‘Rabbit Trap’ Review: Ineffectual Welsh Folk Horror Drops Dev Patel and Rosy McEwen Into Ancient Woodland Hokum

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A tradition dating back to early genre innovators like “The Wicker Man” from 1973, British folk horror can be bizarre (as seen in Alex Garland’s “Men”), mystifyingly abstract (Mark Jenkin’s “Enys Men”) or confounding (Ben Wheatley’s “In the Earth”). However, it should never be dull. Bryn Chainey’s “Rabbit Trap” has an unsettling atmosphere of foreboding, striking visuals of encroaching nature, and a captivating premise about the otherworldly influence of sound, making it a rather intriguing debut film. As one character says, “With your eyes you enter the world, with your ears the world enters you.” This quote would hold significance if the story were clear enough to delve into any meaningful psychological depth.

The implication from this scenario could be summarized as: Avoid exploring old forests with recording equipment, especially if you plan on manipulating the recordings into experimental music and playing it to provoke fairies. This is a lesson learned by early electronica musician Daphne Davenport (Rosy McEwen) and her sound recordist husband Darcy (Dev Patel) after their relocation to a secluded Welsh farmhouse in 1976.

Or, more casually:

The takeaway from this story is clear: Stay away from ancient woodlands with recording devices, and don’t attempt to mix your finds into avant-garde music to irritate fairies. This was a lesson learned the hard way by Daphne Davenport (Rosy McEwen), an early electronica musician, and her sound recordist husband Darcy (Dev Patel) following their move to a remote Welsh farmhouse in 1976.

As a captivated viewer, I found the most intriguing thread in the movie revolves around Darcy’s harrowing night terrors, dreams that eerily echo his unresolved childhood trauma. Daphne, with her compassionate recording, tries to help him decipher what it is that leaves him paralyzed with fear. The actor, Patel, is so mesmerizing that I found myself drawn into the mystery of the towering, molten-looking, nude man (Nicholas Sampson) who emerges from the shadows in Darcy’s nightmares, seeming to smother him. Regrettably, this captivating subplot takes a backseat to a more intricate tale of dark magic that seems to cling to the young couple, becoming the main focus of the storyline.

At the outset, a voice whispers, “Pay heed to the soil.” Delve into the darkness and listen attentively, for the earth embodies you, and within you lies where your deepest secrets reside. Hmm, I see. The screenplay by Chainey is filled with such mystical statements that contribute to the story but are not effectively connected in a movie that lacks clarity in its overarching thematic thread. One of these relates specifically to the Davenports’ work: “Sound is an echo of memory, a specter. When you hear a sound, you provide it with shelter. Your body becomes its haunting ground.” This idea could potentially serve as an intriguing foundation for a horror film, but it doesn’t develop into a significant aspect of Chainey’s narrative.

Initially, events unfold vigorously: Darcy ventures outdoors to gather audio samples, accompanied by a group of birds flying harmoniously like droplets. Meanwhile, Daphne grapples with her slow advancement in her current musical projects, meticulously arranging complex configurations of tape decks and sound wave generators.

Darcy attempts to relax her by getting her high and dancing, which might be a bit premature for such romantic, dreamy scenes in the movie. However, it’s the mysterious, otherworldly noise that Darcy recorded upon entering a ring of mushrooms – something not recommended – that truly excites Daphne.

A short while later, they spot a child named Jade Croot observing them nearby the house, frozen in place. This mysterious boy persuades them to visit his rabbit traps, and with an unusual, psychedelic flair, he explains that rabbits serve as messengers from the underworld, traveling up and down underground.

As a folklore enthusiast, I’m delighted to pass on some intriguing insights about the Tylwyth Teg, mischievous fairies from Welsh legend. I encourage the couple to take comfort in the gorse growing along their property boundaries as it serves as a protective barrier for them. However, I must caution them against venturing into a fairy circle, as doing so might lead to being whisked away to Annwn, a realm hidden behind a veil from our human world.

As Darcy’s nightmares about the enigmatic man grow darker, the recurring, unwelcome presence of the boy becomes increasingly disturbing, particularly when he seems to grasp their private struggles, such as their childlessness. The Davenports strive to maintain their politeness despite feeling a tinge of revulsion when the boy presents them with a freshly caught rabbit. Soon, the child begins to manipulate Darcy and Daphne, perceiving their vulnerabilities and telling Darcy he’s decaying within, causing Daphne to rot alongside him.

As the film unfolds, it gradually casts an ominous charm over me, but somehow, it veers off course and loses structure, becoming disjointed even as tantalizing remnants of ancient Welsh folklore emerge. Among these intriguing relics are a cluster of monolithic figures in the forest, crafted from moss, dirt, and bark – entities that the increasingly ominous child dubs “the widows.

Regardless of Darcy and Daphne’s efforts to keep him at bay, this unwelcome guest continues to push his way into their family circle. Consequently, they must rely on the power of their bond to counteract the mysterious forces of an unfamiliar realm and prevent themselves from being transformed into ordinary compost.

In their work, sound designer Graham Reznick and composer Lucrecia Dalt skillfully weave a backing of buzzing, rumbling, and continuous droning sounds that set an atmosphere. However, even compelling background elements can only carry a narrative so far; if the storyline itself lacks cohesion, it may fall short. Yet, the last act introduces a tenuous bunny-related subplot as an effort to resolve the mystery, albeit somewhat feebly.

Even powerful actors struggle when given a script filled with obscure jargon that’s hard to understand. However, Patel consistently delivers a compelling performance, infusing his character with vulnerability and pain. McEwen (a standout in last year’s Blue Jean) skillfully navigates the line between panic and resilience. Croot effectively portrays the quirky child with an eerie sing-song voice, becoming more irritating than concerning as the story progresses. As a villain, the child is only partially convincing, especially when he’s completely detached, either with fairies or rabbits.

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2025-01-25 08:55