A couple of weeks ago I made the time to go to my (generally neglected) screening room in Panchshila Park for a few evenings, and watch some films by myself – after carefully picking titles from my OTT watchlists that I thought might fit my mood. This worked out quite well – the films watched included Send Help (mentioned in this post), Richard Linklater's Hit Man, A Different Man, and the 1956 adaptation of one of my favourite novels, A Kiss Before Dying. But possibly the most riveting experience for me during this stretch was M Night Shyamalan’s 2024 thriller Trap, with its premise (no spoiler: this is revealed in the first 10-15 minutes) of a serial-killer-cum-family-man learning that a trap has been set for him at a pop concert. Cooper (Josh Hartnett) is accompanying his adolescent daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) to the show, the star of which – and the cynosure of teen eyes – is Lady Raven (played by Shyamalan’s daughter Saleka, who wrote and performed the film’s soundtrack). Then things happen to make him feel very paranoid. 
What was really unusual (for me) is that I was sucked into the world of Trap within the opening seconds by its music – as the song “Don’t Wanna Be Yours” (one of Saleka’s many compositions) plays over the stylishly designed opening credits. It normally takes me some time, and some re-listening, to appreciate a music track, but the effect was immediate here. And I enjoyed the aural segue at the end of the titles, with young Riley (in the car with her dad on their way to the concert) singing the same number in a shakier, quavering, excited-teen way.
It is silly to assume a film will be great because it begins well, but at this point I was already feeling the familiar, visceral excitement that I have felt with some favourite films by other directors – Brian De Palma being an obvious example – whose tradition Shyamalan sort-of follows in. I had a sixth sense that this was going to go well. And it did.
As I have probably said in earlier write-ups on Shyamalan’s films (especially Unbreakable and Split), even his “flawed” or bordering-on-ludicrous work can be more stimulating (in some ways at least) than the solid, Consistently Good work of many other directors. As is the case with practically all his films, there is some clunky dialogue in Trap, and at least one case of seriously implausible (if not outright stupid) behaviour by a character, in an early scene that’s essential for the narrative to proceed – but even as I was aware of this convenience-device, it didn’t affect my engagement with the film; emotion overrode rationality. I loved the pacing, the sense of claustrophobia, and Josh Hartnett’s performance – the old trope of creating some anxiety for the bad guy by putting us in his shoes is well executed here. For me the film was at its best in the first 50 or so minutes when the setting is the concert, but it maintained the overall momentum, even if the intensity sags for a while in the second half.
I also liked Saleka’s music *a lot*, and thought it worked very well within the story; I don't agree with the criticism that this was purely an ego project or a “concert movie” that Shyamalan made as a showcase for his daughter (presumably at the expense of the narrative).
And, small as Hayley Mills’s role was, it was nice to see her after a long time – witty casting of an actress still perhaps best known for The Parent Trap, in a film about a trapped parent.
Looking it up online, Trap seems to have been a polarising film, which again is usually the case with MNS. But I wasn’t too surprised to see that Cahiers du Cinema (which still has a tradition of bold/off-kilter choices and certain forms of auteur-worship) had it on their top 10 films list for 2024. Also that it was one of Luca Guadagnini’s favourites that year.
Tellingly, I am still thinking in very positive terms about Trap many days later. This was interesting, because with films that have a kinetic, emotional effect on you while you’re watching them – but which are also sketchy in matters of logic or character behaviour – you tend to feel sheepish when thinking about them later in the cold light of day; you dwell more on the implausibilities/plot holes. But that wasn’t the case here – Trap actually grew in stature for me, and I revisited a couple of the more affecting moments, such as a scene where Lady Raven asks her audience to think of someone they need to forgive, and to put their phone lights on if they have “released” them. This leads to a lovely hushed moment where hundreds of lights in the darkened hall go on, while Cooper (who is being a fond dad, saying “Wow” at the right moments to please his little girl, but is obviously also preoccupied) looks around at the transformed setting. Followed by another good, gentle song, “Release”.
(Incidentally,
this scene - the visuals, the music, the use of lights in a dim setting
- reminded me of the lovely moment in De Palma’s Phantom of the Paradise where Jessica Harper sings “Old Souls” in her resonant voice.)
P.S. even Shyamalan’s cameo was bearable this time, not annoying like it sometimes has been in the past.
(Related post: about Shyamalan's Split)
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