A GenXer surprises his Gen Alpha daughter with floor seats to see the incredible (fictional) pop sensation Lady Raven. The stage is set for plenty of daddy-daughter bonding for the thriller Trap. Security at the event is tight though. Twenty thousand fans plus hundreds of armed guards tight. What gives? It turns out the entire concert at Philadelphia’s Tanaka Arena (actually filmed at Toronto’s SkyDome) is a trap to capture the serial killer known as The Butcher. Wouldn’t you know it, the killer might just be a girl dad. Can he escape? Starring Josh Hartnett (Oppenheimer) as the tall and handsome forty-something father, writer/director M. Night Shyalaman follows up his terrific tiny location set apocalypse Knock At The Cabin with a much bigger yet still mostly isolated stadium-filled venue. But has a clever trap truly been set?
First, the good news: while the film was suspiciously not screened for the vast majority of critics (including we at We Live Entertainment), Shyalaman’s latest is by no means a dud like 2010’s disastrous The Last Airbender. Far from it. The concept is strong, and the setting works with a genuine feeling of “how will this all end?” permeating throughout the 105-minute runtime. Still, those 105 minutes are saddled with one too many endings, spotty acting, and, as is Shayamalan’s Achilles heel of late, too many people having to deliver his awkward style of dialogue. Satisfaction may vary, but I suspect many will give it a chance on the premise alone.
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Years ago, when I first moved to Los Angeles, I remember getting into a discussion with a fellow promo producer about the relatability of certain blockbuster filmmakers. Akin to George H.W. Bush not knowing how a cashier scans groceries, my colleague exclaimed that all too often, “Ya get famous, you get off the proverbial bus.” I have no clue if Steven Spielberg ever owned a transit card, but it sure seems like M. Night Shyalaman hasn’t been to a concert in over a decade. Paper tickets? Really? A vital clue about the killer’s location is based on a paper receipt. Why? Back in Shyamalan’s day, did The Rolling Stones take breaks between sets? Because I know for damn sure Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish, and any K-Pop band do not. And no, you can’t just re-enter a live show once your ticket is surrendered. These might seem like goofy plot holes, but for anyone attending a show in the last ten years, it’s colossally stupid. Does he not have interns in their twenties? Come on, Shyalaman, you’re better than this!
It’s fine, we move on. The key to the bulk of the story working is seeing Hartnett switch between being a good dad to teen Riley (Ariel Donoghue) and being a cold, calculating sociopath who knocks a young girl with health issues down a flight of stairs. Hartnett totally pulls off the non-verbal part of this performance. It’s refreshing to see the typically good-natured Hartnett embrace such a darkness. Yet, once Cooper’s confronted by those who know the “real him,” I’m not quite sure the heartthrob of The Virgin Suicides delivers. I think he’s attempting to channel Christian Bale’s iconic role as Patrick Bateman in Mary Harron’s cult classic satire, American Psycho. Hartnett is certainly game though, and I can appreciate the effort.
As Cooper’s fan-obsessed daughter, Riley, Donoghue is believable in some instances yet feels overly written by a boomer in others. Pantomiming the songs at the show and telling her dad how to use the term “crispy” feels overly self-conscious. Again, I am not knocking Donoghue; she puts in the work. However, like many supporting roles (including a fun appearance by comedian Jonathan Langdon as one of the people selling merch at the concert), there’s not much “there” there. Even the reliable Alison Pill (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World) gets saddled with a nothing burger of a part that I will not spoil. Once a very good director of teens and children (okay, not Airbender), it’s baffling how tone-deaf many of the moments with those under 18 are for the writer/director. I may not have loved Signs, but young Abigail Breslin and Rory Culkin were pitch-perfect.
This brings us to the script’s best surprise but most frustrating casting. The role of pop sensation Lady Raven is played by Saleka Shyamalan, the director’s real-life daughter and an actual singer-songwriter. (In the film, M. Night Shyamalan appears as Lady Raven’s uncle.) On stage, Saleka definitely channels a bit of Olivia Rodrigo and a bit of Ariana Grande, which works. Off stage, at first, Raven has a terrific stand-off moment with Cooper. But, as is often the case with the script, one too many monologues induce eye-rolling. The feeling of “Is this the best take they got?” settles in. It’s a pity, as I love the idea of a serial killer versus off against a pop star. That’s gold!
Trap works quite well when it sticks to its wonderfully minimalist concept. How can Cooper escape? Do we want him to? Etc. Unfortunately, the need for Shyalaman’s insistence on trying to “top” himself is the film’s ultimate undoing. My gripes with Shyamalan’s questionable concert experience aside, there’s enough for the film to scrape by, but this trap has holes.
Trap opens in theaters August 2, 2024.
