For anyone who treated To Catch a Predator like appointment television, watching Primetime is a surreal experience. Documentarian Lance Oppenheim (Some Kind of Heaven) makes his narrative feature debut with this disquieting docudrama, and those buying a ticket should not anticipate an incisive, thought-provoking biopic of journalist Chris Hansen or of the zeitgeist news program he was the steely host of. This is not that film.

What Oppenheim’s stunningly well-made and magnificently acted opus does do will likely leave as many viewers puzzled as stunned and stewing in silent horror. This is a glossy, surface-level examination of the birth of tabloid “infotainment,” a reality television scourge that has only grown more pervasive, and even less authentic, over the past two decades. Oppenheim creates a veneer of psychedelic, psychotronic venality that’s as distasteful as it is fascinating. This is the type of movie after which you’ll want to take an immediate shower.

The blown-out colors, the pixelated, hi-def digital images are all designed to leave audiences on the edge of discombobulation, trying to determine what they’ve spent 110 minutes witnessing in the darkness. This grainy assault on the senses — director of photography David Bolen (Thelma) and editor Daniel Garber (How to Blow Up a Pipeline) each deserve a standing ovation — does not seem to care if its questions receive closure. It’s the asking that seems to excite Oppenheim, and like a gotcha journalist who cares more about the shock value of these queries than anything else, the unspoken answers still linger in the ether like a forgotten afterthought, never to be resolved.

But unlike last year’s superb documentary Predators, about To Catch a Predator, its importance, and its sordid unintended legacy, there is no deeper insight lurking beneath the surface of Primetime that helps one understand why the program changed infotainment forever. Oppenheim’s drama is more about sensation — and sensationalism — than anything consequential. It’s hard to say if this is due to the director’s insistence on creating an atmosphere of distrust and subterfuge or a by-product of Ajon Singh’s screenplay. Either way, there’s precious little underneath the hood other than dazzling performances and an omnipresent sensation of impending doom, and I found that frustrating.

Is this a case of style over substance? Potentially, but I need more time (and probably another viewing or two) to decide what my feelings are on that front. What I am certain of is that there will be few other features in 2026 that will contain three performances as hypnotically masterful as the ones turned in by stars Robert Pattinson, Merritt Wever, and Skyler Gisondo. All are spectacular.

Wever portrays Andie Bender, the fearless and intelligent producer of To Catch a Predator, and when NBC gives the show a coveted time slot against the ABC juggernaut Lost, she’s determined to do whatever is necessary for her news program to be victorious in the ratings. Gisondo is Dan Plumb, a twenty-something actor employed as a 13-year-old-looking “decoy” used to help capture the child predators the show is designed to expose. Both actors give alive, emotionally lithe performances that mine internalized depths the script frustratingly only hints at. It’s the best work of both of their careers.

Then there is Pattinson. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. This is a confident, dangerously anxious portrait of psychological dexterity that’s chock-full of constant, invigorating surprise. Pattinson doesn’t so much try to copy Chris Hansen’s familiar mannerisms and vocal inflections as take them to an eccentrically frenzied plateau that’s borderline dizzying. The actor is a metaphorical Icarus, and he’s flying so close to the sun that the only mystery is when he’s going to get burned, not if. If any movie deserves to be seen specifically for an all-time great performance, this one fits the bill.

Because Pattinson, Wever, and Gisondo are so outstanding (as is the support they get from Phoebe Bridgers, Matthew Maher, Tony Revolori, Bokeem Woodbine, Anna Faris, and an unrecognizable Alex Winter), I’m understandably annoyed that the movie doesn’t dig deeper than it does. But the filmmaking is exceptional, and, as mentioned, those performances are exhilarating. Couple that with the overwhelming sensation of dread that permeates every digitally augmented fiber of this thriller’s DNA, and there’s simply no way this peculiar, one-of-a-kind motion picture can be casually dismissed.

To paraphrase Hansen himself, so why not take a seat right over there? Even with all my misgivings, I’m glad I did; the uncomfortable shudders I had are not about to vanish anytime soon.