True crime content has raised a lot of concerns over the years for many reasons, and I'm seeing more and more media trying to address this. Two features from last year stood out as excellent examples of the work of filmmakers trying to grapple with some of the major issues, one focusing more on form and the other one more on content.
"Zodiac Killer Project" is a festival favorite that went largely under the radar due to its more experimental nature. It's not a film about the Zodiac Killer, but writer/director Charlie Shackleton's film about a Zodiac Killer documentary that he was not able to make. Shackleton intended to adapt Lyndon E. Lafferty's 2012 book, The Zodiac Killer Cover-Up, AKA The Silenced Badge, about a policeman's investigation into a specific suspect, but negotiations for the rights fell through. This left Shackleton with detailed plans for his film and no way to realize them. However, he still wanted to share his vision.
So, instead of making the documentary, he made a satirical meta-documentary, where he tells the audience all about the movie that never got made, using a lot of clips from other true-crime documentaries to illustrate various storytelling devices that he expected to use, and some limited original footage - mostly location shots around the Bay Area. It's a very minimalist film, consisting almost entirely of Shackleton's narration and the cobbled-together images. However, "Zodiac Killer Project" isn't just a look into the mind of a stymied filmmaker trying to let go of a project he was very invested in, but turns out to be a really biting critique of the whole true-crime genre. Initially it's funny and illuminating to watch Shackleton point out all the common tropes of true-crime documentaries, from the use of grainy home movies and "evocative B-roll," to the prevalence of law enforcement figures named Bulldog, all while constantly referencing other true-crime docs like "Making a Murderer."
As Shackleton describes how he planned to adapt parts of Lafferty's book and stage various pieces of action, the whole endeavor becomes increasingly troubling and the satire gets darker. He's perfectly willing to stage scenes that never happened and play up the sinister nature of the suspect to make his narrative more engrossing to the viewer, even though he knows it's all bunk. He points out the fallacies and inaccuracies of other directors, and then praises them in the next breath for making such entertaining work. There's a fantastic moment where he describes a location that he plans to show as foreboding and creepy due to the appearance of disturbing painted symbols found there - only to reveal that the symbols are actually just scribbles and lewd graffiti that looks like a kid drew them. Shackleton is the least interested in actually filling in the real details of the Zodiac killings, which are too well known and don't give him enough room to be more creative.
And now it's time to talk about "Predators," David Osit's examination of the history and legacy of "To Catch a Predator," the popular reality television series that aired as a part of "Dateline NBC" from 2004 to 2007. Osit was able to obtain behind the scenes footage and unused footage shot during the show's notorious sting operations, designed to entrap and force on-camera confrontations with purported child predators. He also interviewed some of the crew and talent involved, including host Chris Hansen and actors who played the fake minors in the stings. If you already thought that "To Catch a Predator" was ethically troubling, "Predators" just makes it all the more obvious that the show often operated on dubious moral grounds.
Osit, an assault survivor, is very careful about how he presents his material. Throughout, his position is that despite the show's enormous success, it does little to help the victims or to shed any light on why the crimes are committed. Meanwhile there was every incentive for Hansen and his collaborators to operate recklessly, dehumanizing their targets and ignoring safety considerations to a disturbing degree. The harms that resulted were foreseeable and preventable. The show's targets were often caught in a way that meant they couldn't be prosecuted, and the public nature of the confrontations resulted in more than one suicide. The success of "To Catch a Predator" also led to multiple copycat operations being run by amateurs chasing clout.
There's been a spate of similar media lately, revealing what was going on behind the scenes of other prominent television shows from the same era, like "Fit for TV: The Reality of The Biggest Loser" and "Quiet on the Set." "Predators" is much more thoughtful than most of these, because it has a very personal throughline thanks to Osit, and the goal is to dispel much of the sensationalism that the others encourage. Some of the most effective moments are very simple, like seeing the additional footage of the "To Catch a Predator" targets in more human moments. There are no real bombshells, just a conscious reframing of the narrative to call our assumptions into question. Hansen says nothing new here, but nonetheless his interview is damning.
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