As you all are probably well aware, I am not the world’s biggest M. Night Shyamalan fan. However, like the rat that keeps receiving electric shocks every time he goes to take the cheese, I keep at it, hoping for some cheesy goodness and only receiving pain for my troubles. I will say this one isn’t so terribly bad, which isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement to be sure. It’s just that when it goes off the rails, it crashes and burns so badly that it essentially nullifies the solid moments that occurred before everything turned to shit.
Josh Hartnett is taking his kid to a concert. Eventually, he learns the arena is slowly being surrounded by cops and FBI agents who are hoping to trap a serial killer named “The Butcher”. Since he is in actuality, said serial killer, he looks for any way to escape, without hopefully ruining his daughter’s night.
The set-up is kind of fun if you don’t think about it too much. I mean, the cops’ big plan is to lock down an entire arena full of tens of thousands of people in hopes of finding one nondescript white dude? Come on.
Most of the amusement comes from the squirrelly way Hartnett tries to outsmart the cops. Using his serial killer charm and good looks, he’s able to gain access to unauthorized areas just by being a nice guy. The smug look on his face when he gets one over on vendors, policemen, and stagehands who allow him to roam free inside the building is often good for a laugh.
This is probably Hartnett’s best performance. He isn’t exactly known for being the most expressive actor in the world, but that suits him nicely here. His banal personality is just right for a serial killer who is trying to act like a normal guy. His little eyebrow raises suggest something sinister lurking just beneath the surface and the look of panic on his face when he feels the cops getting closer is just expressive enough to let the audience know he knows he’s in trouble, but not enough to alert the other characters.
It was also nice to see Hayley (That Darn Cat!) Mills in this. She plays the FBI profiler trying to capture the loving father/serial killer. I guess if anyone could set a parent trap, it’s Hayley Mills.
The way Shyamalan forces himself on the audience in his gratuitous cameos always seems to take me out of his movies. He has another cameo here, but it’s not nearly as egregious as the role he gave his daughter, Saleka Night Shyamalan. She plays the pop singer at the concert, and so much screen time is given to her performances that I have to wonder if M. Night made this as a vehicle for her first and foremost and then worked the serial killer plot around the music numbers. Either way, the gratuitous nepo baby energy takes something out of the film’s sails. (It wouldn’t have been so egregious if she didn’t have her own credit, “Original Songs Written, Produced and Performed by Saleka Night Shyamalan” in the opening credits sequence.)
Had the film remained at the arena, it might’ve been a nice little cat and mouse thriller. It’s in the third act where things really shit the bed once the action shifts to the city. Unfortunately, this is also the stretch of the film where it stops being a vehicle for Shyamalan’s kid’s music career and becomes a showcase for her acting ability (or more accurately, her lack thereof). I may have been able to excuse the gratuitous way he shoehorned her music into the movie. It just really becomes hard to take when he tries to make her the heroine of the piece late in the game. If Shyamalan was content to let Hartnett do his thing, Trap may have worked. It’s when it turns into a blatant vehicle for his daughter that it comes to a crashing halt.
