In the opening scene of “Primetime,” our protagonist antihero, Chris Hansen (Robert Pattinson), recites his lines, the transcript of a stomach-churning online chat, over and over, in a kind of whispered mantra. He preens in the mirror, preparing for his entrance, before bursting out onto a small interior balcony in an anonymous rented mansion with a dramatic flair, brandishing the damning dossier, looking pleased with himself. He moves slowly, with feline grace, toward his cowering, pathetic target (Tony Revolori), who at one point crouches down and covers his face. Indeed, director Lance Oppenheim has caught himself a predator, but it’s not the man on the floor.

To make the argument that the producers behind the reality show “To Catch a Predator” — a hit in the wild west TV landscape of the early 2000s — were the predators themselves, trapping individuals in a hidden camera court of public opinion, is too easy, too facile an argument to make. Ergo, this is the point at which we start, before this tawdry televisual arms race implodes, fueled by ruthless ambition and a bloodthirsty viewing audience. On an airplane, Chris meets a fan who asks him, “don’t you just want to bleed them?” If it bleeds, it leads, as they say in the news world.

If you’re not familiar with “To Catch a Predator,” “Primetime” lays out the format and tropes in a rapid-fire sequence: hidden cameras, men arriving at a house hoping for sex with a teenager they’ve been chatting with online, lured by a middle-aged man behind a keyboard. A young-looking actor (Phoebe Bridgers) serves as a decoy, awkward chit-chat ensues. Hansen surprises the visitor/predator/victim with “have a seat,” then comes the pleading and desperation, finally the sounds of a police pouncing on the suspect as they leave. The show was such a sensation it became a meme, Hansen a household name.

At the center of the sleazy tsunami is Pattinson, doing one of his now signature performances featuring a weird little voice. He makes Hansen’s stentorian newscaster’s delivery slimy, and emphasizes his flair for the dramatic, though he claims what he’s doing is not acting. Oppenheim frequently deploys Chris’ repeated whispering of the chat transcripts as an audio motif, like a disturbing kind of ASMR.

The script, by Ajon Singh, is based on a 2009 Esquire article by Luke Dittrich that detailed the 2006 incident that led to the show’s cancellation. That becomes the culminating event toward which we are rushing, but the film is also a portrait of intertwined twin ambitions, in Chris Hansen and a new decoy actor, Dan Plumb (Skyler Gisondo), who doesn’t quite know what he’s getting into when he arrives on set.

Shaky after his first encounter, Chris takes Dan for a drink and flatters his ego, connects with him over their shared Boy Scouts background. He grooms Dan into the strange “Predator” family, their matriarch the cold and driven producer Andie (Merritt Wever); Matthew Maher plays the keyboard warrior who’s a little too good at his job. The film follows them as they stomp the gas on the way to the destination where this was always going to end: in death.

Oppenheim favors extreme close-ups from high angles that capture every pore and broken blood vessel; he and cinematographer David Bolen bring a bright blown-out haze to the background and a murky darkness to the corners of these high-contrast images. There’s a golden light that hangs around Chris even as he descends into a swampy personal darkness that threatens to engulf him, but the film’s aesthetic is surreal, emphasizing its digital-ness, uncorrected and overblown, like the raw output of the hidden cameras.

With Pattinson’s performance, and an impeccably cast ensemble, the craft of “Primetime” is excellent. Oppenheim lets Pattinson peacock gloriously, while Gisondo, in contrast, is the bleeding heart of empathy. Dan tries to step into Chris’ place, to try on his authoritarian cosplay for a moment, but he finds it doesn’t quite fit.

“Primetime” grapples with the personalities and industrial conditions that created this show: the ratings race, the professional competitiveness. But to what end? It doesn’t ask us to take seriously the culture that made “Predator” a sensation. There’s some big, broad satire of swaggering Texas police departments, and Chris says, “every town used to have a pillory, now every house has a television set,” but that’s as far as the cultural commentary goes. Why do viewers want to “bleed” these pathetic men?

Last year, David Osit’s documentary “Predators” incisively unpacked the “To Catch a Predator” phenomenon, and the carceral mindset that makes us want to see abject individuals humiliated and punished, for justice or revenge. Pattinson might deliver a terrific, and chilling performance as Hansen — which has garnered the ire of the real-life subject. But after “Predators,” “Primetime” has no real bite.

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'PRIMETIME'

3 stars (out of 4)

MPA rating: R (for disturbing sexual material, graphic nudity, some violent content, and language)

Running time: 1:50

How to watch: In theaters Sept. 25

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