trying to capture the right cadence for when the eventual pedophile (Tony Revolori) arrives at the staged house and they spring their trap. The rehearsal is not just about getting ready for primetime. It’s also Chris getting into the minds of the perpetrators. He’s aligning with their psychology, understanding them so he can expose them. In essence, he is embodying their sin, linking it to his own, and then using it to purge the world of evil.
Like most moral crusaders, Chris sublimates his guilt into his moral crusade, using his personal guilt as fuel for his work. Does this mean he’s a hypocrite? Yes, but we’re all hypocrites, and exposing hypocrisy is not the point of Primetime. Furthermore, many people are genuinely driven by personal failings to overcome those failings expressed on a societal scale. Just go to therapy or a 12-step program with people trying to get sober and you’ll realize how much guilt can fuel change and motivate people to concrete action against substance abuse or behavioural addictions, for instance. If Chris can save children by getting pedophiles arrested, he can cleanse himself of his own failings, and ultimately overcome his urges, to which he so frequently succumbs.
Primetime is careful not to indict Chris Hansen because of his shortcomings, but rather uses his guilt to illuminate an aspect of his motivations. But his motivation doesn’t end with guilt. No, because while Chris is fuelled by personal shortcomings, he’s also a man on a mission. Late in the film, as Dan becomes hesitant about continuing his role as a decoy, Chris tells him a story about doing work as a correspondent in India in 1996. Children kept disappearing from the village and no one could find them. Eventually, one survivor told them that she searched for the other kids in a cave in the hillside and discovered a monster living there, who had been feeding on the children. The girl gives Chris a bracelet and asks him to continue in his work hunting this monster. Chris continues to wear this bracelet from his visit to India, which he is careful to point out won him an Emmy. The bracelet becomes his totem, a reminder of his moral duty to hunt down that ancient evil, like the one the girl found in the cave, and eliminate it from this world. He gives Dan the bracelet to encourage him to continue his work, but Dan is not a true believer like Chris. Chris does think he’s on a mission that’s about more than himself. He’s going to cleanse the world.
Perhaps the film’s key thematic conversation takes place on an airplane early in the film (there’s a snippet featured in the promotional trailers, indicating its importance to the marketing team as well). Chris is sleeping in first class and the stranger sitting next to him wakes him and asks him if he’s Chris Hansen from To Catch a Predator. He tells him that he is and the man praises Chris for his work. The man ends by telling Chris that he would kill the pedophiles he exposes if he were in his position, asking Chris, “Don't you ever just want to...bleed 'em?”. Chris pauses and then tells the man, “Well, I think maybe what I do is a little worse,” and then laughs.
It’s a clever line, but by no means a deflection on Chris’s part. He believes he’s fulfilling a social function. In another conversation with Dan, Chris mentions that in the past, there used to be a post in every town square where the townspeople would tie moral transgressors and shame them. He bemoans that modern cities don’t have this post anymore. So Chris creates To Catch a Predator, which serves the same purpose for public shaming. In ancient Rome, prior to the ascension of the Emperor Augustus, the public censor had the role of being the arbiter of public morality. In essence, Chris sees himself as a censor for the modern age. And much like the censors of Roman antiquity, Chris Hansen uses his office for fame and fortune in addition to moral direction. In the 21st century, we only allow censors so long as they’re also entertainers; the moral scolding is a blast so long as it’s directed at people other than ourselves.
Chris is unquestionably driven by a moral awareness. It’s just that his character motivations are not one-dimensional. He’s also ambitious and egotistical. Compare Primetime’s depiction of Chris Hansen to another movie about a real life moral crusader: Sound of Freedom’s Tim Ballard, played by Jim Caviezel. Both films are very different in tone and form, but they are both portraits of moral crusaders working to purge society of pedophiles. Sound of Freedom is a more sober film, both formally and tonally. Its portrait of Tim Ballard depicts him as a man fuelled by the trauma of his work for Homeland Security and his devout Mormon faith. The film’s Tim Ballard has pure motivations, through and through, even if the real Tim Ballard is a much more complicated individual.
Primetime offers the sort of nuance in its characterization that movies like Sound of Freedom lack. It takes a nuanced approach to Chris Hansen. He’s driven by altruistic motivations, but also selfish ones. Ultimately, it’s because Oppenheim’s film understands that Chris Hansen’s righteous project airs on NBC at 9pm, while a project like Tim Ballard’s is done in the shadows. Chris Hansen’s righteous quest is also entertainment for the masses—its morality is unquestionably muddled. Unthinkingly supporting his quest overlooks the moral grey areas of his approach, but dismissing the portrait of Chris Hansen as mere villainous caricature overlooks all the nuanced and admirable motivations that inform much of his work. So Primetime offers us both versions to show a fuller portrait of this man driven by ambition, righteousness, and a fanatical devotion to his cause.
During the pivotal conversation with the stranger on the airplane, Chris Hansen mentions that when working in television, you can’t just do something, you also have to sell something. So he cannot just do something righteous in the world—he also has to sell this righteousness by playing to people’s base impulses. He believes that only by making entertainment can he make change, just as only a man haunted by his own failings can overcome them for others. In our world, all morality, all reality, even, is ultimately a spectacle to be commodified.
Primetime cleverly shows the duality of this approach, both in its depiction of To Catch a Predator as a show but also Chris Hansen as a man. Oppenheim and Pattinson do not make him a monster, but neither do they worship him. Primetime is neither exposé nor hagiography. Rather, it’s a complicated portrait of a man driven by both noble and ignoble motivations in his quest against an ancient evil. But it’s a quest we all get to watch, a sensational crusade broadcast across the world. On television, Chris Hansen finds both his salvation, and his infamy.
Primetime (2026, USA)
Directed by Lance Oppenheim; written by Ajon Singh, based on “Tonight on Dateline This Man Will Die” by Luke Dittrich; starring Robert Pattinson, Merritt Wever, Skyler Gisondo, Matthew Maher, Anna Faris, Bokeem Woodbine, Alex Winter, Phoebe Bridgers, Tony Revolori.
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