God**** it, M. Night Shyamalan. We were almost getting back on track.
Many of us have yearned for him to make a towering comeback ever since the early days of his career, when The Sixth Sense, Signs, and The Village strolled out to have us remark that “Shyamalan is the next big thing.” However, the second act of his career has been defined somewhat by less-than-renowned critical whiffs that almost turn his distributed features into a gag. Granted, his off-kilter originality regarding a template for a wholly new storytelling bit remains unmatched in an industry shattered by monstrous IPs. So, his newcomer Trap became proposed as a “What if The Silence of the Lambs happened at Taylor Swift concert?” that’s a provocative albeit weird hook that ensures folks still enjoy another idiocentric idea right from Shyamalan’s mindset.
And you know what? It’s even more avant-garde when Mr. Shyamalan, known for using preposterous plot twists to cap off a hit-or-miss tale, drops the bomb within the first act. Our lead star, Cooper (played by Josh Hartnett), is a firefighter who is taking his daughter Riley (Abigail Donoghue) to see a globally famous pop star, Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan, who is also Shyamalan’s daughter), to a daytime arena concert. And lo and behold, Mr. Cooper is not a good man, taking a bathroom break to showcase on his phone that he’s a serial killer by holding a hostage captive in an undisclosed location. You see, Cooper learns from a dopey T-shirt employee that the concert is an elaborate ruse to catch the notorious ‘The Butcher’ as the police got a notice that he would be in attendance; Mr. Cooper can’t hide this reality with his facial expressions much longer as he trots around seeing police/SWAT teams at every corner of the building.
Okay, we might have something to get out of this. Hartnett wonderfully carries this maniac, enthusiastic energy throughout his casual interactions, and one is curious to see his next move on getting out of there unscathed. And while the suspense is ample, the tactics used to transition into the second act become rather risible. How is it that police barely have a description of the gentleman from a tip-off? How does one man streamline his way past security without even one face being suspicious? Ok, maybe this will lead to something even more bat**** crazy. Nope, it’s more of a series of moves that stand derivative from The Silence of the Lambs and even parts of Die Hard. We’re simply tapping into rule-bending at every turn and not given enough of a detailed explanation as to why Mr. Cooper has committed to such a brutalist reality while moonlighting as a casual father and husband.
And while dissecting this can become vexing enough, there is a plentiful amount to admire from Shyamalan’s technique. His clever composition of the concert scenes coincides with superb cinematography and sound capturing that serve as a commendable backdrop for the cat-and-mouse game of “Where is this serial killer?” among us. Heck, yours indeed can throw Saleka Shyamalan some praise for her acting and song performances (she wrote fourteen songs for this film). But, the practicality of utilizing this premise, which is fascinating enough, seems to steer over an edge when we break into the third act. It becomes a whirlwind of inane choices, almost pulling you out of the viewing experience.
Shyamalan has a myriad of tools and techniques in his arsenal to illuminate the screen further, but sadly, he doesn’t commit too much once his cat is out of the bag after the first act. And while noble for some expansive cinematography and stellar performances, Trap becomes a well-crafted pod yet hollow inside.
