Tag Archives: Ariel Donoghue

Killer Concert

Trap

by Hope Madden

You have to feel for a guy who’s built his career on trick endings. If he delivers another twist, he’s nothing but a gimmick. What if he just makes a thriller, no tricks, no twist, no gimmick? It can be done, right? Other filmmakers do it.

In the case of Trap, M. Night Shyamalan trades in twists and surprises for contrivance and predictability.

Josh Hartnett is Cooper, the awesome dad who sprung for floor seats to take his daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) to see her hero, Lady Raven (Saleka Shyamalan). But—you’ve seen the trailers—the whole concert is a trap. Cooper’s a serial killer and the Feds know he’ll be there, so they’ve descended on the show to smoke him out.

It is a compelling idea—sort of like the sting operation at the beginning of the 1989 Al Pacino/Ellen Barkin thriller Sea of Love. Except on a larger scale, with twenty thousand innocent lives at stake. I mean, cinematically it’s not a bad scheme, but in terms of law enforcement, feels sketchy.

Still, with a premise like that, the real star is the writing. How on earth is Shyamalan going to get his characters out of this?

With a lot of convenient opportunities for exposition, unreasonably handy opportunities for possible escape, and a heavy reliance on the idea that the moviegoing audience has not been to a lot of concerts.

Hartnett’s great. He’s an excellent choice for a serial killer: physically imposing but somehow bland, likeable without being memorable. Shyamalan’s camera emphasizes his height one moment, his Good Guy Jim smile the next.

Donoghue’s believable as the star struck pre-teen and Alison Pill shines late in the movie as her mother. Marnie McPhail feels unsettling real as that mom who will not drop it, and Jonathan Langdon charms as the vendor who talks to much and doesn’t have to work that hard.

Saleka Shyamalan struggles. She writes and performs all the Lady Raven songs, which seem reasonable enough as pop hits to me but, let’s be honest, I would have no idea. She comes up lacking in stage presence as the pop diva, though, and even more so as an actor.

But it’s the writing that lets you down the most. He can’t nail it every time, and when M. Night hits—The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, Signs, The Visit, Split—it’s worth all the misses. Trap is a miss. It’s not his worst, just middle of the pack, but a disappointment nonetheless.

Big Fish

Blueblack

by Rachel Willis

An encounter with a wild blue grouper sends 8-year-old Abby on a lifelong mission to understand, and save, the ocean ecosystem in writer/director Robert Connolly’s feature, Blueback.

We follow Abby through three stages of her life. The first – and shortest – at age 8 is precociously played by Ariel Donoghue. Teenage Abby, played by Isla Fogg, is who we spend the most time with as she reconciles her love of the ocean with her mom, Dora’s (Radha Mitchell), overt activism. A contemporary framing story follows the adult Abby (Mia Wasikowska) as a marine biologist who returns home after Dora (the older version portrayed by Elizabeth Alexander) suffers a stroke.

On paper, this seems like a lot to contend with, but Connolly handles each stage well, ping-ponging primarily from adult Abby and teenage Abby with a skillful touch. There’s never any confusion as to where we are in time, as both Fogg and Wasikowska cement us with the character (as do Mitchell and Alexander with Dora). Both depictions are so strong as to convince us that we’re watching the same woman across time.

The movie’s biggest problem is overstuffing the scenes of teenage Abby’s life, leaving too little time for both the framing story, and the fish that gives the film its name. Though Eric Bana is a fine actor, his character Macka feels extraneous. There are other characters with whom our time is better spent.

Because we spend so little time with the grouper, there’s never the sense that we’re connecting with an animal in the way other films showcase the human-animal bond. It’s possible it’s simply hard to make a girl and her fish land the same way as a boy and his dog, though I imagine those who saw My Octopus Teacher might beg to differ.

Despite the film’s tendency to take on a little too much regarding its worldbuilding, it’s still an effective exploration of family and community, and how we relate to the natural world. There are those who seek to exploit it for everything it’s worth, while others wish to preserve it for future generations.

There’s a sense that for each piece of the world we lose, more than we can ever imagine is lost along with it. Abby and Dora hope to preserve that which connects us to something bigger than ourselves. The theme is always one worth repeating, and Blueback adds a unique perspective to the mix.