Sundance Review: “Predators”
Written by: Hannah Tran | February 2nd, 2025

Predators (David Osit, 2025) 4 out of 5 stars
The notion that a film has no idea where it’s going would typically be seen as a criticism. In the case of David Osit’s Predators, it becomes the documentary’s cardinal virtue. Osit (Mayor) dives into the rise, fall, and eventual fallout of To Catch a Predator, Dateline NBC’s hidden-camera series from the mid-2000s. TCAP, as it’s known by its devoted cult following—both from its original broadcast and its new wave of online fans—followed a television crew as they set up sting operations to uncover sexual predators in towns across America. While this blend of news and entertainment had detractors in its time, much of the backlash was overlooked because the mission of exposing these men seemed to negate any ethical boundary being crossed. But now, with two decades that have seen the evolution of the true-crime genre, the internet, and sensationalism in media, Osit revisits the show and navigates its ultimate legacy.
Predators opens with the simplest and most striking possible beginning: an uninterrupted excerpt from the show. The format was almost always the same. The crew would scout for predators by posing as minors online, and then a young-looking actor known as a “decoy” would invite the men (only men were ever featured) to meet in person. After arriving, they were confronted by the charming host, Chris Hansen, who would question the men before telling them they were “free to go,” although most were met with an action-packed arrest outside.
Even now, this setup is unbelievably captivating. There are the same immediate feelings of disgust, outrage, and fear that these episodes brought to light 20 years ago. But it also goes beyond that. As vocalized in the documentary, there’s this distinct feeling that you are seeing “the end” of these men’s lives. The concept of schadenfreude here feels justified because we believe these men deserve it. And they often do. However, Osit, who reveals that he himself was a victim of a child predator, forces the viewer to sit with unseen footage from the show that displays moments of humanity and remorse from the perpetrators. Osit is not making the argument that these men should be forgiven, he is asking the viewer to understand that there’s more complexity in certain cases than depicted in the show and acknowledge the discomfort that comes when we feel empathy for those who we don’t feel deserve it.

Osit reveals his primary purpose for making the documentary, which is getting an answer to a question Hansen often poses on the show: why would these men do this? To figure this out, Osit poses many thoughtful and challenging questions of his own. From a moving exchange with an ethnographer, a cathartic interview with a decoy, and an unflinching conversation with Hansen himself, comes meaningful and occasionally disappointing interviews from which the viewer is asked to draw their own conclusions.
As the documentary evolves, Osit covers copycats and the late career of Chris Hansen. The focus of these sections feels oddly narrow in scope, but both of them bring up important ideas about media bias, the problem with casting police in the simplistic trope of “good guys,” and how streamers today will manipulate their audience and basic ethical boundaries in pursuit of clicks. The documentary navigates these layers with elegance and weight, and its self-awareness in reference to the TCAP formula makes an ending that is as riveting as its namesake but for different, more nuanced reasons.
Although the description that this documentary has “no idea” where it’s going may not give enough credit to the level of purpose embedded in its approach, what works so well about Predators is that it feels as though it’s sincerely searching for answers without a hypothesis as to what they might be. Whenever Osit senses himself drawing a conclusion, he isn’t afraid to interrogate his motives for doing so. And although everyone in this scenario is ultimately free to go, this documentary’s quest for answers remains a lingering force on its subjects, its filmmaker, and its audience.