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There’s an oscillation of weirdness in this feature debut from Bryn Chainey, who takes us deep into the traditional folk-horror thicket with a fervently atmospheric and intriguingly acted, if finally directionless drama set in 1970s Wales. Like Daniel Kokotajlo’s recent Starve Acre or Mark Jenkin’s Enys Men, Rabbit Trap swathes you in ambient sound design and insists on a kind of atavistic authenticity in the 70s stylings themselves: the woollens, the gloom and the analogue recording equipment. Dev Patel and Rosy McEwen play Darcy and Daphne, an English couple involved in the music scene; she is a folk singer whose last LP was called Mono Moon. They have come to the remote Welsh countryside to work on her new album, a bit like Led Zeppelin, whose experience recording in primitive Welsh cottages in the early 70s deserves a folk-horror treatment of its own.
They rent a cottage featuring the kind of windows at which, in Withnail’s immortal words, faces look in at. Darcy is Daphne’s producer and sound engineer and tapes interesting sounds thereabouts for use on the record – birdsong, rainwater dripping into a barrel – but is also picking up a strange thrumming from the shroomy netherworld. Soon this English couple find themselves befriended and yet menaced by a smudgy-faced, jumper-wearing feral Welsh child (rather brilliantly played by Jade Croot) who could be any age from nine to 54, telling uneasy Darcy about the Tylwyth Teg fairy folk and showing him a rabbit trap in which the captured bunnies are transformed into fetish sacrifices.
As the child becomes part of their lives, the couple find themselves obscurely transformed, the whole experience perhaps gesturing at their own unspoken feelings of loss. There is also a scene in which the child appears to burn the gorse around their cottage, and it is difficult to tell if the allusion to Welsh nationalist protest is deliberate. Rabbit Trap is impressively controlled and composed, although there is something a little heartsinking in which the clear contours of storytelling finally soften into the indistinct fuzz of mood and vibe. Rabbit Trap loses focus, but not before it has shown us a scary performance from Croot.
