Review of Untraceable (2008) by Iain S — 01 Jul 2009

Diane Lane stars in what seems to be the second in her series of 'Un' films, having previously appeared as an adulterer in 2002's Unfaithful. Presumably this is part of a trilogy, and judging by the quality trajectory of these films, her next project will most likely be Unwatchable...

Lane plays Jennifer Marsh, an investigator in the FBI's cybercrime division whose delightful day job of tracking paedophiles and identity thieves leads to a battle for survival when she discovers a website where people are gruesomely murdered live on air, with the speed of death determined by the number of people who log on to watch. As her enquiries lead her slowly to the killer, he takes an active interest in her; putting both Marsh and her family's lives in danger.

In a cast of little note, Colin Hanks is the only standout as Marsh's partner, Griffin Dowd, a character with a name that you only ever see in Hollywood films and for whom such a 'slick' name seems strangely incongruous given that he is essentially a computer nerd. Hanks, of course, is Tom's son and he not only looks like his father but sounds like him too. If 'Son of Forrest Gump' is ever greenlighted then the producers need look no further.

Untraceable is a glossy and polished piece of work, with an inventive storyline. The murders are suitably squirm-inducing and the film even dares to pose philosophical questions about the voyeuristic nature of society and how far people will go to be entertained by real-life horrific events. The unfolding drama of 9/11 on television sets around the World and the soap opera nature of O. J. Simpson's various captures and trials are evidence of how compelling such footage can be. At the end of the day, however, the film is just another unpleasantly gruesome potboiler which has aspirations to emulate modern classics such as Seven (a huge influence) and Silence Of The Lambs. That it fails to do so is unsurprising, however if watching people die screaming whilst C-list celebrities run about spouting police procedural cliches is your cup of sulphuric acid, then log on now.