Rabbit Trap

I’ve always considered myself a “city guy.” The hustle and bustle fill my senses in a way I love. That said, I do appreciate the tranquility of rural areas, where your nearest neighbor might be miles away. But of course, that same isolation can also set the stage for strange or even dangerous things to happen. I’ve said this many times before: there’s something about the woods that screams “don’t go,” yet humans still insist on hiking and camping there. For those who want to live life on the wild side—Godspeed. As for me, I’ll stick to movies as my guide for what not to do.

In Rabbit Trap, Darcy (Dev Patel) and Daphne (Rosy McEwen) leave London for the Welsh countryside to finish their latest album. During the day, Darcy wanders outside recording nature sounds, while Daphne experiments with the equipment in their cottage. For them, sound is everything—it triggers Daphne in ways that suggest it’s more than just music. But things change when Darcy captures a mysterious, otherworldly sound unlike anything they’ve heard before.

Adding to the mystery, a child (Jade Croot) suddenly appears and begins spending time with them. At first, Darcy and Daphne welcome the company, believing the boy has no one else. But as he starts showing up constantly, the couple—eager to finish their album—find themselves wanting their space back. That’s when the problems begin. The strange sound, combined with the child’s presence, triggers unsettling events that slowly blur Darcy and Daphne’s grip on reality.

Written and directed by Bryn Chainey, Rabbit Trap feels oddly timeless. Even though the story is set in 1976, the atmosphere could fit into almost any era. The film thrives on mood and texture, with—unsurprisingly—sound design at its core. That’s its greatest strength. But it also raises the question: is the film’s heavy reliance on mood simply distracting us from its weaker points?

The cracks show in the story. The plot feels half-baked. While the first half is intriguing, the longer it goes on, the more it drifts into unexplained territory. Instead of deepening the mystery, it often feels muddled, leaving you wondering why certain things are happening at all.

Still, Rabbit Trap pulls viewers into its moody, unsettling world. There are themes of repression and psychological struggle threaded throughout, and at its best, the film explores horror through an internal, almost metaphorical lens. But for everything it does right, it stumbles elsewhere. The characters are thin and underwritten. Patel, usually so charismatic, does his best with limited material. McEwen brings weight to her role, and Croot shows flashes of promise, but none are given enough depth to truly elevate the story.

Chainey does impress at times with striking visuals and an enveloping soundscape, but those moments can’t fully rescue the film from its flaws. Ultimately, Rabbit Trap is atmospheric and ambitious, but its cryptic nature and lack of narrative payoff prevent it from being truly satisfying.