Trap

I’ve apparently made it my life’s mission to see every crappy M. Night Shyamalan project ever made. It’s become a much harder task in recent years, as he and his family seem almost ubiquitous. His pace has increased. He’s gotten involved in television with Wayward Pines and Servant. His daughters are writing, directing, acting and singing. And for some reason Hollywood still sees him and his hokey ideas as viable. His “high concept” films that have one “big” idea that he has to somehow make into a film that lasts 100 minutes. And, in most cases, that idea is interesting by falls apart in the execution. But, in the case of Trap, the whole idea is really, really stupid. Unless, of course, that was M. Night’s intention. To make an outwardly absurd movie whose over-the-top acting and incredibly dumb situations were made to hold up a mirror to our… Who are we kidding? This is the same man who puts himself and his absolutely atrocious acting on display in each and every one of his films. He is not a self-aware person. At least not enough to make a sneaky smart film.

The city of Philadelphia (which is actually Canada) has a serial killer problem. He is creatively named The Butcher. The first sign that M. Night is kind of half-assing this one. The concept here is that there is a big pop concert at what I think we’re meant to believe is the Wells Fargo Center in Philly. And somehow the cops know that The Butcher will be attending the show, so, in conjunction with the pop star, Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan), they’ve set a trap for The Butcher. A trap. Get it? They plan to wait until he gets into the venue, surround it and not let any man of a certain age — based on the FBI profiler’s profile of the killer and some scattered photographic evidence — back out without getting checked. What if he showed up late? Or not at all? Simple, right? Once in the arena our serial killer and father, Coop (Josh Hartnett), starts to get suspicious that something is up when every PA officer and all their tanks roll up and block every exit, and men around his age start to get pulled out of their seats to be interrogated. So, where does he go to get info and try to escape? Well, that would be the most well-informed t-shirt vendor in the history of t-shirt vendors. Yup, this dude who sells Lady Raven merch seems to have every detail of the entire plan, including, somehow, a download of the entire psychological profile of the serial killer as discerned by the FBI profiler, Dr. Josephine Grant (Hayley Mills), who just seems to wander the venue like a ghost pointing at people. It’s a really, really weak crutch to hang your entire plot on.

We spend the rest of the main body of the film watching Coop constantly leave his daughter in her seat to try to investigate and penetrate the barrier the cops have created. At one point a performer coincidently pops out of the floor right next to their seat and he suggests to his daughter that they jump into the hole and walk around in the bowels of the arena — which would definitely cause her to miss the concert. This, after making 1001 excuses to leave his seat to get merch, get food, pee, etc. She looks at him oddly, but isn’t like “Dad, you’re insane, what the fuck are you talking about you total psycho?” The dude is acting really sketchy and would do nothing but call attention to himself. In reality. But, hey, he has his merch-selling friend who he can keep going back to to get really insightful intel. So he’s good. I think M. Night thinks this is some sort of cat and mouse situation. But it’s not. I think he thinks this is a clever, taught situation. It is not. I think he thinks he’s doing Hartnett a favor by asking him to act kind of goofy-crazy. He’s not. It’s a quirk of his directing that he asks his “bad guy” actors to act in this amped up, unrealistic way. Almost cartoonish in their facial expressions and actions. Comic book characters in what is otherwise the “real” world. It’s a pretty odd performance, which feels like it’s not in the same movie he’s in. There is no helping his daughter, Saleka’s, acting, however. She’s actually a decent singer, and the songs she performs feel realistic and appropriately poppy. Which, honestly, is hard to do. But it’s tough to get past the nepotism when she tries to “act.”

Anyway, Coop runs around stealing key cards, convincing people that his daughter has cancer in order to get her up on stage and generally plots and schemes to get out of the venue without being arrested. All while some dude named Spencer is tied up in his basement presumably ready to be butchered. And why is Coop the way he is? This firefighter and family man? Well, his mother, of course. She maybe didn’t love him enough? Oh, and he has OCD. Which I’m not sure contributes to someone being a serial killer, but M. Night isn’t really interested in anything other than the puzzle of getting this person out of the concert arena. It all unfolds in a repetitive and ultimately dumb kind of way, which somehow ends up with Lady Raven locking herself in Coops bathroom in this house. A bathroom with a newer construction flimsy door that this firefighter — who, mind you, busts through doors for a living — can’t seem to break down. It’s absolutely insane. Also, the wife character (Alison Pill) seems like she’s out of Little House on the Prairie or something with her weird, old-fashioned outfits and 1950s shaky-dog energy. Another anomalous choice by M. Night with an actress who is otherwise interesting. I do think the very end is supposed to be his “twist” that he almost always employs, but it’s not a twist at all. It’s just kind of a… well, it’s nothing. Other than him setting up a possible sequel. Which can hardly be something people are scrambling for.