Trap, the 16th feature of M. Night Shyamalan’s kinetic career, has enjoyed a marketing campaign built off the backs of his most enthusiastic fans. An enticing premise, stellar first trailer, and Shyamalan fun facts aside, Warner Bros. opted not to screen the film for critics ahead of the domestic release. Whether that comes from uncertainty or total disbelief in the project is the most surprising twist of the movie. Trap may not have mega-stars or sizzling box office setpieces, but it does have enough talent on board to check the quadrants for a late-summer thrill.
However, critics missing out on Trap may prove worthwhile for an audience eager to be readily available to join the conversation. Under these circumstances, the communal aspect of moviegoing can flourish more than usual. Especially at a time when people just can’t help but record the screen to farm for engagement online. Based on the mixed reception so far, it is evident a Shyamalan weekend is upon us, and the conversation about him and his style will be discourse box office. Who needs screenings when the intensely passionate conversation will suffice? With a filmmaker like Shyamalan, anomalies and uncertainties are no stranger, and the manic evolution of his style in Trap is the cure for this movie season’s drought.
Starring Josh Hartnett as a serial killer and girl-dad, Cooper Adams, Shyamalan wastes no time making Hartnett a towering presence with all six foot three inches of his height. As he and his daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) reach the Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan) concert, it feels like all eyes are on Cooper. Teaming with cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom, Shyamalan frames Cooper as a looming force above the younger demographic drawn to Lady Raven. He is head and shoulders taller than just about everyone at the venue, and this advantage is utilized in the physicality that Hartnett brings to the role. Shyamalan has always done well at playing into an actor's strengths through their stature, and a performance symbolic of this is as recent as Dave Bautista's titanous role in Knock at the Cabin.
Hartnett may not be as hulking as Bautista, but Hartnett’s limber form can tiptoe between the cerebral anguish of being a killer, and the presence of being an alert father, with remarkable precision. With Hartnett making some sort of career resurgence, it’s exciting to be reminded of what it looks like when an actor utilizes every bit of their body to express emotion. There will be hang-ups with Shyamalan’s dialogue, as there always has been throughout his career, but Shyamalan’s language is intertwined with the relationship between the actors and their immediate spaces. Dating back to Bruce Willis’ performance in Unbreakable, Shyamalan has never been afraid of making sure the camera maximizes the evolution of his characters through their emotional realizations. Willis increasing the weight he benches isn’t carried through dialogue, but his reaction of being able to bench more is sensed by the camera as well.
In Trap, Shyamalan frequently conveys visual information at a manic rate. Hartnett will glance around the venue to note the surplus of law enforcement, gaze at potential exit points, or use his eyes to dart around his mind as he maps out a plan. In contrast, Shyamalan will have Hartnett resort to positively reinforced dialogue between him and Riley that will tighten their bond. Most of Hartnett’s verbal cues are humorously played against the more intense moments when he’s in his head. Shyamalan uses this playful relationship between the languages of the mind and the body to work through the relationship Cooper has with his surroundings and his relationships with others. The eventual effects this will have on the second half of the movie materialize with an unexpected thematic slight that disrupts what we typically anticipate from Shyamalan.
Trap may have shades of Hitchcock and Bresson’s, A Man Escaped (even if that undersells the significance of Bresson’s masterpiece), but the film is a dangerously fun continuation of the filmography we’ve wavered with for 32 years. Even with a tough run between 2006 and 2015, Shyamalan’s focal points have never changed. His films are overjoyed by the idea of looking at the world through the eyes of children, and distraught by the horror of families and communities being torn apart by something they can or cannot control. That sense of control is pent up in Cooper, and he, like the aliens in Signs, or the afterlife in The Sixth Sense, puts pressure on the world with the thematic gravity necessary to ground Trap in emotional stakes that cut through the heart of his filmography. In this regard, it is his most cynical approach to catharsis yet, and with that, Shyamalan proves he has enough tricks in his bag to keep us guessing till the very end.
Although Shyamalan’s style permeates throughout the film with clear-eyed intent, it can be disappointing when the setting fails to be utilized to its fullest potential. For taking place at a concert that has brought 20,000 screaming fans into an arena, the soundscape is too quiet to feel imposing. Shyamalan has always excelled at turning a setting into a personalized space, but the concert venue lacks a punch compared to the beach in Old, or the grandparent’s house in The Visit. In choosing to make a deliberate choice not to approach the concert stage with the camera until the characters get nearer, you would think the volume would increase to elevate the scale, but it doesn’t do something as simple as that. It’s unclear if it was an oversight or an outright mistake. Either way, it turns a potentially imposing setting into a set too pedestrian to be totally commendable.
By casting his daughter as the artist everyone shows up to see, Shyamalan is bound to draw criticism for engaging in too much nepotism to ignore. Some will claim it’s to elevate her music career with how many musical numbers there are, but that observation is too short-sighted for a director who operates on multiple wavelengths. As Saleka gains a more prominent role than one may suspect, a movie about a girl-dad who has difficulties balancing his work and being there for his daughter is no different than any other director who has written self-inserts before. And Saleka isn’t too bad a talent either. When given the spotlight, she exudes confidence, and when trapped in the confines of her father’s more narrow images, she can exclaim fear with the necessary levels to believe she’s been doing this longer than she has been.
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