Knock on Wood

I wasn’t fully sure how excited I was for M. Night Shyamalan’s latest until the movie began with a bombastic opening credits sequence, and an unexpected sense of glee seized me that didn’t let go for an hour and 45 minutes. As the closing credits rolled, and the feeling remained, I realized that it was exclusive to a new M. Night experience.

Originally envisioned as a showcase for his singer/songwriter daughter Saleka Shyamalan’s music, Trap is Shyamalan’s latest offering, a tight thriller with a small cast and a non-stop ticking clock that presses tightly on every single one of your nerves – exactly what Shyamalan has continually proven to be his strength. If his recent hits Old and Knock at the Cabin (which weren’t critical favorites but were both profitable) are any indication, this is what he’s good at, and he’s only further honing the skills others might have given up decades ago.

Trap follows Cooper (played by Josh Harnett, most recently seen in Oppenheimer), a doting but strange father of teenage girl Riley (Ariel Donoghue) as they attend a stadium concert for pop superstar Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan). After he notices that every stadium entrance and exit is patrolled by FBI agents, Cooper learns from merch table worker Jamie (Jonathan Langdon) that it’s all part of a sting operation to catch the notorious serial killer known as the Butcher, who’s in attendance at the concert. The catch? Cooper is the Butcher, and now he’s caught in a nigh-impossible situation. A trap, if you will.

Lady Raven’s concert was developed as an Eras Tour-esque show, and as the centerpiece of the movie (and its only advertised setting), it’s perfect. The stadium feels claustrophobic, despite holding 20,000 people, and only feels smaller as the story progresses. It might take a rewatch to fully catch this, but beyond the catchiness of Saleka’s songs and her evocative lyrics, each song is thematically resonant and perfectly placed at each point in the film, a precision I very much admire and respect.

The very act of shaping a movie around your daughter’s burgeoning singing career is sweet in and of itself, but M. Night imbues his protagonist with a similar strength – despite being a psychopathic serial killer, Cooper keeps his two lives separate, and really does love his daughter. He’s the ultimate girl dad, and for M. Night to characterize his protagonist that particular way in this specific film just warms my heart…even if Cooper is an absolutely monstrous human being under the exterior of a well-meaning, bumbling father.

Hartnett plays this perfectly – there’s the built-in moral ambiguity of whether or not you’re supposed to root for the serial killer protagonist, but Hartnett makes it hard to not be on his side, especially when he’s in dad mode. The duality really comes into play when we begin to see his true colors, and then we learn that his stilted delivery of M. Night’s dialogue (a camp Shyamalan staple) is incredibly intentional – it’s playing into the criticisms Shyamalan has received across his entire career, and there’s a reason for it now. Cooper is constantly putting on a performance, whether that’s for his daughter, Jamie the concession worker, or the rest of the world. No matter who he is, there is always a part of him that he’s hiding, and it makes for a fascinating central performance that ranks among Hartnett’s best. As Cooper the dad, he’s sweet and kind, and as Cooper the Butcher, he’s ice-cold and terrifying. Every way Hartnett plays it, there’s something bubbling beneath the surface, and it’s just a matter of time before it comes back out.

The psychology of the situation is interesting to me, and it clearly fascinates Shyamalan as well. Cooper is a highly intelligent murderer, which is where the conflict comes from – after all, if he was outsmarted, there wouldn’t be a movie – and the thrill of the chase is in seeing how he reacts to every new development and exactly how he will outsmart the Feds. There are verbal hints here and there as to why Cooper does what he does, but that’s not necessarily the point; he finds himself pursued by an FBI profiler (Hayley Mills), whose face is mostly unseen, but whose skill makes for an even match. In Cooper’s mind, she represents the general opposition to his actions, but also (for reasons that become clear as the film progresses) everything he stands against, which only further brings out his dark side and makes him desperate, and therefore more dangerous. The causal nature of every person’s actions, no matter how insignificant they might seem the time, is a vital part of the film, and I can imagine would be even more connectively rewarding on a rewatch.

It’s not an exaggeration to say that watching Trap was the most fun I’ve had in a cinema so far this year. It’s a Shyamalan movie, so despite how exciting the premise is, I found myself bracing for the glaring flaw or the downhill moment…but it never came. The tension is elevated with every passing moment, and every character action throws a new wrench into the mix you never could have expected. It’s not “twisty” in the classic Shyamalan sense, but it is unexpected, bringing us places I never expected to go and playing with its structure in a unique way that doesn’t necessarily shatter conventions, but elevates them, using them to constantly escalate the pressure while maintaining a consistently exciting atmosphere.

Believe me when I say that no one is doing it like M. Night Shyamalan. Even if you don’t take into account his obvious evolution as a writer/director, he always goes the extra mile and makes zero concessions with how he goes about it. Trap retains Shyamalan’s penchant for darkness and obsession with humanity, identity, and personhood, but also his trademark wry sense of humor (I was the only one in my theater laughing through the whole thing) and sustained excitement. It always makes me more excited about a project when it’s clear everyone involved had a blast making it, and the fingerprints of fun are all over this movie. It grabbed me and never let go, and it’s my favorite Shyamalan in years. It’s not perfect, but perfection is an unattainable concept designed to make people feel bad about their lack thereof. It only matters what’s perfect for you, and Trap is exactly my kind of movie.

Trap is playing in theaters now.