The new documentary “Sextortion: the Hidden Pandemic” (“STHP”) opens with this ancient text, attributed to St. Augustine: “Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are anger and courage. Anger at the way things are, and the courage to see that they do not remain as they are.”
Stone Age Technology
Since the inception of the internet, it has become both a vessel for adult-oriented imagery of every conceivable sub-sect and an electronic playground for predators. Regarding the latter, and because of the lower-tech nature of the internet in the beginning, minors were relatively safe. If someone was dumb enough to search for underage targets, the chances were they’d be caught.
As technology progressed at such a quick clip, it eclipsed users’ ability to fully comprehend its capability, deep reach, and, most importantly, the ability to remain fully anonymous. All bets were off, and everything became open game.
In the last five years, the explosion of social media outlets such as “Instagram” and “TikTok” have upped the ante even further. Add to that the forced global shutdown in March 2020, with children as young as 5 being given smart phones, and the recipe for impending disaster reached critical mass.
These factors are the crux of Peek’s film and, along with a superbly crafted narrative, turns the first two acts of “STHP” into an intense, true-life legal procedural. It opens in Bedford County, Virginia, where prosecuting attorney West Nance first became aware of a 14-year-old victim identified only as “H.M.”
It All Starts With a Selfie
Realizing, as most scientists will attest, that teenager’s minds are a still-developing mush, H.M.’s new friend presents himself as a sublime glove-fit and her minor defense shields drop to the floor. She takes a selfie in her underwear, sends it to him, and this is when her nightmare begins.
This same set of events occurs simultaneously to another young teen girl, the daughter of a U.S. Defense Department contractor living in Japan. As it takes place on foreign soil to the family of a government employee, the crimes go from being Virginia-based to national and international jurisdiction. As a result, law enforcement officers from Homeland Security, the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children (NCFMEC), Million Kids, and the U.S. Department of Justice are brought in.
Just how the agencies team-up together to ferret out their prime suspect is mind-blowing. They realize early on the culprit is beyond adept at cloaking his multiple electronic devices and they must put themselves in his twisted mindset. A few of these individuals break down during their interviews as they relive their horrific, yet ultimately successful mission.
It is probably best not to reveal the identity of the predator other than to mention that it’s not a reclusive hermit living in his mother’s basement.
Other than most movies directed by Errol Morris, the employment of dramatic recreation in documentaries often becomes a major negative distraction. Not only does Peek keep the number of these scenes to a bare minimum, but she also frames them in a flowing, artsy, minimalist manner.
In addition to being radically different in tone and timbre, the film’s final act feels as if were tacked on for the sole purpose of padding the length. In it, a single victim/survivor tells her own story, which is exactly what we’ve already been told. There are points during the interview where she seems to be more impressed with herself being in a movie than to discuss the events that got her there.
Earlier this year, Netflix released “The Most Hated Man on the Internet,” a three-part docuseries that is closely akin to “STHP” in content. It profiles Hunter Moore, the founder of the “revenge porn” website IsAnyoneUp.com, where he posted stolen, hacked and, yes, submitted nude photos of women who were all of legal age. There was no extortion involved, monetary or otherwise, but it did ruin many lives before one determined mother of a victim got the site taken down.
Both of these productions impart the same, relatively simple message: Don’t take a photo of yourself that you wouldn’t show to your grandmother, and you’ll be safe.
Being a parent these days is a tall order by anyone’s yardstick. They are charged with performing the duties of both warden and cheerleader, often at the same time, and life in the wake of COVID-19 has made things all the more difficult.
Startling Numbers
Among the many charts and graphs shown in the film, the one that is easily the most disturbing is from the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children (NCFMEC) from this year. In 2018, a little over 12,000 leads were received by the NCFMEC cyber tip line; in 2021 that number skyrocketed to over 44,000, an increase of over 350 percent.The situation has indeed reached “pandemic” levels, and shows no signs of letting up.
Parents with minor children need to see this movie immediately, once by themselves and again with their children. It will be a rough experience, but sometimes tough love is the only viable option.
