M Night Shyamalan is one of the best technical directors out there. He also insists on screenwriting, with mixed results. As a technician, though, he’s a joy to watch. If you want to nerd out about film construction on a ‘what the camera is doing’ and ‘how things are blocked’ level, Trap is the film for you. A technically stunning thriller for two thirds of its runtime that still finds enough excellent moments in its otherwise subpar third act. 

It’s another high concept thriller, a clear elevator pitch of a movie from the person that brought you ‘the beach that makes you old’ as well as ‘I see dead people’. This time, a concert is a trap. Suspend your disbelief for a moment. Ready? Because this doesn’t really make sense but it is fun.

A mega popstar in the vein of Taylor Swift is playing an extra concert, but this concert is a trap. You see, a serial killer is going to be attending the concert and the whole event becomes a way of catching him. The show must go on but the trap is closing in. The whole leap of logic where they know the serial killer is going to be there is a lot, and what they know and don’t know about his identity is just based on plot convenience. A motif is security taking people away to be questioned while we look on, knowing the serial killer hasn’t been caught yet. They know enough about his description to pull people from the crowd but not enough to put the killer into immediate danger. Convenience is the rule.

It is a lot of narrative legwork to get to this point, and the film makes the wise decision to shrug it all off. This is a slick piece of filmmaking that operates like a shark: it keeps moving and it stays alive, not only that, it thrives. Later, when we move out of the pressure cooker, the film has to start explaining itself and, when attempting to tie off loose ends, ties both shoes together and stumbles along. Sure, it’s a mess, but you’re amazed that it doesn’t just fall over. There’s something to champion in the balancing act, though it would be better if it was just consistently good as opposed to flirting with disaster in the final act.

The rest of the film works because it’s made up of smart filmmaking choices. The sting operation at a concert is already promising, the location being dramatically interesting and the show being its own narrative hook. Our performer is Lady Raven, played by the director’s daughter, Saleka Shyamalan. She’s a convincing popstar and actually writes the music. It’s more music as aesthetic — giving the idea of the kind of artist she’s supposed to be rather than something boldly original — but it’s perfect for the film. You buy her as popstar with pop songs. They feel right and they are also able to take centre stage in the diegesis without taking centre stage from the narrative. Later on, the film asks too much of her and her role becomes less successful. However, what does work is very impressive. 

This is all without mentioning the best choice: our protagonist is the serial killer. Josh Hartnett plays a goofy dad, Cooper, taking his daughter (an excellent Ariel Donoghue) to the concert of her dreams. Soon, though, it is revealed to us that he’s the serial killer they are trying to trap. His performance is delectable. There’s this stunning balance of endearing and believable dad while always maintaining this undercurrent of monstrous evil, or just something sinister. He sells both at the same time, a really flexible and unnerving turn that has you rooting for him just because the performance is so interesting. Much of the film is built like a modern Hitman (the video game series) level — before it becomes a Hitman Absolution level towards the end — and watching our killer pull of ingenious, instinctual gambits to get away with it all is so compelling. You’re not on his side but you marvel at his trickery, wanting to see how he pulls it all off.

This goes back to the filmmaking prowess. This is truly Hitchcockian stuff. It’s shot on film by Sayombhu Mukdeeprom, who already stunned this year with Challengers. There’s a precision and creativity to the filming, aided by Shymalan’s instincts. It flows so well, a collection of virtuosic flourishes put together to make something propulsive and seamless. So much is done with framing, with focus work, with movement. It’s masterclass stuff, the kind of leading with the camera filmmaking that you do get in Hitchcock. It’s more modern, more showy, but the principles of suspense filmmaking are the same. 

When it’s working, this is utterly stunning. It is such an engaging performance in such an impressively constructed film. And then it runs out of narrative and doesn’t quite know what to do. Explanations limit it, added complications get in the way and it does sag under the weight of implausibility. Yet, because the foundations are so good, it keeps finding ways to be amazing. There’ll be another perfect shot, another compelling escape against the odds (narratively ridiculous but a lot of fun on screen), or just another great piece of acting. The film is so good for so long that it accrues so much good will. It’s never bad, also. It gets endearingly silly and definitely takes many wrong turns. But the driving is still so flashy, so technically amazing, even if the car is going the wrong way.