It’s always thrilling when a horror film explores the power and possibility of sound. Much modern horror is too quiet, missing the opportunity to create an immersive soundscape that fully transports viewers into its world. Writer-director Bryn Chainey’s debut feature Rabbit Trap tells a wholly immersive horror story, using its soundscape to send viewers through time and space, this world and the next.
Darcy Davenport (Dev Patel) just moved into a Welsh country home with his wife Daphne (Rosy McEwen), an experimental artist who incorporates natural sound into her music. It’s 1976, and music is dreamy and psychedelic, recorded on a variety of analog equipment. They work together, recording and producing in their home, far from other people. They’re a happy couple but Darcy has trauma from his childhood that troubles him at night, giving him terrors in his sleep. One night Daphne records one of them and plays it for him. Though he clearly feels violated, Darcy gives her permission to use the audio on a future track. But he still doesn’t want to talk about his past, a refusal that hangs over their whole marriage.
Daphne doesn’t seem to like going deep, either, despite the exploratory nature of her work. When Darcy asks how she’s doing, she scoffs at the “boring” question. But if she finds her own feelings boring, why does it surprise her that Darcy doesn’t want to talk about his own? Darcy’s nightmares are very simple––there’s a man cast in shadow, haunting him as he sleeps, accompanied by an odd sound. Out in the countryside, Darcy and Daphne record audio that sounds distorted when they play it at home. The distortion ends up turning them on, and they make love to the sound. It’s clear they’re a couple that loves each other and their physical passion is engrossing to watch: in one scene they sit in a bubble bath together, a tender and intimate moment dripping with sensuality.
And just when you begin to wonder why such a loving, romantic couple has no children in their life, one arrives. Daphne sees a figure outside and Darcy goes to investigate; thinking it’s a potential intruder, he tackles the person, revealed to be a young child (Jade Croot) drawn to the sounds coming from the house. The child immediately tries to befriend Darcy, showing him how to set up a rabbit trap in the woods. The next day, the child appears in their home, introducing themself to Daphne and complimenting her profusely.
So begins an odd courtship, the Davenports and the child sharing their days together. It’s peaceful at first, but over time the child demands more and more from them––more time, more care, and it becomes clear that a commitment is next. The child seems to have no family and we never see where they go when they leave the Davenport home late in the day. The child speaks of local folklore, fairies, and other magical things. The Davenports first think it’s all superstition, but soon Darcy begins to question the intentions of the child. His suspicions push the child to lean more on Daphne, intensifying their relationship and refusing to leave the home when asked. Darcy’s trauma and Daphne’s fear of motherhood are brought to the fore as they soon realize that the child has led them into a trap of their own, one they may not be able to escape.
Patel and McEwen make for an attractive, compelling couple with genuine onscreen chemistry. McEwen’s voice is resonant and hypnotic, making us wish we could hear her music in real life; Patel makes for a handsome horror protagonist, great as both eye candy and a dramatic lead; Croot is appropriately mysterious as the petulant child, with a knowing quality beyond her years. Though the child is spoken of with male pronouns, it’s unclear what gender they’re supposed to be, or even if it matters. With its small cast, there’s an insulated quality to Rabbit Trap that heightens its dreamlike aesthetic. Chainey melds science-fiction, horror, folklore, and relationship drama to tell a truly unique story with a third act that’s as beautiful as it is confusing. The alluring forest and lush trees serve as a stage for a descent into a world governed by dream logic. At some point a character says, “Sound is memory carved into the air.” Much of what goes on in Rabbit Trap is unspoken, challenging viewers to give themselves over to its immersive visual storytelling. Though a bit shaky and mysterious at times, this story lands beautifully.
Rabbit Trap premiered at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.