Now, I saw the flick in a fairly packed "press and industry" screening, and I certainly didn't see anyone fainting in that auditorium. Sleeping, maybe. Derisive chuckles, intermittently. Walk-outs, definitely. But no fainting. (Trapped Ashes is a four-story anthology that's about as shocking as a Tales from the Darkside marathon.) A Google News search yields nothing in the field of "trapped ashes fainting," but screenwriter/producer Dennis Bartok swears this isn't a marketing ploy: "I almost wish I'd thought this up as a publicity stunt, but it wasn't me or any of the other producers behind it." (Maybe it was one of the directors; Trapped Ashes has five of 'em.)
The good news is this: If and when you get to see Trapped Ashes, it will almost definitely be within the confines of your own living room, so you won't have to worry about embarrassing yourself as you faint all over the multiplex.