process

NEW YORK CITY: The UN secretary-general’s personal envoy for Sudan, Pekka Haavisto, joined fellow “Quintet” mediators in Khartoum on Tuesday for a round of talks aimed at reviving an inclusive political process that can end the conflict in Sudan, the UN said.

The Quintet group — comprising the African Union, the Intergovernmental Authority on Development, the League of Arab States, the EU and the UN — held what Stephane Dujarric, spokesperson for UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres, described as a “good offices mission” to hear an assessment by Sudanese stakeholders of the political and security situation in the country, and to share reflections on efforts to advance peace.

The envoys met at the Sudanese Foreign Ministry before engaging with representatives of UN agencies, Dujarric told reporters in New York. Next, they will meet Sudanese political and civilian representatives, followed by further engagements, he said.

Sudan has been locked in a civil war between the Sudanese Armed Forces and rival paramilitary faction the Rapid Support Forces since April 2023.

Haavisto arrived in Khartoum on Friday and held a series of meetings with the chairman of Sudan’s Transitional Sovereignty Council, the prime minister, the foreign minister and senior government officials, as well as other political leaders and representatives of civil society, Dujarric said.

Haavisto’s talks over the weekend focused on “practical measures to advance deescalation and the protection of civilians,” Dujarric added. He also raised the issue of the release and exchange of detainees, and stressed the importance of a single national examination process for all Sudanese schoolchildren.

Haavisto called for an inclusive political process alongside concrete steps to reduce violence in the country, insisting that a negotiated settlement remained “the only viable path” toward a comprehensive ceasefire agreement and a sustainable end to the conflict.

The envoy is expected to remain in Sudan until the end of this week.

VENICE, Italy — When Skyler Gisondo turns up in “Primetime” as “Decoy Dan” Plum, an aspiring 23-year-old actor cast to play teenage bait for an unsuspecting pedophile, the camera can’t take its eyes off him.

The second trap set in director Lance Oppenheim’s lurid sweeps-ploitation drama about “To Catch a Predator” follows Gisondo’s face, most often in extreme close-up, as Dan processes what he’s gotten himself into, attempts to make small talk with the predator and finally flees off set, where he sits down, steadies himself and sheds a shaken tear. The suspect, meanwhile, is an afterthought, or more accurately a punchline: He only truly captures the camera’s attention when he drops trou, rips the top off a canister of whipped cream and sprays.

It’s an arresting formal choice, repeated from the opening sequence — that of the viral “You see how this looks, right?” moment from the trailer — to the climatic suicide of Rockwall County, Texas, Assistant Dist. Atty. Bill Conradt Jr., whose case is explored in the Esquire magazine article on which Ajon Singh’s screenplay is based. With rare exception, “Primetime” doesn’t have the guts to look its predators in the eye.

And perhaps it doesn’t need to. The film directs its most gleeful energies instead to taking “To Catch a Predator” host Chris Hansen (Robert Pattinson) down a peg. The former “Dateline NBC” correspondent, who turned a newsmagazine segment about men soliciting teens for sex online into a hidden-camera sensation in the mid-aughts, comes off here as a self-serious showboat who’s mistaken tabloid trash for accountability journalism. (As one audio technician complains, “Guy thinks he’s f— Mike Wallace.”) It’s not just that stentorian voice, either. Envy of “Dateline” co-anchor Stone Phillips provides as much motivation as ratings pressure from TV executive Jeff Zucker (playing himself), with Hansen micromanaging his crew, insulting his producer, Andie (Merritt Wever), and neglecting his wife and kids in the process.

At least in the film’s early going, this yearning for adulation is played for cringeworthy comedy, and effectively so; my hardest laugh came when Hansen screens the rough cut of a new episode for his young sons and brags to them about “To Catch a Predator” being moved to a better time slot. As the tone moves toward horror, though, the decision to make the host the story quickly stops paying dividends. Indeed, though the real-life broadcaster may not find all the ego-deflation very funny, even Hansen — who told my colleague Stephen Battaglio that he objects to the film using his name and likeness under the label “inspired by true events” — would have to admit that “Primetime” avoids the thorniest questions about the true-crime empire he built.

Robert Pattinson as Chris Hansen in “Primetime.”

(A24)

Compared with David Osit’s superb 2025 documentary “Predators,” a kaleidoscopic examination of the phenomenon from the perspective of Hansen, the decoys, the suspects, law enforcement, journalistic ethics and the filmmaker’s own experience as a survivor of child sexual abuse, “Primetime” seems remarkably incurious about “To Catch a Predator” and its consequences. It would probably be too much to ask a scripted feature to explore the challenge of achieving convictions against defendants ensnared on an episode of “Dateline,” or to delve into the legal niceties of surreptitious recording. But the suspects here are so anonymized — seen in profile or steep angles through a hidden camera lens, spied at a distance on a monitor in video village, heard as a disembodied voice on a phone or read via text in an instant message — that there’s not much to argue over anyway. The predators are reduced from people to “perverts,” of scarcely more interest to “Primetime” than to the bloodthirsty viewer Hansen meets on a plane.

When an entrapped rabbi attacks Hansen during a sting, screaming in his own tight close-up, “You don’t have the right to do this. Who do you think you are?” the film briefly, mercifully breaks this pattern, and generates an electric moment of moral uncertainty. But it doesn’t last. Instead, in its depiction of the Conradt case — ostensibly meant to underscore “To Catch a Predator’s” worst extremes — “Primetime” stumbles into some of the very same gutter sleaze tactics as the original series, transforming what was in reality a grim mid-afternoon standoff into a tense, pitch-dark operation punctuated by lightning strikes, power outages and night-vision cameras.

Such poetic license offers little new insight into a topic that has already been picked over for two decades, but it might be forgiven were Hansen as easily dramatized as he is made fun of. Alas. “Primetime” itself seems to know this — why else hire Gisondo to play Jimmy Olsen to Pattinson’s unlikable Man of Zeal — yet proceeds to construct its second half around Hansen’s unraveling: an extramarital affair, about to be exposed in the National Enquirer; ratings losses to ABC competitor “Lost”; desperation to reel in a “whale” and willingness to cut corners to do it. By the time the film again confronts the specter of something wicked under “To Catch a Predator’s” glossy surface, it comes in the form of Hansen’s own phantoms, introduced in a grueling flashback to India in the 1990s and carried through to the film’s conclusion. Why we’re to care about this apparent flash of horror, if not of conscience, remains unexplained. What about the faintly ludicrous figure of the foregoing 100-plus minutes was supposed to make me care about his moral compass?

In the final estimation, then, “Primetime” isn’t a Chris Hansen hit piece. In fact, it’s so in love with its flawed protagonist that it can’t see he’s the least compelling character in the movie, an ambitious, arrogant, grasping, unscrupulous man we’ve met countless times before. Which may explain the film’s final bit of poetic license. The last we last see of Hansen, muttering lines from his script as the police process the Conradt crime scene, suggests a man disturbed, perhaps even chastened, by what he has witnessed. But of course the real-life Hansen continues his sting operations to this day under the banner of “Takedown,” a series on his streaming service TruBlu, and both there and in “Predators” he appears utterly unshaken, unhaunted, unbowed. So for all the tension between the film and its subject to come through in the press of late, the gulf between them is not so wide as one might suspect.

Maybe they deserve each other.

The Sparks have hired a new general manager from the NBA ranks.

Ariana Andonian will officially join the organization next month, the Sparks said Friday. She replaces Raegan Pebley, who was fired in mid-July after 2½ years.

The Sparks (15-25) are headed toward a sixth consecutive losing season. The organization owns three WNBA championships, but none since 2016.

Andonian, 31, has been general manager of the Delaware Blue Coats, the NBA G League affiliate of the Philadelphia 76ers, while also serving as the 76ers’ vice president of player personnel.

While Pebley had no previous executive experience, Andonian has spent over 10 years working in basketball operations, scouting, player personnel and talent evaluation across the NBA and NBA G League.

“Ariana has distinguished herself throughout her career as an exceptional evaluator of talent and a thoughtful, forward-thinking basketball executive,” Sparks managing partner and governor Eric Holoman said in a statement. “She has earned the respect of some of the best basketball minds in the game, but what stood out to us throughout this process was her vision for building a team and an organization.”

Andonian is a California native who graduated from USC. She earned an MBA from Duke University, where she worked directly with Hall of Fame coach Mike Krzyzewski and current head coach Jon Scheyer as a player personnel consultant for the men’s basketball program.

“It was clear to me throughout this process that the Sparks ownership group is committed to delivering for our fans,” she said in a statement. “My goal as GM is to build a culture of excellence centered around great people, strong processes and doing everything within our power to best support our players on and off the court.”

Andonian joined the 76ers in 2024 as vice president of player personnel, where she ran the organization’s professional scouting group and co-led its extended scouting efforts. She was named GM of the Delaware Blue Coats last year.

Andonian began her NBA career with the Houston Rockets in 2015. In four seasons, she worked in basketball operations and scouting, becoming the NBA’s only female scout at the time and ultimately helping coordinate the Rockets’ scouting group.

In 2020, Andonian joined the Memphis Grizzlies, where she spent four seasons and advanced to director of player personnel.

L.A. County Dist. Atty. Nathan Hochman did something last week few prosecutors ever do — changed his mind in public, swapping out felony charges for misdemeanors in the case of an LAPD officer accused of secretly taping homophobic, racist and misogynistic remarks made by colleagues.

Since then, Hochman has been slammed for playing politics, embarrassing his office and even backing down for no reason other than the pressure was too intense.

Not a stellar look for a politician relatively new to elected office.

After speaking with Hochman about the reversal, I have a more optimistic take on it — drawn from a Talmudic quote that Hochman keeps on his desk, and which his father — a tax lawyer who represented at least one mobster — kept on his desk before him.

It’s Deuteronomy 16:20, “Tzedek, tzedek, tirdof” — Justice, justice you shall pursue.

It’s that double justice that holds weight in this situation, because, as Hochman explains it, his god rarely repeats himself without reason. Hochman said he reads that echo as referring to two parts of delivering justice — the process and the result.

“We try to get the right result. We try to get it in the right way,” Hochman told me.

When things go wrong, like they did in this case, he’ll reevaluate, he said, even if it leaves him with egg on his face.

“If that means that I have to publicly come out at a press conference and say that our initial decision-making, and what went into it, turns out not to have been perfect, and it is not set in stone, and we think there’s a better way of doing something, I’m going to stand up in a press conference and say exactly that,” he said.

A prosecutor who is willing to change his or her mind is critical to delivering real justice, because people get things wrong. Hochman holds incredible power over the thousands of lives entangled in the matters his office handles. Leaving that power of process in the hands of someone who can’t admit they made a mistake (as is the case with more D.A.’s than not) puts justice on a greased slide into a cesspool of hubris.

The distinction between the two forms of justice may seem like splitting hairs, but to anyone who has ever been involved with our justice system — as a victim or defendant, innocent or guilty — being dragged into a prosecution can often feel like an avalanche of misfortune.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think every person charged with a crime is a victim. There are plenty of predators out there, committing violations big and small, that require accountability.

But the process of administering justice is far more subjective and messy than we often admit. Sometimes, even when the prosecutor involved almost certainly knows something other than justice is in the works, there is a momentum of ego and bureaucracy that is hard to reverse.

And it doesn’t take a guilty verdict to derail a life. Simply having charges filed can mean a job loss, losing custody of kids, incarceration for months or years waiting for a trial, financial hardship and stigma.

We like to think of an innocent verdict as a great vindication, but by the time one arrives, if it does, a lifetime of damage may already have been done — that is the unseen power of process.

Just ask Daniel Flores, the LAPD officer whose case we’re talking about. Though he likely will eventually see all criminal charges dismissed, Flores told my colleagues Libor Jany and Richard Winton that this incident has “ruined” his life.

Hochman for weeks has faced intense public anger over his initial decision to charge Flores with 16 felonies. Folks from the lofty heights of the mayor to this lowly columnist objected, pointing out that punishing whistleblowers, even ones who may have technically broken the law as Hochman said Flores likely did (though Flores’ lawyer disputes that), would chill other officers from coming forward.

Hochman at first defended the charges, pointing out that as a sworn officer, Flores had an even higher duty to adhere to the letter and spirit of the law.

But, he said, he was unprepared for how strongly the public would react to the whistleblower part of the case. Though he contends he never meant to send a message silencing those who would expose wrongdoing, he concedes that did happen.

“People interpreted it that we’re trying to discourage all whistleblowers by the way we went about this prosecution,” Hochman said.

He also acknowledges that he is still learning what it means to be in this elected office. Though he has been both a federal prosecutor and a defense attorney, this is by far the most publicly accountable and visible role he has held, and he’s still figuring out that part of the job. It’s easy to be the candidate lobbing criticisms, or even the defense lawyer arguing the facts. It is much harder to be the person answerable to the nearly 10 million people of Los Angeles County when it comes to ensuring they feel both protected and respected by the law.

In his first year in office, more than one civil liberties advocate has taken issue with his approach.

“It is a continuous learning experience. In fact, anyone who takes this job and doesn’t view this as a daily learning experience cannot possibly do the job well,” he said. “If you don’t adapt to what’s out there, you don’t listen to what’s going on … you will fail, and by failure, I mean that you won’t achieve a society where people trust that the district attorney’s office is doing its job and doing it as best as it possibly could,” he said.

He blames the media in part for distracting from his accountability message in favor of the whistleblower-chilling angle in the Flores case — likely including headlines such as the one I wrote, “Protecting the blue wall of silence is not justice in LAPD whistleblower case.”

I’m willing to stand by the process that got me to that opinion, and also to give Hochman credit for being willing to change direction on his process when it was leading our city down the wrong path.

There are plenty of places where I hope Hochman will apply that rigor in the future — issues such as the death penalty, which he has brought back to Los Angeles, or in other difficult cases such as the killing of Keith Porter Jr. by an off-duty ICE agent. Porter’s family recently asked Hochman to convene a grand jury to hear the facts.

But that Hochman thinks about process, and the power that it holds, speaks well for justice in Los Angeles — even, maybe especially, when things go awry.