It would appear that this is the year of Thai cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom!
Having previously written a piece for Chasing the Gold on his stellar work in Challengers, it’s no secret he’s quickly becoming a favorite DP of mine. I was introduced to his work in Call Me By Your Name and Memoria. Both serve as beautifully patient and naturalistic films that capture the world around them in as touching a manner as the characters they focus on. The same can be said about his work on Suspiria, a film that arguably roots itself in the chosen setting of the film more than anything else via visual excellence. But to me, Challengers was unlike anything else I had seen from him up to that point. And as if I couldn’t have gotten any more excited for a new M. Night Shyamalan film, seeing Mukdeeprom attached to Trap sent me into high gear. And even better, it was being shot on 35mm! I would have been there opening night regardless, but my giddiness as I took my seat was palpable. With Mukdeeprom’s inventive ideas about capturing the link between character, setting, and the incredible visual storyteller that Shyamalan is— this film was always bound for greatness. And dear reader/fellow Lady Raven (Shyamalan’s real-life daughter, Saleka Shyamalan) fan, this article and this film are certainly not traps: you will not be disappointed by the concert this fearsome director/cinematographer duo brought to the big screen.
As briefly touched upon earlier, several films Mukdeeprom has worked on revolve around nature. And I don’t think that’s an accident. Take Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Memoria, for example. So many extended sequences simply focus on the earth around Tilda Swinton’s character. Mukdeeprom forces us to scan the frame, not looking for anything but embracing the crystal-clear earth instead. The grass sways under Swinton’s body as she sleeps, with the water in a nearby stream ever so slightly flowing by. In very simple ways, Mukdeeprom captures beauty with his curious and reverential lens. It’s a touching way to capture the world around us and around the characters within the film. So how exactly does he capture the world of Trap? In the complete opposite manner of the film I just detailed. Wherein Memoria’s visuals seem interested in slowing down to realize the inherent beauty and mystique around us all, Trap feels more interested in viewing the entire environment as a playground designed to encase or allow for an escape by any means necessary. If the environment, or those who inhabit it, suffer during the course of the film, so be it. The reason for such hostile aggression? Shyamalan and Mukdeeprom center everything in the film around and through Josh Hartnett’s Cooper (also known as the Butcher).
So much of Trap plays out through the lens of the Butcher, a psychopathic serial killer. And with that, Mukdeeprom practically shoves his camera into the brain of the sociopath. Frankly, much of the movie feels like it’s framed with contempt in mind. Shyamalan has played with point-of-view a lot throughout his career, but his later films almost hinge on them in a few ways.
There’s The Visit, which plays out as found footage. We see what the characters are experiencing through the lens of their handheld cameras. With Glass, Shyamalan positions us to see through the lens of all three principal characters (heroes and villains, alike). At one point in that film, canted angles are even used to depict Elijah Glass’ (Samuel L. Jackson) POV as his head slinks off to the side. So it’s no surprise that Trap, being touted as a “new M. Night Shyamalan experience, is playing with the same cinematic ideas. After all, it’s there in the tagline: this is an experience. And we’re experiencing each moment, not as an audience member removed from the film, but as an onlooker stuck in the mind of a madman. Think Inside Out, but way more messed up and ripe for mayhem.
We see everything that Shyamalan and Muldeeprom want us to see. We’re at the whim of the script and the images, and more than anything, we’re at the whim of the Butcher. So much of the thrill of Trap lies in the unknowable lengths to which Cooper will go to escape capture. As his eyes wander more and more frantically, we, too, begin to feel the unease. We may not sympathize with him in the slightest, but we’re stuck with him as onlookers. If he gets caught, there, too, goes the thrilling cinematic experience. It’s a brilliant way of inextricably linking the visual language of the film with the audience’s emotions. We don’t want this to end. Let the stakes build and build and build, and take us along for the ride—reprehensible actions of the Butcher be damned.
Looking at the film through this POV lens, one can’t help but focus on the close-ups Shyamalan has also used throughout his career. We’ve seen countless examples of Shyamalan shooting dialogue exchanges in some of the most visually exciting manners possible. Think of the opening scene in Unbreakable, an unsettling, claustrophobic, handheld long take that uses a mirror and simple camera movements to capture the fright of a baby delivery having gone awry. Hell, we could even use the very next scene in the same film, where Shyamalan employs another long take that simply shifts between two sides of a train seat to highlight shifting perspectives as the conversation continues. But in Trap, much of the dialogue is captured in a simple shot/reverse-shot setup. And that’s exactly what it sounds like. One person speaks with the camera pointed at them, and then another speaks, and so on and so forth. It’s used quite literally all the time in film and television. The reason being? It’s simple. But Shyamalan and Mukdeeprom aren’t merely taking the easy way out. There’s purpose behind this decision, and it again lends credence to the notion that Mukdeeprom’s camera is taking the place of the Butcher’s wandering, yet laser-focused, gaze.
There’s this sense that every single character that isn’t Riley (Ariel Donoghue), the Butcher’s daughter, angers him to no end. Perhaps anger isn’t even the right word. It’s as if everybody around him is just an NPC (non-playable character) in a video game. This film has been compared to the Hitman game franchise, and it couldn’t feel more true. Anyone around Cooper, aside from his loved ones, is merely framed as cannon fodder to aid, interrupt, or distract. They’re captured in centered, isolated close-ups or teetering at the edge of the frame in complete focus. There’s even a split diopter shot employed at one point, and that’s cause enough for parades through the streets in celebration of Trap.
In the centered close-ups, Mukdeeprom captures the subjects as if they’re under intense scrutiny. Through the eyes of Cooper, as written earlier, you can practically feel his contempt in speaking to somebody he feels is lesser. He loves Riley and hopes she is happy. But speaking to Marnie McPhail’s unnamed character, the mother of a girl who has been giving Riley a hard time, it’s as if he wants to snap and drop any notion of being a well-adjusted human. There’s a slight tilt to the camera, where Mukdeeprom utilizes the very efficient trick of having the viewer, in turn, looking down at this mother as well. The same goes for when Cooper is in the frame. We are looking up at him. He’s in a position of power, and we can’t help but gaze at his ability to quickly lie his way through any scenario. He just wants to move on to more engaging and essential interactions. In conjunction with the editing, Mukdeeprom’s imagery intentionally feels rushed. Trap is moving rapidly because Cooper is desperately trying to find the escape path of least resistance. And just when we get used to such scenes, Mukdeeprom and Shyamalan throw a curveball. When being ambushed by the same mother, she is way off to the far right of the frame. There’s an altercation between police and a suspect so, of course, that’s all Cooper can think to focus on. If the film is partially about the balance between work and family, Mukdeeprom shows it play out in real-time. Cooper’s ability to focus on both is impressive, as he rapidly escapes both the attention of the police and the wrath of this mother. And this literal split in interests comes to a crescendo when Mukdeeprom finally whips out the split diopter.
Spoiler Warning: For those worried about blatant plot developments, perhaps skip to the next paragraph, but you’ll miss an exciting and quick lesson on split diopter shots!
Cooper and Riley find themselves backstage at one point. It’s an exciting moment for both father/killer and daughter! Her dreams of dancing with Lady Raven in the spotlight are coming true, and for Cooper, his escape seems to be laid out in front of him. Only then do we see the FBI profiler who set the entire trap in motion. And Mukdeeprom literally shows this divide to us. A quick rundown on split diopters for those who are curious: If you’ve seen basically any movie of Brian De Palma’s, you’ve seen a split diopter shot. There are far more technical definitions and explanations available, but it’s essentially when a piece of convex glass is placed on the main lens of a camera, usually centered. When this is done, the image captured is split in half. One half of the image will appear in the background and the other in the foreground. What makes it so exciting, though, is that both halves of the image will be in complete focus. A great way to tell if a split diopter is authentic is to look in the center of the frame; it will appear to be a bit distorted (The piece of convex glass). Next time you’re watching practically any movie from the ’70s, keep your eye out for the technique. It was used incredibly often and to beautiful effect. Anyways, back to the Lady Raven concert/trap. Mukdeeprom has Riley and Cooper on stage in the background and the FBI profiler patrolling nearby in the foreground. The two sides of Cooper’s brain are at work here, and it’s the first time we really see the two at direct odds with one another. Up until this point in Trap, Cooper and in turn, Mukdeeprom have done all they can to keep the two sides of this man separated. It’s only here when his being a father and his being a crazed serial killer collapse in on themselves to give us one of the most striking images of the film. One of the highlights of Riley’s life will now be forever tainted with this wedge between them. And Mukdeeprom conveys it literally!
Another simple reason for the visuals of Trap deserving acclaim? It was shot on beautiful 35mm film! The images look gorgeous and bring a real vibrancy to the entire film. Aside from Christopher Nolan, Quentin Tarantino, and Paul Thomas Anderson, we so rarely see other filmmakers celebrated for shooting on film. Those three are massively responsible for the resurgence of shooting on film, but Shyamalan has continued to shoot on film throughout his career with the rare digital exception. Shyamalan has also worked with some of the greatest living cinematographers, from Roger Deakins on The Village to Tak Fujimoto on Signs. Mukdeeprom, rightfully so, now has a spot in such esteemed company, and his accolades should reflect that! That’s not to say awards inherently add more value to an artist, but it would be a justifiable thrill to see him nominated for any of his stellar work this year.
All in all, Trap is indeed an experience from Shyamalan. Very few filmmakers continuously astound with their grasp on visual language in such distinct ways. When paired with undeniable talent, his vision takes us on unforgettably cinematic thrill rides. It’s also abundantly clear at this point that Mukdeeprom can alter his approach to cinematography in ways that necessitate the vision of the director, and the film as a whole. Where his work on Challengers revels in digital chaos and almost a sense of experimentation, his work on Trap exists in the analog and very much in the physical moment. That’s fitting for a film about a man doing all he can to remove himself from such a moment. It’s a sight to see, making the notion of revisiting Trap all the more exciting.
Trap is currently playing in theaters.
