OK, I’m going to say this right off the bat so you can decide if you want to keep reading, this movie is not good. It is however entertaining enough for the hour and forty-five minutes that it runs. It would not hurt the film at all if it was fifteen minutes shorter, but that would probably mean that the concert sequences and musical performances by co-star Saleka Shyamalan, the daughter of writer/director M. Night Shyamalan. I strongly suspect that more than half of his reason for making the film in the first place was to showcase her.
Movies about serial killers are a dime a dozen. Occasionally they transcend the genre and have something special about them which makes them essential. “The Silence of the Lambs”, “Seven” and “Zodiac” are not found in the discount dozen. Those are the exceptions, more often we get “The Watcher”, “”Copycat”, “Mr. Brooks” and this film. Because this is an M. Night Shyamalan film, you expect something of a twist in the storytelling. He is famous for the twist endings of some of his films, but this movie starts with the twist. The serial killer is a loving Dad, who is taking his tween daughter to a concert by a pop culture phenomena. It’s not really a spoiler to tell you there is a “Trap” in play, it’s right in the title. This movie plays with conventions only slightly, and it does not do much to build any tension, except in the fact that we are sympathizing with the serial killer for most of the film.
There are a couple of reasons this works. First the film is told almost entirely from the perspective of the killer, at least until the third act. Also, we are spared seeing any of his crimes, they are mildly described and we get a discrete crime scene photo, so we don’t know much about how horrible he is until later in the story. The third thing that serves the purpose of making us root for evil, is the performance of the actor cast as “The Butcher”. Josh Hartnett is solid as a doting father, and when he is prowling through the arena, looking for ways to escape, he is convincingly clever (and of course conveniently lucky). If there is anything that holds the movie together, it is his performance. Otherwise, the film is a series of cliches and tropes that don’t seem to be written in a very interesting way.
For the movie to work, you have to suspend your disbelief repeatedly. Here is a list of just a few of the lazy writing moments; there is a pop concert by a major star, at an arena in a big city, in the early afternoon, the serial killer gets information first from the loosest lipped venue employee on the premises, when challenged for a card that would prove he was at a particular location, he magically discovers one, every radio contact he listens in on is timed perfectly with his next move. Those are just the plot points that stretch credulity, the concert setting itself offers us a whole bunch of impossibilities. For instance, in a crowd of twenty thousand, only three thousand of which are men who could be the killer, they all are using the same bathroom at the same time. I went to a Katy Perry concert several years ago, with similar demographics, and when I went to the men’s room at Staples Center, I was alone.
If there is a twist to the story, it is what happens when the location changes. Had I known the connection of the pop star to the creator of the film, I think I would have seen her plot line coming. I did not realize that “Lady Raven” was the daughter of the director until I saw the credits. Halfway through the movie, the trap is behind us but there is still an hour of the film. Things really go off the rails then, and the exposition dump at the climax, tries to explain how this all could have come together. It feels completely tacked on.
Ariel Donoghue is cute as Riley, the daughter of our serial killer. Alison Pill shows up late in the film and she has the thankless role that is supposed to get us to the conclusion of the movie. Disney child star Hayley Mills has grown into the role of wizened expert profiler, and ninety percent of her performance takes place over walkie talkies. Saleka Shyamalan is a better singer than she is an actress, and that is unfortunate because her character is critical when we get to the midway point of the film, and she struggles to be convincing.
I did not hate this movie the way I did “Longlegs” from a week or two ago, I was just indifferent to it. I tried to ignore all the shortcuts that were being taken and just enjoy the story. Walking out of the theater, I could see all the things wrong with the movie, but I paid to see it, I wanted to have a good time, and I allowed myself the amount of space needed to be partially entertained by this concoction. Maybe I should see Mr. Brooks again.
Kirkham A Movie A Day 