When I sat down to record this video, I knew I was wading into murky waters. The title itself—"What are we even doing here guys?! 😩"—captures the exasperation I felt while processing a film that left me genuinely unsettled. In this essay, I want to unpack what I was trying to argue, how I built the case, where I anticipated pushback, and why I think this conversation matters far beyond one documentary.
My core argument was simple, even if the subject matter wasn't: a new film—apparently produced with A24's involvement and directed by Lance Oppenheim—takes aim at Chris Hansen and the "To Catch a Predator" format, and in doing so, it may be normalizing or minimizing child predation by framing the man who confronted predators as the true villain. I opened the video with what I called possibly "the strangest film ever made," and I meant it. The premise sounds insane when stated plainly: a documentary that makes you sympathize with people caught in sting operations, while casting the journalist who exposed them as the problem.
But I went further. I asked, deliberately provocatively, whether this film could function as a distraction—or even retaliation—against efforts to expose the unethical conduct of elites, particularly a certain ally in the Middle East with, as I put it, a questionable moral character and enormous influence over American politics and popular culture. I don't raise that question lightly, and I want to explain why I raised it at all.
The evidence I marshaled falls into a few categories.
First, the film's own framing. The clips show Hansen's dramatic confrontations—his signature entrance, the reveal that he's from Dateline NBC, the suspects' stunned reactions—recontextualized in a way that invites the audience to pity the caught rather than the potential victims. One suspect even says he won't answer questions until he speaks to a lawyer, and the film plays this for sympathy rather than gravity.
Second, the industry context. I pointed out that Hollywood itself was, for decades, "an industry led by one of the most prolific predators on the face of the earth, Harvey Weinstein." That's not speculation; that's documented history. So when a Hollywood-adjacent production asks us to rethink who the real predators are, I think skepticism is warranted. As I said in the video: "So, what do you expect from it?"
Third, the broader institutional failure. I noted that nobody has been investigated—let alone arrested—in connection with the Epstein files, that predators are "running loose and fleeing to Israel left and right," and that we have a government doing little to protect Americans from these networks. I even referenced the security arrangement involving Netanyahu to underscore how entangled these questions of power and accountability have become.
I structured the video as a descent from the absurd to the alarming. I started with the film itself—the "what are we even doing here" reaction, the visceral confusion. Then I established what "To Catch a Predator" was and did, conceding upfront that it was sensationalized television. From there, I introduced the uncomfortable question: why does this film exist, and why now? That opened the door to the geopolitical speculation, which I framed explicitly as a question, not a claim. Finally, I landed on my personal conclusion: the film's message, at this moment in history, is "a bit strange, and maybe evil. But then again, it's Hollywood."
That progression mattered to me. I didn't want to lead with the conspiracy-adjacent framing because I think it's more honest—and more persuasive—to start with what's on screen and let the suspicion build from documented patterns.
I tried to be my own devil's advocate throughout. I acknowledged that Hansen is "100% sure" not a saint—the show was entertainment built on humiliation, and there are legitimate critiques of sting journalism, entrapment concerns, and the ethics of profiting from these confrontations. I also explicitly refused to defend Lance Oppenheim's or A24's intentions as malicious: I said I don't know whether "normalizing child predation by making Chris Hansen the villain" was actually anyone's goal. That's an important distinction. I was analyzing the effect of the film's message, not asserting a proven motive.
I also anticipated the rebuttal that questioning the film is itself silly—that "the idea that you're worse than some of these child predators filmed in the movie is a ridiculous idea." I agreed with that rebuttal, actually. That's precisely why the film's framing bothered me so much.
Here's what I keep coming back to: timing and context shape meaning. A documentary critiquing sting operations might be a worthy project in a vacuum. But released now—when the Epstein files sit uninvestigated, when accused predators escape prosecution, when public trust in institutions that should protect children is at rock bottom—a film that redirects moral energy toward the guy who caught predators on camera sends, at minimum, a strange signal. At worst, it functions as cover.
The deeper implication is about who gets to be the villain in our cultural narratives. When a corrupt and compromised media-entertainment complex decides to rehabilitate the image of predation by attacking its most famous public opponent, we should ask cui bono. Hollywood has never been a neutral actor, and its track record on this exact issue is abysmal.
I ended the video somewhat resignedly: the message is strange, maybe evil, "but then again, it's Hollywood." That resignation isn't acceptance—it's a challenge to you, the viewer. Don't let a slick documentary decide for you who deserves your sympathy. Hold two things in your head at once: legitimate criticism of how we punish and publicize crime, and the non-negotiable reality that child predation is evil and its enablers, wherever they sit—in Hollywood, in government, among our "allies"—should face accountability, not sympathetic filmmaking.
So I'll leave you with the question that gave this video its title: what are we even doing here, guys? If we're spending our cultural energy making predators the underdogs while the powerful who protected them walk free, then we've lost the plot entirely. I'd love to hear what you think—disagree with me in the comments, but engage with the substance. That's the only way any of us figure out what we're actually doing here.