Mark Reviews Movies: I TRAPPED THE DEVIL

Become a fan on Facebook Follow on Twitter

Review by Mark Dujsik | April 25, 2019

The questions are far more disturbing than the answers in I Trapped the Devil, a short but thoughtful thriller about familial tension, religious certainty, and that scariest of images—a closed door. The threat to the lives, sanity, and souls of the film's three major characters is behind a closed door in the basement of a house. While it seems that writer/director Josh Lobo knows the inherent power of that image, he still makes sure that we know whatever is behind that barrier means business, with the addition of a few padlocks and a big, wooden cross to bar it shut. It's the little things that mean so much.

Lobo's embrace of that potent image, used for the entire film (save for a throwaway but kind of chilling reveal at the very end) to suggest some supernatural evil at work on the minds of these characters, represents the first-time filmmaker's dedication to simplicity. The whole of the story takes place inside a two-story house with a red-lit cellar. Apart from a couple of cops who open and close the film, there are only three characters visible throughout this tale. Their relationships are clearly defined, with little details in set dressings and suggestive dialogue about grief vaguely filling in their pasts.

A fourth character—the man or thing behind that door—is only heard. We don't need to see whoever or whatever is imprisoned in that unseen space, and perhaps, the best sign of how well this chilling drama works in its simple setup and execution is that we don't want to see him or it, either. It wouldn't just ruin the atmosphere. It also would have to be a letdown. Lobo evokes such a strong sense of the man or thing down there that any definitive answer would have to be disappointing.

The story has Matt (AJ Bowen) and Karen (Susan Burke), married and seemingly content, arriving at Matt's old, suburban family home. That's where his brother Steve (Scott Poythress) lives now, alone and wanting it that way. It's Christmastime, and Karen has convinced her husband that it's time to let the past die. The brothers haven't seen or talked to each other in years.

Steve seems opposed to the idea of having company. The windows of the house have been covered with newspaper, in order to keep out prying eyes. The inside is dark and a shambles. At first, Steve doesn't want his brother and sister-in-law there—holiday or not.

There's more to it than just years of being out of contact and some resentment, though. There's also an aura of suspicion coming from Steve, as if he believes there is more to this impromptu visit than just the time of year and the desire to put the bad feelings to bed. Those suspicions aren't helped by the constant phone calls coming into the house, which Steve answers and listens to with visible dread. Given a chance to explore the house alone, Karen discovers a loaded gun under her brother-in-law's bed.

We soon learn about the situation in the basement, but the important thing to note is that, by establishing the distant and strained dynamics between Steve and his family, the eventual tension of the repercussions of that revelation is grounded in much more human concerns. Here, Matt feels as if he has betrayed his brother and, in the process, condemned him to a life of solitude.

Karen simply wants a real family, like the one that is suggested she lost. That loss, it's further suggested (There's a newspaper clipping about death on Christmas), is something all three of them share (The specifics are somewhat vague, but the mood of grief and loss is communicated well enough).

To the point, though, Steve indeed has a man locked away in the cellar. He is convinced that this man (eerily voiced by Chris Sullivan) is the Devil incarnate. Karen and, to a slightly lesser extent, Matt are skeptical of Steve's assertion to the point that they're considering a call to the police. Matt is hesitant. He just reunited with his brother. The thought of actually condemning him is too much to bear, and maybe—just maybe—there's something to Steve's belief. It could be a sign either of a mentally unsound man in need of help or of the truth.

Instead of doling out a series of scares, Lobo uses this premise as a chance to explore these characters, their relationships, and their thoughts about the nature of evil. Steve's theory is there is man's evil, crimes and sins driven by greed and the like, and pure evil, crimes and sins driven simply by the desire to cause pain. The man or thing he has hostage is responsible for the second kind, and if Steve is correct, he will have stopped the potential pain and grief of millions of people.

It's not particularly deep, mind you, but it doesn't need to be. With I Trapped the Devil, Lobo hasn't set out to discuss the theological implications of this scenario or the ethical, moral, and legal implications if Steve is wrong (It becomes clear that even Matt and Karen come to believe him to some degree pretty quickly). This is a film that's entirely about establishing and sustaining an atmosphere of dread, heightened by the likelihood of an inhuman force working upon flawed and relatable characters. It's simple, and because of that, it works.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products

Buy the DVD

Buy the Blu-ray