In Review: ‘Primetime,’ ‘Heart of the Beast’

Primetime
Dir. Lance Oppenheim
110 min.

From 2004 to 2007, the reality TV series To Catch a Predator aired as part of Dateline NBC, which had started as the network’s flagship newsmagazine—its 60 Minutes, more or less (mostly less)—before devolving into a multi-night affair with an emphasis on true crime. The show’s host, Chris Hansen, used Dateline’s patina of respectability to offer himself as a journalist who was doing the important work of stopping potential child sex offenders before they could strike. Yet the reality-TV machinations of To Catch a Predator, all detailed brilliantly in last year’s superb documentary Predators, were deceptive and sleazy, resulting in arrests that were legally problematic and ethically compromised. Within the narrow frame of the show, Hansen could present himself as the dashing hero of his own sobering segment of Candid Camera, confronting sweaty men with catchphrases like “You know how this looks, right?” or “What are you doing here?” But what, exactly, was Hansen doing there? Who anointed him a moral authority? 

These are a couple of the questions that underpin Primetime, director Lance Oppenheim’s strange, audacious, and formally arresting debut feature about Hansen and the toxic television environment he represents. Where the documentary Predators examined the legacy of the show and how it went about confronting a social ill for entertainment, Primetime takes these network sins as a given and heightens the atmosphere to a stylized frenzy that’s more in the realm of horror, with a generous pinch of black comedy. People who have spent extended time in front of a television camera are like New Yorkers in that they can never imagine leaving it, but there are levels to that pathology and Oppenheim and his star, Robert Pattinson, have turned Hansen into a monster along the lines of Christian Bale in American Psycho, with perfect complexion and a disturbing appetite. 

Shooting in a grainy, hyper-saturated 4:3 format, Oppenheim opens Primetime in 2006, the peak of To Catch a Predator’s run, when NBC tried to turn its breakout hit into a cheap competitor to Lost and other scripted juggernauts. The opportunity excites Hansen, who seeks legitimacy and awards recognition for his work, and others down the line hope to benefit, too, including his producer Andie (Merritt Wever) and a new “decoy” named Dan (Skyler Gisondo), who wants to parlay the gig into a SAG union card. The basic formula for the show involves the staff presenting themselves as children to potential predators in online chats, then having decoys like Dan, with his freckle-faced looks and squeaky voice, to bait these men into a house where Hansen, the local police and myriad cameras await. As the ratings flounder, Hansen pushes for Andie to set up a risky operation in Murphy, Texas, where they’ve been getting nibbles from a significant public figure (Alex Winter) who could attract major news attention—and, in kind, the audience and awards that Hansen craves. 

The lead-up to the Texas sting operation—a shameful tragedy that basically ended the show—is a pressure-cooker that intensifies with the calls Hansen is getting from a tabloid reporter who’s caught him stepping out with a much younger woman who’s not his wife. The potential damage to his marriage, though, seems minor compared to the hit it might take on his finely coiffed reputation, which itself is maintained by Andie and others making sure no one knows that he’s a creepy weirdo. Oppenheim and Pattinson make a meal out of Hansen’s intense and off-putting behavior, whether he’s telling an origin story that looks like a scene from Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives or obsessing over Stone Phillips as if he were Walter Cronkite or the raised lettering on a rival’s business card. 

In sharp contrast to Predators, which adds more layers and insight as the documentary goes deeper into journalistic ethics and personal trauma, Primetime has a visceral punch that can feel restrictive at times, like Oppenheim and Pattinson are too committed to the same bit. Yet whenever it threatens to get repetitive, the film is rescued by Wever’s turn as a shrewd, careerist producer and especially Gisondo’s heartbreaking performance as a young actor who’s improvising a role against unsettling creatures on both sides of the camera. To Catch a Predator is the place where “decoy Dan” gets his start, but his experience with it will never end. — Scott Tobias  

Primetime opens in bait-houses everywhere tonight.

Heart of the Beast
Dir. David Ayer
101 min.

Whatever he used to be, James Belmont (Brad Pitt) has become a man who wants to be alone. Well, not exactly alone. James is happiest spending time with Odin, the military working dog he served beside as a Green Beret fighting in the Middle East. As Heart of the Beast opens, James and Odin have taken a small plane to a remote spot somewhere in the middle of the Alaska wilderness to camp, hunt, fish, and spend time together. Both bear the scars of war, literal and otherwise, though Odin’s are more conspicuous than his companion’s, thanks to his titanium teeth, prosthetic leg, and violent nightmares James attributes to PTSD. But it’s clear that both man and dog have endured experiences that have left them wary of human company. When they encounter a retired prospector (J.K. Simmons) in the woods, it takes a few tense minutes before they recognize he’s a harmless kindred spirit and not a threat.

Simmons’ character disappears after a few early scenes, allowing the rest of Heart of the Beast, directed by David Ayer from a script by Cameron Alexander, to focus solely on James and Odin, whose outing soon takes a dark turn. While flying to a new location to avoid foul weather, James has a mid-air heart attack that leads to a crash from which James barely escapes and Odin emerges in seemingly dire shape. Both recover—Odin’s more rattled than hurt, but it’s not the last time the two will face peril on the 50+ mile journey back to civilization. In fact, there’s not much to Ayer’s film beyond a series of increasingly perilous situations that illustrate the connection between these two damaged characters.

That’s not really a problem, though. Ayer continually emphasizes both the beauty of the wilderness in which James and Odin find themselves and how easily it might swallow them up, especially as both supplies and equipment dwindle. At the outset they have a tent, rations, and a bottle of aspirin James chews like Tic Tacs to ease his symptoms, but the journey keeps stripping such luxuries away. The film creates an atmosphere of constant fanger that James and Odin are only able to navigate because of the fire-forged bond between them. It’s gripping and moving without tugging on the heartstrings too insistently and features an all-timer of a canine performance. Odin, played by a real-life search-and-rescue dog named Uber, is as soulful as he is heroic. In situations when relying on his companion’s commands become a matter of life and death, you can almost see the wheels turning in his head as his training struggles against his instincts. But if Heart of the Beast had any ambitions beyond being an adventure film that makes occasional nods to the sacrifices asked of those in the military, they didn’t make it into the final film. Once Simmons vanishes, we only see James as he relates to Odin and, as good as Pitt and the dog are together, there’s a limit to how much short, desaturated flashbacks to battle scenes can reveal about a character. Still, there’s nothing wrong with a simple man-and-dog story and we’re not exactly swimming in them these days, which makes Heart of the Beast feel at once old-fashioned and refreshing, even if there’s a nagging sense that a little more storytelling ambition would have made the journey more memorable. —Keith Phipps

Scheduling conflicts prevented us from seeing the new Dreamworks animated film Forgotten Island by deadline, but check back tomorrow for a review.