Woman Trap: A dusty, B-movie romp in the middle of nowhere

Is it worth your time?

If you have a soft spot for pre-war crime fluff where everyone talks like they’re trying to impress a tough-talking editor, Woman Trap is a decent enough way to kill an hour. It’s for the folks who like their plots thin and their sunshine harsh. If you need a movie that actually makes sense or cares about physics, you’re probably going to have a rough time with this one.

The whole thing kicks off with a plane crash, which is basically the 1930s version of a "hey look over here!" sign. Once our reporter, Keat Shevlin, drags Buff Andrews out of the wreckage, the movie stops being about aviation and starts being about people sweating in suits while they wander through the California mountains.

The desert is the real star here

There’s this weird, frantic energy to the kidnapping plot that feels like it’s barely holding itself together. You can tell they ran out of ideas halfway through, so they just decided to dump everyone into a desert and see who gets thirsty first. The logic is a bit, uh, loose. Like, why would you take a hostage on a horse across a waterless void if you actually wanted the ransom money? It’s a bit silly.

There's a moment where the gang is bickering over water that feels strangely grounded, even if the acting is pure ham. Watching these guys try to act tough while they are clearly just trying to find a shaded rock to sit under for a minute is oddly relatable. It lacks the psychological weight you might find in something like The Prisoner of Zenda, but it has a certain scrappy charm.

• The gangsters spend way too much time posturing.
• The plane crash in the beginning is honestly better than the final shootout.
• The way the characters keep changing their allegiances is enough to give you whiplash.

Honestly, I kept waiting for the movie to do something profound, but it just never bothered. It’s happy to just be a B-movie, and honestly, that’s fine. It feels like someone just wanted to film a bunch of people running around in the sand and built a script around it. It’s not Svengali, that's for sure, but it doesn't need to be.

If you're watching this, just enjoy the hats. Everyone’s hats are always perfectly placed even after a three-day trek through the desert. It’s the small, dumb things that make these old movies fun, right? 🌵