The veteran journalist stormed out of an exclusive preview of ‘Primetime’ over a simple, industry-standard demand for his soul. He owes Robert Pattinson an apology.
I was at Soho House in West Hollywood, picking over a forty-dollar plate of heirloom radishes with a publicist who handles a very prominent streamer, when the news broke. Chris Hansen, the former television host of “To Catch a Predator” fame, had walked out of A24’s offices without seeing Lance Oppenheim’s new film, *Primetime*. The reason? The indie distributor had asked him to sign a non-disclosure agreement that allegedly stripped him of his life rights before he could take a seat in their screening room. My jaw dropped. The absolute, unmitigated entitlement of the man.
We are talking about Robert Pattinson here. We are talking about an actor who lived in a lighthouse for Willem Dafoe, a man who sparkled for our sins, a generational talent who is reportedly playing a fictionalised version of Hansen himself. If a prestige studio invites you into their inner sanctum and asks you to waive your right to a trial by jury in exchange for ninety minutes of transformative cinema, the only appropriate response is a handwritten thank-you note.
Make no mistake, the modern cinematic rollout requires sacrifice. Before a film bows at the Venice Film Festival, the buzz is incredibly fragile. A studio simply cannot risk a subject having “opinions” or “legal autonomy” that might disrupt a ten-minute standing ovation on the Lido. The reps and producers worked tirelessly to curate a masterpiece, and Hansen could not even be bothered to sign a document that likely just gave A24 the right to harvest his memories and monetise his lingering regrets.
The irony is entirely lost on Hansen, a man whose entire legacy is built on inviting unsuspecting men into kitchens, pointing six broadcast cameras at them, and asking them to have a seat while ruining their lives on national television. Now, A24 merely wants to legally bind him to a chair so he can quietly watch Robert Pattinson ruin his life on an elevated, cinematic level, and suddenly he discovers a passion for personal boundaries? It is called an homage, Chris. Try to appreciate the craft.
We merely asked Mr. Hansen to temporarily cede all legal dominion over his past and future trauma so we could properly submit the film for a Golden Globe, which is standard festival season boilerplate.
By hoarding his civil liberties, Hansen is actively starving independent cinema. How is Lance Oppenheim supposed to craft a searing, voyeuristic portrait of a real person if that person insists on remaining an autonomous human being off-camera? It is just bad form.
As someone who has walked the red carpet more times than I can count, I understand that the price of proximity to greatness is total personal subjugation. When I was granted an early look at *The Whale*, the studio required me to sign a document explicitly forfeiting my right to complain about my lower back pain in perpetuity. I signed it without hesitation, because I respect the theatrical window.
If Hansen truly cared about journalism, he would have signed the paperwork, surrendered his identity to the distributor, and let A24 own him body and soul for the duration of the press tour. Instead, he chose to walk away, keeping his rights but missing out on what my sources assure me is a transcendent third act. Frankly, Chris, why don't you take a seat and think about what you have done.