<p interpreters Daniel Gillies Erik Thomson Miriama MacDowell Matthias Luafutu
Year 2021
premiere April 1, 2022
★★★
The film industry welcomed James Ashcroft’s feature debut with a bold sense of restraint and a clear, uncompromising vision. After making a name for himself with distinct, offbeat New Zealand cinema and a stint as a short-film producer, his first full-length project arrives with notable confidence. The movie demonstrates a rare talent for shaping oppressive atmospheres and delving into the darker corners of its characters. From the opening moments, tension tightens its grip, rising steadily as the narrative unfolds. The director’s choice to lean into a lean, almost claustrophobic aesthetic allows every sound, every shadow, and every pause to carry weight. The result is a film that feels both intimate and unflinching, keeping viewers on edge as the story evolves through its carefully measured rhythm.
Trapped in the Dark draws its core from a story by Owen Marshall, yet it casts a spell of its own that keeps the audience guessing. The plot begins with what seems like a simple, almost serene scene: a family of hikers and campers enjoying a moment of respite in a country landscape. But the tone quickly shifts as the wilderness becomes both refuge and trap. The narrative weaves through a late-night escape that leads into a remote, rugged terrain where the weight of past actions and unspoken sins surfaces. The setting emphasizes isolation and vulnerability, turning the natural beauty of the outdoors into a backdrop for fear and consequence. As the tension escalates, two armed assailants enter the frame, their presence turning the journey into a harrowing ordeal. A dark plan of revenge unfolds, redefining trust and testing the bonds that once seemed unbreakable. The film’s pacing ensures that danger feels imminent at every turn, inviting viewers to anticipate the next unpredictable twist while staying rooted in the characters’ evolving psychology.
The director translates a palpable nightmare into cinematic terms, capturing a sense of extreme discomfort that lingers. The gunshot trauma and the sense that escape might be forever out of reach intensify the dread, and the audience is drawn deeper into a moral maze where choices blur and consequences loom large. The performances anchor the story, letting humanity flicker even in moments of desperation. Hope appears, slips away, and reappears in uncertain forms, contributing to a mood that remains fragile and unsettled. The film doesn’t shy away from difficult questions. It raises ethical concerns about survival, revenge, and the line between right and wrong when pressed by fear and survival instincts. The tension rises not just from perilous situations but from the slow, almost clinical examination of how people respond under pressure. The result is a thriller that feels morally complex as much as it is emotionally gripping, with the stakes continually shifting and never fully predictable. The careful balance between action and introspection keeps the audience invested, ensuring that even quieter moments carry weight. Without the director’s precise handling, the film might have leaned too far into brutality; instead, it remains measured, allowing the gravity of each moment to resonate long after the screen fades to black.