Writer-director M. Night Shyamalan (Knocking at the Cabin, Old, Glass) and narrative logic have rarely been on speaking terms.
Shyamalan has been downright antagonistic toward anything resembling narrative logic. He's a filmmaker primarily obsessed with the sensorial effects shot composition, editing, and sound can generate rather than how they fit or contribute to coherent plotting. Not surprisingly, Shyamalan's filmography has suffered critically whenever it's been evaluated by the general rules associated with dramatic storytelling.
Even then, however, Shyamalan remains a singular filmmaker, his self-financed works are constructed to elicit an almost endless series of surprises, some earned, many not, but always welcome, especially in comparison with the work of more studio-bound or -linked filmmakers where narrative logic reigns supreme.
Shyamalan’s latest, the simply titled Trap, won’t dissuade his detractors, but in Cooper (by turns amiably and terrifyingly played by oft-underused Josh Hartnett), Shyamalan has found a near-perfect representation of the mythic American serial killer, a 40-something, suburban family man by day, a detail-obsessed killer, dubbed, somewhat unimaginatively, the “Butcher” by the media, by night. Those two lives, divided and compartmentalized for most of Cooper’s adult life, collide in Trap (a title the late, lamented Admiral Ackbar would admire).
Set primarily at a music concert headlined by Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan, M. Night’s musically gifted daughter) in the elder Shyamalan’s favorite city, Philadelphia, Trap centers on Cooper, a dutiful, attentive dad by any definition, and his tween daughter, Riley (Ariel Donoghue). A reward for Riley’s strong academic record and — in a side development that adds a level of poignancy and sympathy — to offset the bullying she’s experienced in school, the Lady Raven concert is the end-all, be-all for girls of a certain age and their slightly unwilling parental figures.
Per the title and the give-almost-everything-away trailer, the concert also doubles as a logic-defying “trap” by state and federal authorities to catch the notorious Butcher (so-called because he surgically dismembers his victims). With 12 known victims, the Butcher’s spree has left Philadelphia’s law enforcement baffled as to his identity or how to stop him, except, of course, they’ve obtained a vaguely defined clue that the Butcher will be attending the concert so they decide to turn the concert venue into an enormous (man) trap, sending a heavy police presence to guard entrances and exits, placing snipers on the roofs, and otherwise ensuring the Butcher’s chance of escaping are next to nil.
Dotted with Shyamalan’s penchant for black humor, Trap inexorably tightens the metaphorical noose around Cooper’s next, forcing him into a cat-and-mouse game (he’s the mouse) with the authorities. As he probes potential weak spots in the FBI's operation on frequent bathroom or snack breaks, he also has to keep Riley from suspecting anything’s amiss or spoiling the obvious good time she’s having watching her favorite pop star perform.
Although there's nothing in Trap that could be described as a typical M. Night Shyamalan premise-subverting “twist, it does take several more predictably unpredictable plot turns. There’s rarely a plot turn, though, that passes even the most generous definition of plausibility. Once Cooper reaches what appears to be an impasse (i.e., imminent capture), Trap fully embraces its reality-resistant premise, layering one giddy absurdity after another, until finally ending on an unexpectedly moving, character-revealing two-hander between Cooper and a character whose identity won’t be spoiled here. Shyamalan suggests Cooper might be a monster, but he’s a relatable monster, the result of flawed programming (biological and parental).
Visually, Shyamalan remains a talented, skillful director, easily generating suspense from a collection of off-kilter, shallow compositions, including straight-to-camera line deliveries, finely tuned editing, and performance-focused cinematography, and the result rarely, if ever, flags. It’s only when Trap switches locations for the fourth or fifth time that narrative momentum begins to slow down. Even then, it doesn’t last long as Shyamalan ably restarts the tension and suspense, placing Cooper, among others, in varying levels of danger.
Buoyed by a tonally balanced, camp-straddling performance from Hartnett, a strongly persuasive turn by newcomer Ariel Donoghue as Cooper’s initially adoring, later increasingly suspicious daughter, and Saleka Shyamalan’s assured performance as a pop diva (she wrote and performed her own songs, each one a banger), plus a cheeky turn by one-time Parent Trap star Hayley Mills as a world-weary, seen-it-all FBI profiler, and Trap emerges as Shyamalan's most purely enjoyable film since Split introduced moviegoers to the Shyamalan-verse eight years ago.
Trap opens today, only in movie theaters, via Warner Bros. Visit the official site for locations and showtimes.