Lean, mean, derivative variation on (well, it directly lifts everything from) Vacancy, has a married couple on the outs who are trying to rekindle the little flame still lit (played by a very likable David James Elliot, of JAG fame and a feisty, mouthy little number, Heather Marie Marsden) is left in their marriage. They are the unfortunate example of "passing through the wrong neck of the woods at the wrong time" kind of horror movie cliché, and a car purposely hits them so the couple will have to stay at a nearby fleabag motel at the insistence of Sheriff Jeff Fahey (his performance is actually inspired; he just fits perfectly into his role, suitable for the kind of growly, hick, trailer park "officer of the law" this requires). Supposedly, Fahey is the "whole law" of whatever Louisiana backwater town this film sets itself, but when a police officer arrives where James and Marsden were wrecked, and no car is there to be found, we realize that he's more or less a fiction rather than any sort of authentic sheriff no matter how he carries himself.
What I liked was that James is established as an ex-Marine, so when he starts succeeding in hand-to-hand combats and isn't someone who goes down easily, it isn't far-fetched. Plus, because he isn't a scumbag, it isn't too hard to side with him, while Heather's Nancy (considered by many viewers to be a cipher) isn't some bargain-basement weak damsel-in-distress type. She's got fire, and James may appear to be an easy target, he's tough, too. Michael Masden, as the owner of the motel, Royal Vista, is pretty much worthless. He spends his time in one room, and he's ridiculously out of place. He looks like some sort of Vegas gangster. The killers dress in tribal masks and Michael Myers-style work suits. They service the film as disposable victims for James, although there just isn't enough real tense action on screen, nor is the violence all that potent. Much more is implied than shown. Masden's part is truthfully a pathetic joke that could have been written out almost entirely. He is used to sale and rent the film out to unsuspecting victims, his face on the cover promising far more than is delivered.
Fahey is the show here. Just not enough in Terror Trap to satiate the intended audience. What is established is if you cross Masden or are no longer worth his time, you're toast. Opening scene with the delicious female with her blouse unbuttoned, laying eyes opened but dead, is a grabber. The couple might be defined mostly at the beginning, with a majority of the film having them go out of their room, only to be forced into another for their own safety, as the addicted eyes of twisted onlookers stare at screens showing them the action, but they aren't just absolute clichés which helps give a crap about them.