Gerald Foos, the story goes, is a man whose life was spent in the shadows, lurking in an attic above the Manor House Motel, where for more than 20 years he observed guests fight, sleep, watch TV, shower, and have sex. After purchasing the motel, Foos had—with the help of his wife—installed special air vents in the ceiling of most rooms, through which he scrutinized his customers, taking copious notes on the action within. Although Foos styles himself as a sociologist, describing his motel as a “laboratory” and his peeping space as “an observation platform,” he also freely confesses that the act of watching others without their consent was a sexual predilection, and that he masturbated several times a night while doing so. He explains this to the directors of a new Netflix documentary debuting Friday because Foos has come to be that most contradictory of beings: a voyeur who wants to be seen. Voyeur captures Foo’s public uncovering at the hands of Gay Talese, the magazine writer and New Journalism pioneer who first met Foos in 1980, and who finally published his story in a 2016 New Yorker feature called “The Voyeur’s Motel,” followed by a book of the same name. “I’m a natural person to write about a voyeur because I’m a voyeur myself,” Talese tells Myles Kane and Josh Koury, the documentarians, referring to his longtime curiosity as a journalist. But that doesn’t quite begin to cover the strange synchronicity between writer and subject that unfurls in Voyeur—the metatextual layers of Foos unburdening himself to Talese, who in turn seems to divulge more about himself than he intends to the camera. The movie is built around the question of what could compel both men—studious longtime observers of human behavior—to turn themselves into subjects, given all the attendant risks of exposure. Anyone who’s read “The Voyeur’s Motel” will be prepared for the more disturbing chronicles of Foos’s behavior. But on camera he’s stranger still, a burly man with dyed black hair and oversized tinted glasses. He’s absurdly grandiose at times, apparently delusional at others, and yet almost pathetically needy for Talese’s approval. “Nobody will ever be able to do what I did,” Foos