Trap House

Trap House is certainly a pure product of muscular B-movie cinema, but director Michael Dowse clearly attempts something a little more ambitious than a simple shoot-'em-up. The starting point is incredibly effective: a DEA team in El Paso, led in the field by Dave Bautista in the role of Ray Seale, takes on a Mexican cartel while their children, all bound by the same undercover life, grow up in the shadow of weapons, lies, and classified missions. When an agent is killed during a raid and his family, notably his son Jesse, played by Blu del Barrio, discovers how stingy and indifferent the institution is, the anger felt by the teenagers is not just a plot device: Trap House touches on a real socio-economic issue, that of a system that demands extreme sacrifices without offering any security to those who remain. During a few scenes, particularly those dealing with the family's grief and forced eviction, the film seems on the verge of becoming a scathing commentary on the war on drugs, before retreating to more comfortable ground, that of the hybrid action thriller.

It is Cody Seale, played by Jack Champion, who crystallizes this shift. Ray's son, a teenager who is both reckless and deeply loyal, decides to right the injustice in his own way: by turning his gang of friends (Sophia Lillis, Whitney Peak, and Zaire Adams) into petty thieves, armed with equipment stolen from their parents and skills learned from hanging out on the DEA's training grounds. This idea (of federal agents' children using the tools of the state to strike back at a cartel that broke one of their own) is as brilliant as it is completely implausible, and it is from this tension that the film derives much of its appeal. The heist sequences, filmed with almost television-like clarity but a real sense of rhythm, constantly keep us on edge because Michael Dowse never films these teenagers as super-soldiers: they are clumsy, panicked, overconfident, and every door pushed open at night with night vision goggles feels less like a tactical mission and more like a bad idea taken too far. We can clearly sense the moment when what starts out as a kind of serious game à la Fast & Furious spirals into a deadly situation over which they have lost control.

Faced with this adolescent energy, Dave Bautista provides a surprisingly nuanced counterpoint. As Ray Seale, he doesn't play the vengeful bulldozer promised by the poster, but a widowed father, worn down by his job, who desperately tries to protect his son without smothering him. The film finds its heart in these scenes where Ray begins to understand that his own son is repeating his professional actions, but with the recklessness of youth. Jack Champion gives the character enough arrogance and vulnerability to make him believable: Cody is both the kid doing donuts in the high school parking lot and the one struggling with a quiet anger against an institution that has let down a friend. Around them, Sophia Lillis brings a moral gravity that serves as a compass for the group, Whitney Peak and Zaire Adams oscillate accurately between humor, fear, and bravado, while the romance with Teresa, played by Inde Navarrette, adds a layer of emotional danger that sets up a fairly predictable but entertaining twist in its very “TV series” way of reconfiguring alliances.

On the other side, the cartel led by Benito Cabrera and his sister Natalia gives the film its most menacing moments thanks to Tony Dalton and Kate del Castillo, who may be recycling archetypes already seen on television, but inhabit them with an intensity that enhances every scene in which they appear. We sense a professional coldness and growing paranoia in them as their stocks are siphoned off by these inexplicable ghosts, and even if Gary Scott Thompson and Tom O'Connor's script doesn't give them as much space as they deserve, their mere presence is enough to make it clear that the kids are playing with people who have neither patience nor mercy. This is one of the most interesting paradoxes of “Trap House”: in the space of half an hour, the film manages to juxtapose a pure moment of 90s action nostalgia (biting dialogue, B-movie logic, cartel clichés) with a jolt of brutal realism, where a stray bullet or a bad choice is enough to shatter the illusion of play forever. The problem is that Michael Dowse never really decides between these two registers, resulting in a fluctuating tone that prevents the film from fully establishing itself, either as a fun and self-assured piece of entertainment or as a truly gritty drama.

Visually and structurally, Trap House often resembles a premium series pilot more than a movie: very clean images, lighting that is sometimes too smooth, teenage dialogue that at times slips into sitcom-style sarcasm when the situation calls for more grit. Bobby Cannavale, as the loyal partner, constantly dressed in comfortable shirts, seems almost straight out of a procedural that we might have zapped the night before, while some strong ideas, such as the implicit criticism of a DEA that leaves families in the lurch or the reflection on what parents really pass on to their children when they bring danger home, are used as plot drivers rather than developed to their full potential. And yet, despite its inconsistencies, the film remains surprisingly watchable: the pace never really slows down, the relationship between Ray and Cody ends up drawing us in, and there is a real cinephile's pleasure in seeing Dave Bautista in a role where his physical presence serves as a shell for a character racked by guilt and doubt. This is perhaps the film's greatest achievement: even when the writing falls back on predictable twists or a slightly too neat ending accompanied by a nod to a sequel, the actors manage to bring to life emotions that are more complex than the concept would suggest.

Trap House feels like an excellent pitch that has found refuge in an honest but limited action product, caught between the desire to ride the wave of nostalgia for 1990s-2000s cable thrillers and the desire to exist in a contemporary landscape that is more aware of the political and human issues it manipulates. As entertainment, it delivers: the heists are tense, the cartels are scary, the friendships are believable, and Dave Bautista confirms, once again, that he deserves better vehicles than this one but knows how to make the most of what he's given. As a truly daring film that could have turned its own concept against the institutions it depicts, Trap House remains timid, as if its best ideas had been locked in the cautious cage of genre. What remains is an effective thriller, uneven but engaging.

Trap House
Directed by Michael Dowse
Written by Gary Scott Thompson, Tom O'Connor
Story by Gary Scott Thompson
Produced by Marc Goldberg, Sarah Gabriel, Dave Bautista, Jonathan Mesner, Michael Pruss, Rebecca Feuer, Christian Mecuri, Todd Lundbohm
Starring Dave Bautista, Jack Champion, Sophia Lillis, Tony Dalton, Whitney Peak, Inde Navarrette, Zaire Adams, Kate del Castillo, Bobby Cannavale
Cinematography: Matt Flannery
Edited by Tim Porter
Music by Amanda Yamate, Jack Latham
Production companies: Signature Films, Scott Free, Dogbone Entertainment, 828, Capstone Global
Distributed by Aura Entertainment (United States), Prime Video (France)
Release date: November 14, 2025 (United States), December 31, 2025 (France)
Running time: 102 minutes

Viewed January 1, 2026 on Prime Video

Mulder's Mark: