Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

Director: Tim Burton
Starring: Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Catherine O' Hara, Jenna Ortega, Justin Theroux, Monica Bellucci, Willem Dafoe, Arthur Conti, Santiago Cabrera, Danny DeVito, Nick Kellington
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

There's always this tendency to assume the worst when a beloved property like Beetlejuice is resurrected decades after the original's release. Years of rumors and false starts weigh on fans who can only hope it's not just a cash grab and some creative thought went into continuing the original's legacy. This concern is especially real with Tim Burton's intended sequel, which seemed perpetually stuck in pre-production since the early 90's. 

As time passes, expectations fall, which is why it comes as such a relief that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice resembles the kind of follow-up audiences wanted but didn't think they'd ever get. Signaling a welcome return to form for Burton, it rekindles flickers of his former glory throughout, while still looking and feeling like the Beetlejuice we know. The director's recent work on Netflix's Wednesday, could almost be seen as a prelude to this in that his twisted imagination is once again freed up to run amok with fewer boundaries.

It's 2024 and Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) is now a psychic medium hosting her own supernatural talk show, Ghost House, where she contacts the dead. But her sullenly skeptical teen daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) isn't interested, still harboring grief and resentment over the death of Lydia's husband and her father, Richard (Santiago Cabrera). And as Lydia's slimy TV producer boyfriend Rory (Justin Theroux) prepares to take their relationship to another level, professional artist and Deetz matriarch Delia (Catherine O' Hara) breaks the news to Lydia that her father Charles (played by Jeffrey Jones in the original) just died in a horrific accident. 

With the family reconvening in Winter River for Charles' funeral and preparing to sell their old home, Astrid falls for local teen Jeremy Frazier (Arthur Conti) while Lydia finds out the hard way that Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton) isn't done with her yet. Now working as an "Afterlife Manager" on the other side, he's being stalked by ex-wife Dolores (Monica Belucci), a murderous soul sucking cult member being hunted by action star turned ghost detective Wolf Jackson (Willem Dafoe). But when Lydia realizes Astrid's in danger and only Beetlejuice can help, she's reminded that any deal with this mischievous demon comes at a high price.

Recognizing there's such a thing as overkill, Burton strategically uses the Beetlejuice character, both in terms of screen time and his overall purpose. Of course, we all know he's keeping Keaton in his back pocket until the ghoul's ready to unleash his goofy madness, or more accurately, has a reason to. And writers Alfred Gough and Miles Millar come up with a good one, putting the now middle-aged Lydia at a place in life that makes sense given her past and tumultuous connection to Beetlejuice. 

Now a famous TV star, Lydia's addicted to pills, dating a creep and unable to connect with daughter Astrid on any level, particularly when it comes to discussing the latter's deceased dad. And if there's a benefit to have waited this long for a sequel, it's that Ryder's now old enough for her character to struggle parenting a version of her rebellious younger self. That she's played by a perfectly cast Ortega is only icing on the cake. 

While Keaton and Ryder have publicly expressed their desire to reprise these roles for a while, it's no secret the addition of Ortega is what finally got this greenlit. As strong a match for Astrid as Ryder originally was for Lydia, the pair's natural chemistry consistently shines through in every scene they share as mother and daughter. And though this iteration mostly plays it safe, Ortega's Astrid is given the film's bleakest, most compelling subplot, serving as the primary catalyst for Lydia and her stripe suited nemesis's reunion. 

Catherine O' Hara delightfully hams it up as Delia, spending most of the running length in hysterics over Charles' death, while also remaining strangely unfazed by it, keeping with Burton's quirky, bemused take on the macabre that's punctuated much of his previous work. And while there was no chance of Jeffrey Jones returning as Charles, it's a treat watching how brilliantly Burton works around it, using photos, paintings and an extremely clever animated stop-motion sequence to help make him an even bigger presence dead than alive.

Once Beetlejuice is fully involved, Keaton runs with it, and if family drama justifiably monopolizes the film's early goings, he dictates the rest by recapturing Juice's brand of sarcastic quips and physical comedy. The plot involving his murderous ex Dolores is probably the script's weakest, but it's still well executed, notable for a brief but memorable black-and-white flashback depicting the couples' sordid history. And when the action shifts into the Afterlife and takes all the characters along, it picks up steam before arriving at a wacky, divisive ending that really flies off the rails without veering far from the franchise's roots. 

This doesn't approach prime Beetlejuice or Edward Scissorhands territory, but it's fun seeing everyone slide back into their roles as we revisit a universe that hasn't changed much at all. Between Danny Elfman's score, the similar production design and a continued emphasis on practical effects, Burton clears the toughest hurdle by recognizing any legacy sequel's biggest competition is its own nostalgia. By effectively tailoring the story to present day, he forgoes cheap fan service, instead crafting a worthy successor that will leave viewers wanting even more.

Strange Darling

Director: JT Mollner
Starring: Willa Fitzgerald, Kyle Gallner, Barbara Hershey, Ed Begley Jr., Madisen Beaty, Bianca Santos, Eugenia Kuzmina, Steven Michael Quezada, Denise Grayson, Sheri Foster, Jason Patric, Giovanni Ribisi
Running Time:  96 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

While there's a jarring reversal that occurs midway through writer/director JT Mollner's excitingly original horror thriller Strange Darling, it's almost unfair to categorize it as a "twist." Just the very word falsely implies a gotcha gimmick intended to sacrifice story for shock when the truth's hiding in plain sight the entire time. It's the story's structure that throws us, but what's most surprising is how a concept this clever hasn't yet been explored to the extent Mollner does here.

Those looking for profoundly complex theories about consent, misogyny or gender issues would be barking up the wrong tree since this isn't trying to tell us anything we don't already know. Instead, Mollner implies we often choose to look the other way, falling into some of the same traps his characters do. The impact comes not from what the film says or even how, but that it even bothers to ask. Structurally, there's a lot to take in, but the pieces fit together, eventually reaching a crucial juncture where it grabs hold and doesn't let go.

Introduced as a dramatization of an infamous serial killer's murder spree that climaxes in rural Oregon, we see a bloody and injured woman called the "Lady" (Willa Fitzgerald) running out of the woods in  red hospital scrubs. It turns out she's being chased by a mustachioed, shotgun wielding man credited as the "Demon" (Kyle Gallner) who follows her to the farmhouse of aging hippie wilderness couple Frederik (Ed Begley Jr.) and Genevieve (Barbara Hershey). 

When the Lady seeks refuge at their residence, the Demon closes in, with the film flashing back to the pair's one-night stand at a local hotel that led to this. But the shocks are provided by what happens in between, their feud now culminating in a volatile encounter that will transform this cat-and-mouse game into a grueling, high stakes battle for their lives.

Kicking off with a barrage of title cards that would make Tarantino proud and a Texas Chainsaw-inspired voice over provided by Jason Patric, Mollner has us questioning early whether what we're seeing is based on real life events. In this era of true crime obsession it's easy to believe certain details could have been, as his six nonlinear chapters lay the groundwork for surprising developments that will have many clamoring for a rewatch in its chronologically accurate order. 

The picture was shot on 35 mm film and you can tell, with first time cinematographer Giovanni Ribisi (yes, him) giving this a beautifully washed-out look that perfectly aligns with Mollner's retro aesthetic. Though events take place in 2022, the year could just as easily be 1972, save for the presence of iPhones and few other contemporary details. And a haunting soundtrack from Z Berg prominently features an iconic Keith Carradine assisted cover of "Love Hurts," along with a variety of other acoustic AM radio ballads that further convey its throwback sensibility. 

As a chilling 24-hour account of a serial killer's rampage, it's fascinating and darkly humorous, with many narrative detours evoking a more heightened response than if the timeline was traditionally presented. Subverting expectations to this level just wouldn't work without Mollner's jumbled storytelling device, which the studio inexplicably wanted to scrap before cameras rolled.  

Reacher actress Willa Fitzgerald's breakthrough performance as the Lady constantly challenges viewer's notions of how other characters read her, as an already toxic sexual encounter spirals dangerously out of control. The Demon isn't exactly all he appears to be either, with Gallner playing on certain assumptions of male loners before twisting and turning them beyond recognition with his best big screen outing yet. Hershey and Begley Jr. are a welcome presence, bringing some much needed levity to their smaller roles while also partaking in one of more impressive breakfasts you'll ever see.  

The film's hypnotizing opening and closing shots can't be viewed in a vacuum since their full context will eventually reveal more than our perceptions trick us into believing. What unfolds between the two characters only scratches the surface of this oddly compelling disasterpiece told from a different, unexplored perspective. Violent, unsettling and emotionally charged, you'd be hard pressed to find another recent thriller that takes the daring risks this does, with most of them paying off in disturbingly brilliant ways.

Wolfs

Director: Jon Watts
Starring: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Amy Ryan, Austin Abrams, Poorna Jagannathan, Zlatko Burić, Richard Kind, Frances McDormand
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

Its title may be a grammatical nightmare, but writer/director Jon Watts' Wolfs finds two of the world's biggest movie stars reunited in roles that only further confirm their value. An action comedy throwback to when that genre routinely packed theaters, a project like this almost feels like a complete outlier now. But tight direction and a pair of immensely enjoyable lead performances end up being enough to temporarily breathe life into what could have been a paint-by-numbers effort. 

Built around a straightforward premise, George Clooney plays a cold, emotionally detached "fixer" not unlike his avenging protagonist in 2007's Oscar nominated Michael Clayton. Only this time, he's more likely to break the law than uphold it, remaining meticulously obsessive until an unexpected visitor forces him to face the possibility his skill set isn't as unique as he thought. 

That this interloper is played by Brad Pitt enables the actors to take dry, sarcastic jabs at each other, successfully calling back to the chemistry the duo shared in the Oceans films. While both are capable of turning an eye roll or sideways glance into pure hilarity with their understated expressions, what develops is an effective action bromance with bickering characters who can't stand just how alike they really are. 

Panicked Manhattan District Attorney Margaret (Amy Ryan) calls the number of an anonymous professional fixer (Clooney) when a young man she took back to her hotel room ends up dead. After arriving and calmly taking stock of the scenario, the fixer asks Margaret some questions before starting the clean-up process, assuring her everything will be fine if she does exactly what he says. Unfortunately, they're interrupted by a second unnamed fixer (Pitt) who was given instructions by the hotel's owner Pam (Frances McDormand) to sweep this situation under the rug. 

While neither "lone wolf" trusts the other, Pam orders the two men work together for the sake of protecting the hotel's reputation. But while debating how to best solve this issue and dispose of the body, one of them makes a discovery that reveals something more dangerously complicated. So if the feuding fixers want to avoid getting killed, they'll need to stop arguing long enough to rectify what's suddenly become a gigantic mess.

From the initial tone and execution, it's easy to understand how audiences could be roped into thinking this will be a deadly serious crime drama. And even when Pitt first appears, lingering doubts still surround that assumption, as Watts smoothly lulls us into a situation that's about to spin way out of control. 

With few expressions and even fewer words, Clooney's character retains complete control, at least until Pitt's fixer arrives and things go sideways. Neither takes kindly to a competitor invading their territory, but one of the better aspects of Watts' script is how it suggests an imaginary underground of criminal fixers who think only they can do this dirty work.

As their dilemma grows more complex, levels are revealed that go well beyond a prominent D.A's hotel indiscretion. And much of it involves protecting an unnamed asset referred to as the Kid (Austin Abrams), who's carrying something valuable enough to cause huge concern. Abrams' manic, livewire performance is the film's highlight, providing the perfect foil to Clooney and Pitt's exasperated fixers, who just can't agree on how to handle him. 

An excitingly chaotic and hilarious chase through New York City streets is Watts' pivotal set piece and it doesn't disappoint, nor do encounters with a no-nonsense medic (Poorna Jagannathan) and a Croatian mobster (Zlatko Burić) whose daughter's wedding they accidentally crash. And the great Richard Kind briefly pops up in an amusingly memorable scene as the Kid's Frank Sinatra-obsessed dad. 

For supposed experts in this narrow field, these fixers are pretty sloppy, though there's nothing normal about either the job at hand or this reluctant partnership.  How similar they are is a detail everyone notices but them, creating a humorous dynamic where their oversized egos prevent them from realizing they're stronger together than alone.

Forced to begrudgingly get on the same page in the final act, it's to make a moral choice that requires them abandoning the rule book to embrace their consciences instead. Without time for debate or wiggle room, it becomes glaringly apparent that being a lone wolf carries baggage neither considered. Ending on a cliffhanger of sorts, Wolfs is the kind of film you wouldn't mind getting a sequel to, if only so Clooney and Pitt can have a rematch.                                      

Cuckoo

Director: Tilman Singer
Starring: Hunter Schafer, Jan Bluthardt, Martin Csokis, Jessica Henwick, Dan Stevens, Mila Lieu, Greta Fernández, Proschat Madani, Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey, Konrad Singer, Kalin Morrow
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

The highest compliment that can be paid to writer/director Tilman Singer's unusually ambitious Cuckoo is how this German/U.S. co-production feels more like a foreign horror film than your typical mainstream American release. It doesn't take long to notice there's something noticeably different about Singer's semi-international feature, which injects its bizarre story with genuine suspense and scares, regardless of how seriously you choose to take it. Every shot serves a purpose, only making it easier to buy this ludicrous but clever premise that plays fairly within the rules of its own demented universe. 

Even when the wild explanations start coming, Singer weaves together a compelling psychological thriller few would assume was possible based on its wacky plot description alone. Connecting on nearly every level, it absorbs us in the isolation of a teen protagonist whose own family wants little to do with her. But the feeling's mutual, up to and including when a lunatic's dangerous supernatural experiment wrecks havoc.

Following her mother's recent death, a still grieving 17-year-old Gretchen (Hunter Schafer) moves to the Bavarian Alps in Germany to live with her father Luis (Marton Csokis), stepmother Beth (Jessica Henwick) and mute half-sister Alma (Mila Lieu). Settling in a resort town to help build a new hotel run by the mysteriously intrusive, ever present Herr König (Dan Stevens), the family sees Gretchen's arrival as a major inconvenience, even going so far as to hold her presence responsible for Alma's increasing seizures. 

Soon after König sets Gretchen up with a job working the hotel's front desk, she starts witnessing strange occurrences, such as guests inexplicably vomiting in the lobby. But when she's chased by a screeching hooded woman after hours, the frightening encounter leads a detective named Henry (Jan Bluthardt) to enlist her help in finding the creepy attacker. Little does Gretchen know that it all leads back to König and his control over Alma. 

What's happening with Alma extends far beyond a chronic medical condition, but for Gretchen, banishment to the boredom of working the front desk seems preferable to spending another minute at home. But it's really when she forms a bond with female guest named Ed (Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey) that things suddenly go from bad to weird, derailing whatever plans she had to escape her nightmare of a family.  

Gretchen is put through the emotional and physical wringer almost from the moment she arrives to live with Luis and Beth, who both view her as a burden. In a sling and head bandage for most of the picture, Euphoria star Schafer gives about as engrossing and intense a performance as anyone could in their first feature lead turn, grounding what should be pure absurdity in the emotional hurt of a misunderstood, neglected teen. The real enemy isn't who Gretchen assumes, allowing her to evolve over the course of the film, eventually ending up in a far different place than where she began.

Digging into Gretchen's trauma without explicitly calling attention it, Singer lets Schafer's demeanor and body language do most of the heavy lifting. And she'll need to since everything that follows her night time altercation with the hooded woman is insane, as are its ties to König's elaborate plan involving parasites, flutes, slime, time warps, breeding, and of course, cuckoo birds. It's enough to make Charles Darwin spin in his grave, faltering only slightly in moments where Singer's script is required to explain it. But he even fares reasonably well there, powering through those details in a style that doesn't detract from the gritty atmosphere.

As the bearded, bespeckled mad scientist König, an unrecognizable Dan Stevens so deeply immerses himself into this character that viewers might instead assume they're watching an unknown German actor. Alternating between mild mannered host and aspiring Bond villain within a single scene, Stevens plays it politely subdued most of the way through, at least until König's experiment is compromised, enabling him to really unravel and cut loose. Jessica Henwick slides into a smaller, less significant role as the uncaring Beth while German actors Csokis and Bluthardt each impress in their increasingly pivotal parts.

With a story that surrounds an enigmatic scientist's hold over their young subject, Cuckoo carries echoes of Beyond The Black Rainbow and Stranger Things, making for an experience more immersive than the sum of its sillier parts. Too inventive and hypnotizing to casually dismiss, this doesn't exactly break the mold, but succeeds by wrapping its eccentric concept around smartly written characters defined by the craziness engulfing them.

Blink Twice

Director: Zoë Kravitz
Starring: Naomi Ackie, Channing Tatum, Christian Slater, Alia Shawkat, Simon Rex, Adria Arjona, Haley Joel Osment, Liz Carabel, Levon Hawke, Trew Mullen, Geena Davis, Kyle MacLachlan
Running Time: 102 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)   

If Knives Out and Jordan Peele had a baby, the result might come close to resembling Zoë Kravitz's Blink Twice, which some might remember had the original working title of Pussy Island. But once the Motion Picture Association got involved and likely told Kravitz her directorial debut would only play in theaters with three X's on the marquee, she gave in. But that's apparently where the compromise ended since its new generic title implies a blandness that couldn't be further from what unfolds onscreen, for better or worse. 

You know you're in for a wild ride when this opens with a trigger warning, but Kravitz definitely takes her time in setting up a premise with enough stylistic flourishes and debauchery to double as Saltburn's distant cousin. Attempting to explore themes of memory and misogyny, the execution is all over the map, complete with a reveal that still somehow feels off despite all the enticing groundwork laid.

When nail artist and cocktail waitress Frida (Naomi Ackie) and her friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) work an event thrown by billionaire tech entrepreneur Slater King (Channing Tatum), Frida strikes up a conversation with the mogul, who invites them both to his private island. Having recently stepped down as his company's CEO amidst an unspecified scandal, Slater has publicly apologized and turned over a new leaf, now dedicating his time to self-help therapy sessions and philanthropic endeavors. 

Upon their arrival, Frida and Jess meet Slater's entourage consisting of photographer Vic (Christian Slater), chef Cody (Simon Rex), personal assistant Stacy (Geena Davis), security head Stan (Chris Costa), DJ Tom (Haley Joel Osment) and hanger-on Lucas (Levon Hawke). Other women joining Frida and Jess as guests are former Survivor contestant Sarah (Adria Arjona), vapid app developer Camilla (Liz Caribel) and stoned out lawyer Heather (Trew Mullen). 

All of them are treated to a relaxing paradise where they're showered with lavish gift bags, expensive perfumes, gourmet meals and hallucinogenics. But while Slater takes a special interest in Frida, Jess  notices mysterious lapses in her memory, suspecting this beautiful getaway is more controlled and cult-like than they initially assumed, Before long, Frida will also become wary of the island's secrets and Slater's intentions, eventually realizing that leaving on her own free will won't be an option.

There are sinister clues and bread crumbs dropped throughout that hint at something darker, but for a good portion of the running time, it's just non-stop partying, eating and doing drugs. When Kravitz does pull the trigger on this plot after much build-up, it comes hard and fast, as if the film's length doesn't give her nearly enough runway to fully explore all the script's ideas.

Spending time with such an eclectic cast isn't exactly a chore, even if their characters are really just pawns in a larger game rather than multi-dimensional personalities to be invested in. Naomi Ackie's versatile performance as Frida is the major exception, as the actress sensitively portrays the insecurity and frustration of someone sick of being invisible. Just Slater acknowledging Frida's existence is a huge deal for her, as the invite and extra attention override the weirdness, obscuring any red flags and Jess's desperate pleas to leave. 

While we know this is all his dangerous power play, Tatum keeps Slater consistent, showing no noticeable changes in either his cool demeanor or oddly detached hospitality. That those outside his inner circle don't look like total idiots for getting sucked into his vortex is a plus, even if the story relies on a clumsily conceived sci-fi device to do it. 

The rest of the performances entertain to varying degrees, with Christian Slater, Simon Rex and Geena Davis leaving strong impressions as King's employees. And after early concerns Hit Man breakout Adria Arjona would be underutilized, her supporting role gains importance as this wears on, further solidifying the actress's rising status with a very different kind of turn here.

Audiences may start to wonder if Slater King stole a copy of Elon Musk's vacation itinerary when  Kravitz tries her hand at a Quentin Tarantino-style female revenge fantasy at the end. She's not half bad at it, though a plot twist involving Frida's connection to the island hardly makes a lick of sense in retrospect. 

Messy and overindulgent, Blink Twice is hard to look away from, but difficult getting a handle on, often coming across as a dark satire that provides only a surface level examination of heavier issues involving gender dynamics, abuse and rape. Luckily, Kravitz is a more compelling director than writer, so even when the narrative gets sloppy, the visuals, editing and performances help its cause. She emerges unscathed, showing the potential to easily surpass this with whatever comes next.               

Rebel Ridge

Director: Jeremy Saulnier
Starring: Aaron Pierre, Don Johnson, AnnaSophia Robb, David Denman, Emory Cohen, Steve Zissis, Zsané Jhé, Dana Lee, James Cromwell
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Rebel Ridge gets right down to business in its tension filled opening scene, as director Jeremy Saulnier sets the tone, showing considerable restraint with his own tightly constructed screenplay. While the amount of violence is surprisingly small considering the situation, that threat still hovers over every scene, despite it remaining a last resort for those involved. With a protagonist more afraid of what he'll do when all other options run out, the other side holds all the power, at least temporarily.  

His antagonists also don't want a mess, partially to avoid calling attention to their crimes, but mostly because racism and arrogance prevents them from seeing their victim as a serious foe. Saulnier takes a methodical route, having his characters make logical moves as suspense builds with a handful of reversals and turns. That this avoids the fate of lesser, forgettable police corruption dramas can be traced to those decisions, as well as a commanding, quietly powerful performance from its lead. 

Former Marine Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre) is cycling through Shelby Springs to post bail for his cousin Mike and buy a truck when he's hit by a police car and aggressively detained by officers Marston (David Denman) and Lann (Emory Cohen). They cuff and question Terry, seizing his $36,000 as drug money, preventing him from posting Mike's bail before he's transferred to a state prison. After the courthouse clerk refuses to help, his co-worker Summer McBride (AnnaSophia Robb) intervenes, digging deeper to pull some strings. 

Running out of time, Terry tries takes matters into his own hands by filing a report, bringing him face-to-face with police chief Sandy Burnne (Don Johnson), who mocks and manipulates him, igniting a feud that spirals out of control. But Sandy has no idea who he's really dealing with, and as Terry and Summer inch closer to uncovering a larger conspiracy, both become targets, fighting to survive long enough to expose the truth.

The roadside stop that kicks off the film is scary for how commonplace the illegal procedures and accompanying brutality seems for Shelby Springs police. Watching the two officers nonchalantly escalate the situation, it's clear this isn't their first rodeo, as much of the suspense hinges on whether Terry will do or say anything to further set them off. But we know compliance isn't the issue here, and his polite cooperation won't make a difference, dashcam or not. The cops' minds are already made up, and when this ends, you can't help but feel relief it wasn't worse, even if Terry's problems are just starting. 

One of the best aspects to Pierre's intense work are the subtle, wordless cues he gives off that Terry would far rather settle this entire ordeal in a peaceful, diplomatic way. He knows how much worse this get if he loses control, giving the police more excuses than they already have to pin what they want on him. But because his cousin's life hangs in the balance, all bets are off as he reaches the breaking point.

The frequently underappreciated Don Johnson is effectively deplorable as Burnne, inhabiting this self-proclaimed big shot who believes himself untouchable in a small town where corruption's already poisoned the well. What starts as a verbal battle of one-upmanship between the two adversaries eventually devolves when Burnne pushes Terry too far and finds out that he messed with the wrong guy. Even while openly expressing his desire to just disappear and make a fresh start, the ex-Marine isn't about to back down or take the easy way out. 

Summer's own conscience won't allow her to stand by and watch injustice unfold, fully aware of all the risks involved. Having also been through some stuff and beaten down by the system, she shares with Terry a natural instinct to help people, whatever the cost. A nearly unrecognizable Robb is phenomenal in sketching out this aspiring lawyer who's had much of her adult life ripped away due to mistakes and circumstance. By film's end, she'll wind up in a situation almost as dire as his, which isn't something viewers would have necessarily assumed at the start.

A surprisingly intelligent final act features some twists and shifts in allegiances caused by Terry's decision to stand his ground and end this once and for all. It also contains the lion's share of violence, made only more impactful by Saulnier milking the story until it eventually explodes in the last thirty minutes. It's edge-of-your-seat exciting, but even here there's a sense of consistency to the proceedings that reflects the lead character's committed pursuit for justice.

This is a grade A potboiler, but you don't walk away thinking only about the shootouts, car chases or plot machinations. What looms largest are the extreme measures this man must take to topple a crooked system rotting from the inside out. He knows that when playing a rigged game there's sometimes no choice but to just toss the board and make your own rules.    

Trap

Director: M. Night Shyamalan
Starring: Josh Hartnett, Ariel Donoghue, Saleka Night Shyamalan, Alison Pill, Hayley Mills, Jonathan Langdon, Mark Bacolcol, Marnie McPhail, Scott Mescudi, Russell "Russ" Vitale, Marcia Bennett, Lochlan Miller
Running Time: 105 min.

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For 'Trap' **

★★½ (out of ★★★★)

When the trailer for M. Night Shyamalan's Trap seemed to reveal key information about its plot, many started complaining that the writer/director's latest twist had already been let out of the bag.  But it turns out this big hook is unveiled within the first ten minutes and knowing it beforehand wouldn't adversely effect anyone's perception of the picture. What Shyamalan should instead be concerned about is that assumption, which indicates certain audiences still perceive him as primarily offering only shocks and jolts. 

That overall interest in seeing this waned the moment potential viewers felt they knew too much is a troubling sign, but one familiar to Shyamalan. Sometimes the stigma is earned, but often it isn't, with 2023's Knock at the Cabin recently proving he's capable of controlled restraint when necessary. On an upswing of late, his output really needs to be taken on a case-by-case basis since you're never sure which version of the director will show up. This time we get a bit of both, even if overindulgence wins out in the end. 

Armed with an incredible premise, good use is made of a unique setting and circumstances, at least until contrivances start piling up and open plot holes big enough to drive a truck through. You always accept some of this with the divisive Shyamalan and even occasionally embrace it, but the logic lapses are just too immense to ignore here. There's no denying the entertainment value, but after arriving at a finale that would send everyone home happy, he keeps going. And then goes further.

When Philadelphia firefighter Cooper Abbott (Josh Hartnett) takes his teen daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) to her favorite pop star Lady Raven's (Saleka Night Shyamalan) concert, the packed arena is crawling with cops and FBI agents. They've been tipped off that a serial killer known as the "Butcher" will be in attendance that night, which means big trouble for Cooper, who's been leading a double life for the past seven years. A doting dad to Riley, he's been secretly kidnapping and chopping up victims as the Butcher while remaining a step ahead of law enforcement. 

With Lady Raven's concert serving as a front for this giant trap, veteran FBI profiler Dr. Josephine Grant (Hayley Mills) thinks she finally has the Butcher's number. The authorities' presence isn't exactly a well kept secret, but Cooper needs to continually think of ways to avoid being identified and caught. As Grant's team closes in, he'll puts his and Riley's lives in jeopardy by orchestrating a risky escape plan that sets the stage for a collision of two worlds he's been desperately trying to keep separated.

While the concert's entire purpose is to trap Cooper and elaborate stings like these do have some basis in reality, what follows becomes increasingly hard to swallow. Between all the cops, Cooper's onslaught of cringy dad jokes and suspicious behavior, it isn't long before we're clued in to what's going on, if that wasn't already obvious prior to seeing the film. So nearly all the suspense hinges on how he'll overcome this impossible predicament. 

Initially, Shyamalan does everything right, as Cooper maintains the tricky balance of ensuring Riley's distracted enough for him to evade capture. In the process he'll have to contend with angry moms, guarded exits and the fact he inevitably sticks out like a sore thumb in a venue swarming with tween and teen girls. As a concertgoer, he's a sitting duck, so he manipulates his way backstage to gain the intel necessary to outsmart the FBI and slide out. And that's when Shyamalan starts stumbling. 

Cooper manages to attain what can best be described as impossible access, even for the craftiest criminal. And that doesn't even account for inexplicable details like paper concert receipts or the notion this major pop star would have no visible security detail with a manhunt underway. Sandwiched in between those holes (including a literal one Cooper contemplates escaping through) are some inspired sequences that involve him leveraging Riley as part of his escape and convincing staff to incorporate her into the show. 

For all its flaws, the father-daughter dynamic is handled well, rarely letting us forget Cooper's worst nightmare isn't getting caught, but the crack that would cause in the carefully choreographed facade he's put on for his family. In his twisted mind, the ramifications of these two lives merging doesn't occur to him until being found out becomes a real possibility. 

As Cooper navigates each new obstacle, Shyamalan stretches the rubber band of credibility until it eventually snaps. Cooper's three quarters of the way out of this mess and nearly home free until the script has him make a mind boggling decision, especially for a supposedly meticulous criminal obsessed with covering his tracks. Even worse, there's no reason for it other than to get them out of the arena and extend the plot. And that means whatever rumors we heard about the action taking place in real time or unfolding exclusively at the concert can be now put to bed. 

Once the setting shifts, what plays out is a bizarre cross between Dexter and Saw, complete with a time sensitive basement trap. There's also a crucial development involving Cooper's devoted wife Rachel (Alison Pill), as the final act flies off the rails in excitingly awful ways. There are about five endings, including one last element so over-the-top it flirts with the supernatural, making you wonder if this story was originally intended to join Unbreakable, Split and Glass in Shyamalan's self-contained universe. 

The reason to see this is Hartnett, who gives a wickedly charismatic performance in his big leading role return, elevating even the most ridiculous developments and remaining entirely believable amidst a situation that isn't. And for all the criticism directed at Shyamalan for casting his own daughter Saleka, she's actually very good, with her real life experience as a singer and entertainer successfully translating into this portrayal of a fictitious pop superstar. 

Saleka's role is surprisingly large and crucial, calling upon the acting novice to do some heavy dramatic lifting. Unfortunately, her brave character's actions would seem implausible for anyone other than Taylor Swift on her most heroic day, but that's a writing issue. The Parent Trap's Hayley Mills playing an FBI profiler is a clever in-joke, while as Riley, young Ariel Donoghue perfectly captures the exuberance of a teen whose whole universe revolves around attending her idol's concert.  

It's almost exhausting how many wrenches are thrown into this narrative, before it delivers a final blow that ensures audiences are spent by the time the credits roll. Trap hinges on such a specific, elaborate set-up that after an early attempt at covering his bases, Shyamalan just sort of throws his hands in the air, deciding it's easier to take shortcuts instead. The result is definitely an experience, albeit the kind of fascinatingly messy one we've come to expect from one of our most polarizing filmmakers.