Untraceable

If hypocrisy was a crime in movies, Untraceable would be facing a firing squad. How sad to see the fine, focused Diane Lane trapped in the role of a Portland, Oregon, FBI agent working the cyber-­crime unit. Her job is to find the creep (Joseph Cross) who mounts his digicam in front of the victims he tortures and kills, and then runs the video on his untraceable Web site. The more hits he gets on the site, the sooner the victim will die. And the hits keep on coming. Up next: a man boiling in battery acid. The perpetrators of the script think they're taking the high moral ground, showing us how we're degenerating into a society of sadistic voyeurs ever ready to log on to the suffering of others. And how are they doing this? By making a movie, directed with graphic intensity by Gregory Hoblit (Fracture), that shoves the torture right in our faces while inviting us to feel superior. Talk about your pious frauds. I've got a better way to show your disgust for Internet scum: Don't see Untraceable.

From The Archives Issue 119: October 12, 1972