Key Takeaways
- Chris Hansen says he has no regrets about covering the 2006 To Catch a Predator operation that ended with Texas prosecutor Bill Conradt dying by suicide as police entered his home.
- Hansen insists law enforcement made the decision to pursue Conradt and rejects Primetime’s portrayal of the investigations as ratings-driven, calling the film an insult to people who protect children from predators.
- Robert Pattinson’s fictionalized film premiered at the Venice Film Festival as the real case’s fallout—including NBC’s undisclosed settlement with Conradt’s sister—returns to the spotlight.
Chris Hansen is not backing away from the most explosive chapter of To Catch a Predator. Nearly 20 years after a Texas prosecutor died by suicide as police and a Dateline NBC crew arrived at his home, Hansen says he has never lost sleep over covering the operation—just as Robert Pattinson’s Primetime drags the fatal sting back into the spotlight.
Louis William “Bill” Conradt Jr., then a 56-year-old assistant district attorney, was targeted during a November 2006 investigation after exchanging sexually explicit messages with volunteers posing as 13-year-old boys.
But Conradt never showed up at the sting house in Murphy, Texas. Police obtained warrants and brought the operation to his home in nearby Terrell, where he fatally shot himself as a tactical team entered. Hansen and the Dateline crew were waiting outside to film his arrest.
That death now serves as the dark climax of Primetime, A24’s fictionalized take on the rise of Hansen’s predator investigations. Pattinson plays a version of the correspondent, increasingly consumed by the ratings and desperate to turn the stings into a primetime franchise. The film debuted in competition at the Venice Film Festival on September 5, earning Pattinson strong reviews and early Oscar chatter ahead of its theatrical rollout.
Hansen hasn’t seen the full movie, but he has heard enough to reject its version of events. Asked by The Hollywood Reporter whether he regretted following police to Conradt’s home, Hansen placed the decision squarely on law enforcement.
“We were covering what the police were doing,” he said. “We didn’t have a role in the decision. The police decided to do it, and we covered it like any other arrest we would cover in the course of reporting the story.”
When pressed on whether Conradt’s death ever caused sleepless nights, second thoughts, or a change of heart, Hansen gave a blunt answer: “No. We continued to conduct investigations after that.”
The operation’s consequences did not end there. Conradt’s sister, Patricia, sued NBC for $105 million, and a federal judge allowed the central claims to proceed in 2008. The judge wrote that a jury could find the network had crossed from legitimate journalism into “irresponsible and reckless intrusion into law enforcement.”
NBC later settled for an undisclosed amount. Prosecutors also declined to pursue charges against the other 23 men arrested during the Murphy sting.
Hansen maintains that Primetime distorts both that case and the larger purpose of his reporting. “I think it’s an insult to the thousands of men and women who work hard every day to protect children from predators,” he said, arguing that the filmmakers turned dangerous investigative work into “essentially a horror film.”
He also pushed back on the idea that the franchise consumed his career, noting that none of his 10 Emmy wins came from the Predator investigations.
