In the middle of M. Night Shyamalan’s new thriller, Trap, a young girl gets the chance of a lifetime to dance onstage with her idol, a singer known as Lady Raven, portrayed by Shyamalan’s daughter Saleka. The girl is naturally nervous, but a stage manager reassures her, saying, “It’s not about being good; it’s about having fun!” This line also serves as advice for the audience, who may have certain expectations from a Shyamalan film—be it a chilling twist (The Sixth Sense), confusing plot elements (Lady in the Water), or something so absurd it becomes laughable (The Village). However, Trap invites viewers to enjoy the ride and laugh along with it rather than be frightened or confused.
Shyamalan himself described the film’s concept as “if The Silence of the Lambs happened at a Taylor Swift concert,” a terrifying scenario that also sounds like a dark joke, more likely to appear in a Batman comic than in real life. Consequently, Trap is more humorous than horrifying, with the plot shape-shifting between sinister and absurd—an approach that seems intentional. The movie doesn’t aim to be “good” in a traditional sense but rather aims to provide viewers with a wild and entertaining experience.
The film’s success largely hinges on Josh Hartnett’s performance. The actor, enjoying a resurgence in his career following his role in Oppenheimer last year, stars as Cooper, a father who takes his daughter Riley (played by Ariel Donoghue) to a Lady Raven concert. However, Cooper has a dark secret—he’s a serial killer known as “The Butcher,” a fact that’s only a surprise if you haven’t seen any of the film’s trailers. The concert is actually an elaborate trap set by authorities to capture Cooper, who must find a way to escape without arousing suspicion, especially from Riley. Hartnett shines as he navigates Cooper’s dual personas, moving seamlessly from an awkwardly affectionate father to a calm and calculated fugitive. As Cooper realizes the increasing difficulty of leaving the concert with his daughter, Hartnett infuses the character with subtle anxiety—his smiles become strained, his lies more convoluted, and his posture stiffens, enough for Riley to sense that something is wrong.
Hartnett’s portrayal is key to unlocking the film’s unique appeal. Trap may have its share of plot holes, but it’s far from mindless. Shyamalan skillfully balances tension and humor by keeping the story anchored in Cooper’s perspective. The film suggests that to a serial killer like Cooper, what most people see as normal is actually strange and perhaps even amusing. Cooper seems to relish the challenge of weaving through the arena, creating distractions that simultaneously delight him and disturb others, all while trying to navigate a crowd of concertgoers and law enforcement. His interactions with others are awkward and stilted, with strange pauses, as if he’s always one step ahead in a world that moves too slowly for him. The result is a film that’s oddly funny, right down to a mid-credits scene designed for laughs. Cooper’s ridiculous maneuvers in and out of restricted areas while returning to Riley are reminiscent of a heightened version of the restaurant scene in Mrs. Doubtfire, and the plot twists and turns in unexpected ways, each time revealing Shyamalan’s gleeful manipulation of the narrative.
Like Shyamalan’s recent work, Trap draws on everyday fears about parenting, embedding them in an otherwise outlandish story. Cooper’s psychopathy stems from a troubled relationship with his mother, yet he has managed to be a good father to Riley. At the concert, he’s frustrated that his identity as The Butcher threatens to spoil Riley’s fun, especially when she needed a break after being alienated by her friends. Trap explores the idea that while parents may know their children better than anyone else, they cannot always control what happens to them, protect them from harm, or avoid hurting them inadvertently. Despite the film’s efforts, this poignant message feels somewhat underdeveloped as the plot progresses. The tension surrounding whether Cooper will be caught overshadows the emotional weight of Riley’s strained relationship with her father.
Shyamalan once described his film Lady in the Water, which was a box office flop and widely panned by critics, as a kind of “jazz”—a chaotic mix of elements that doesn’t necessarily follow traditional narrative rules. This description also fits Trap, a film that embraces its disorderly nature, with offbeat, seemingly out-of-tune moments that might alienate viewers looking for a conventional horror movie. Yet, the film’s oddities come together to form a cohesive whole, and its peculiarities are strangely satisfying, especially at this stage in Shyamalan’s career. At its core, Trap is quintessentially Shyamalan—a film about a serial killer that ends up being endearingly ridiculous. Now, that’sa twist.
