The "Retro Game Reviews" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
Gregory Hoblit is a man of considerable talents, and few will dispute this; even last year’s Fracture, flaws and all, was an intelligent, well-meaning thriller. The trailer for his new film, Untraceable, did not suggest the makings of a good film in any sense, yet with Hoblit at the helm, one could pray for more. As it turns out, Untraceable is as smart as a glass of water, and half as useful.
For those able to accept the incongruent use of technology, parts of the film may be tolerable, yet for anyone even mildly schooled in the use of computers, in a picture where government computers are not even equipped with popup blockers, you will be left laughing, incredibly frustrated, or a bit of both.
The lunacy does not stop there. Through and through, the script makes passive-aggressive attacks at cyber criminals; early on, those among us who illegally download MP3s are rapped on the knuckles, in a scene that makes a preposterous, misguided commentary, and is so simplistic in its technological explanation that it will likely insult most cinemagoers.
The eye-rolling family interludes begin to suffocate the picture little more than ten minutes in, and you don't have to have seen the trailer to know that this strand will return later. I already had ideas in my mind about where the plot was going, and who the killer would be, and I wanted to edge closer to those answers, yet we are shown our protagonist, FBI Agent Jennifer Marsh (Diane Lane), taking her child to school, and the ubiquity of technology in her life is made abundantly clear.
Soon enough, the FBI flag a website called "killwithme.com", and a local cat is the first poor victim of the serial killer's "terrifying" rampage. Soon enough, the psychopath kidnaps a human and begins torturing them live over the internet (via webcam). The twist? The more that the public log on, the quicker the person is killed, and people are logging on at an exponential rate. Our (at this point) faceless killer rinses and repeats this several times, whilst the FBI attempts to track our clever villain down.
The film is at least smart enough to posture the idea that the website is simply a "snuff film", rather than diving in with all guns blazing from the outset, but it serves as little more than an aside, and had this been the big film's "twist", Untraceable may have been a satisfying film, providing a satisfying commentary, when it instead provides the opposite on both counts.
Our ridiculously versatile killer soon bans all non-US IP addresses, so that only Americans can log on, and it further cements the film’s key idea, that we are all blood-hounds, but it, for some reason, centralises the idea to the US, which is pretty alienating to non-Americans, and pretty insulting to Americans.
Lane’s character declares the viewers are "not fans, they're accomplices", which is a rather hokey idea, and pretty insulting to the viewer. The film’s high concept transparently allegorises reality in an entirely unsuitable manner, considering the realities of the film's murders are not realistic and certainly not achievable with present technology. Even in the future, I expect that this film will be insulting. Yes, we as humans possess a natural curiosity about death, and yes, with the thriving "shock site” fan base, we sate that curiosity, but does that make us culpable, even in this film's context? Certainly not; it is part of the human condition.
The film’s most hilarious, and simultaneously eye-rolling scene, occurs as Detective Box (Billy Burke) seizes a set of pirate DVDs from a suspect. The FBI warning that appears on DVDs is displayed in the film, and I was left wondering why the screenwriters felt the need to slot this entirely incongruent scene in? Do they think that their savoury message will stop a 15-year old from downloading Dodgeball, let alone anyone else?
One of the few refreshing things about the film is that the killer is not kept behind smoke and mirrors for long, and the identity of the villain is not who you may expect. The "random psychopath" approach is far more accommodating for this type of film, although to never deal with the killer as a person, despite showing us his face, is, among many, one of the film's major flaws.
One of the film's dumber elements involves how the FBI obtain their first lead; it relies on nothing but the sheer idiocy of the killer, which would seem to conflict with his seeming intellect up to this point. It is as though the screenwriters wrote themselves into a corner, and this is the best that they could come up with. Naturally, the killer's intellect resumes as soon as it is suitable for the narrative, but such compromises to the film’s integrity are sigh-inducing.
Given the film’s “18” rating, one would not expect Hoblit to skirt around contentious issues. There is a very mild suggestion that our killer is a paedophile or sexual deviant of some sort, yet this is teased in such a coy, tiresome manner that it would have been best left alone entirely.
The killer is as sanctimonious as he is inconsistent, and similarly to Jigsaw from the Saw series, proclaims that he does not kill people, yet Hoblit, in some amazing fashion, has found a killer whose philosophy is even more tenuous and repugnant than that one.
In establishing the third act, the contrivances well and truly pile on; technological impossibilities stack up, and by this point, I just wanted Diane Lane to do what she was clearly going to anyway, and catch the perp.
There was one instance of fair tragedy in the third act, yet it is so glossed with convolution and accompanied by the killer's pontificating viewpoint that it barely remains above surface. Perhaps the only thing close to remarkable about this film is Diane Lane's performance, which whilst far from her best, nevertheless trumps everything else about this film.
The manner in which leads are obtained ranges from barely believable to brainlessly unreal, underneath the guise of esoteric, unrecognisable codes, which Lane just so happens to decode. The killer's motive, as hokey as it is, makes such contrivances mildly more tolerable, and forces one to consider the psychology of the situation, given how the killer has left rather deliberate clues on his home page. However, this minor intrigue is ruined when the killer begins to belittle the FBI, decrying personal freedom and again, it insults the audience.
The killer's emphatic statement about the savagery of the modern man, the future of technology and "televised murder" is ridiculous, and the phrase "they won't have trouble finding sponsors" is preposterous. Are we that far gone? I think the killer doesn't give the human race enough credit. Even considering the killer as a mentally disturbed individual, the sour taste ostensibly remains.
The film's end has a chance to be bold, and mildly redeem a pretty classless endeavour, yet again; it is comfortable in its generic, tiresome mediocrity. The only thing authentic about Untraceable is the “text speak” used in the chat rooms, which is pretty much the most intriguing aspect of the film; most films, even films considerably better than this, get this wrong.
Untraceable is a career low for Gregory Hoblit; it takes the idea of the savagery of human curiosity to the lengths of parody, and insults not only the viewer's intelligence, but perhaps their belief system also. Untraceable is devoid of any insight, intelligence or worthwhile performances; if you do decide to see Untraceable, I implore you to leave your cerebrum at the door.
Thanks for reading,
Reefer
For those able to accept the incongruent use of technology, parts of the film may be tolerable, yet for anyone even mildly schooled in the use of computers, in a picture where government computers are not even equipped with popup blockers, you will be left laughing, incredibly frustrated, or a bit of both.
The lunacy does not stop there. Through and through, the script makes passive-aggressive attacks at cyber criminals; early on, those among us who illegally download MP3s are rapped on the knuckles, in a scene that makes a preposterous, misguided commentary, and is so simplistic in its technological explanation that it will likely insult most cinemagoers.
The eye-rolling family interludes begin to suffocate the picture little more than ten minutes in, and you don't have to have seen the trailer to know that this strand will return later. I already had ideas in my mind about where the plot was going, and who the killer would be, and I wanted to edge closer to those answers, yet we are shown our protagonist, FBI Agent Jennifer Marsh (Diane Lane), taking her child to school, and the ubiquity of technology in her life is made abundantly clear.
Soon enough, the FBI flag a website called "killwithme.com", and a local cat is the first poor victim of the serial killer's "terrifying" rampage. Soon enough, the psychopath kidnaps a human and begins torturing them live over the internet (via webcam). The twist? The more that the public log on, the quicker the person is killed, and people are logging on at an exponential rate. Our (at this point) faceless killer rinses and repeats this several times, whilst the FBI attempts to track our clever villain down.
The film is at least smart enough to posture the idea that the website is simply a "snuff film", rather than diving in with all guns blazing from the outset, but it serves as little more than an aside, and had this been the big film's "twist", Untraceable may have been a satisfying film, providing a satisfying commentary, when it instead provides the opposite on both counts.
Our ridiculously versatile killer soon bans all non-US IP addresses, so that only Americans can log on, and it further cements the film’s key idea, that we are all blood-hounds, but it, for some reason, centralises the idea to the US, which is pretty alienating to non-Americans, and pretty insulting to Americans.
Lane’s character declares the viewers are "not fans, they're accomplices", which is a rather hokey idea, and pretty insulting to the viewer. The film’s high concept transparently allegorises reality in an entirely unsuitable manner, considering the realities of the film's murders are not realistic and certainly not achievable with present technology. Even in the future, I expect that this film will be insulting. Yes, we as humans possess a natural curiosity about death, and yes, with the thriving "shock site” fan base, we sate that curiosity, but does that make us culpable, even in this film's context? Certainly not; it is part of the human condition.
The film’s most hilarious, and simultaneously eye-rolling scene, occurs as Detective Box (Billy Burke) seizes a set of pirate DVDs from a suspect. The FBI warning that appears on DVDs is displayed in the film, and I was left wondering why the screenwriters felt the need to slot this entirely incongruent scene in? Do they think that their savoury message will stop a 15-year old from downloading Dodgeball, let alone anyone else?
One of the few refreshing things about the film is that the killer is not kept behind smoke and mirrors for long, and the identity of the villain is not who you may expect. The "random psychopath" approach is far more accommodating for this type of film, although to never deal with the killer as a person, despite showing us his face, is, among many, one of the film's major flaws.
One of the film's dumber elements involves how the FBI obtain their first lead; it relies on nothing but the sheer idiocy of the killer, which would seem to conflict with his seeming intellect up to this point. It is as though the screenwriters wrote themselves into a corner, and this is the best that they could come up with. Naturally, the killer's intellect resumes as soon as it is suitable for the narrative, but such compromises to the film’s integrity are sigh-inducing.
Given the film’s “18” rating, one would not expect Hoblit to skirt around contentious issues. There is a very mild suggestion that our killer is a paedophile or sexual deviant of some sort, yet this is teased in such a coy, tiresome manner that it would have been best left alone entirely.
The killer is as sanctimonious as he is inconsistent, and similarly to Jigsaw from the Saw series, proclaims that he does not kill people, yet Hoblit, in some amazing fashion, has found a killer whose philosophy is even more tenuous and repugnant than that one.
In establishing the third act, the contrivances well and truly pile on; technological impossibilities stack up, and by this point, I just wanted Diane Lane to do what she was clearly going to anyway, and catch the perp.
There was one instance of fair tragedy in the third act, yet it is so glossed with convolution and accompanied by the killer's pontificating viewpoint that it barely remains above surface. Perhaps the only thing close to remarkable about this film is Diane Lane's performance, which whilst far from her best, nevertheless trumps everything else about this film.
The manner in which leads are obtained ranges from barely believable to brainlessly unreal, underneath the guise of esoteric, unrecognisable codes, which Lane just so happens to decode. The killer's motive, as hokey as it is, makes such contrivances mildly more tolerable, and forces one to consider the psychology of the situation, given how the killer has left rather deliberate clues on his home page. However, this minor intrigue is ruined when the killer begins to belittle the FBI, decrying personal freedom and again, it insults the audience.
The killer's emphatic statement about the savagery of the modern man, the future of technology and "televised murder" is ridiculous, and the phrase "they won't have trouble finding sponsors" is preposterous. Are we that far gone? I think the killer doesn't give the human race enough credit. Even considering the killer as a mentally disturbed individual, the sour taste ostensibly remains.
The film's end has a chance to be bold, and mildly redeem a pretty classless endeavour, yet again; it is comfortable in its generic, tiresome mediocrity. The only thing authentic about Untraceable is the “text speak” used in the chat rooms, which is pretty much the most intriguing aspect of the film; most films, even films considerably better than this, get this wrong.
Untraceable is a career low for Gregory Hoblit; it takes the idea of the savagery of human curiosity to the lengths of parody, and insults not only the viewer's intelligence, but perhaps their belief system also. Untraceable is devoid of any insight, intelligence or worthwhile performances; if you do decide to see Untraceable, I implore you to leave your cerebrum at the door.
Thanks for reading,
Reefer
There have been no replies to this thread yet.
Gregory Hoblit is a man of considerable talents, and few will dispute this; even last year’s Fracture, flaws and all, was an intelligent, well-meaning thriller. The trailer for his new film, Untraceable, did not suggest the makings of a good film in any sense, yet with Hoblit at the helm, one could pray for more. As it turns out, Untraceable is as smart as a glass of water, and half as useful.
For those able to accept the incongruent use of technology, parts of the film may be tolerable, yet for anyone even mildly schooled in the use of computers, in a picture where government computers are not even equipped with popup blockers, you will be left laughing, incredibly frustrated, or a bit of both.
The lunacy does not stop there. Through and through, the script makes passive-aggressive attacks at cyber criminals; early on, those among us who illegally download MP3s are rapped on the knuckles, in a scene that makes a preposterous, misguided commentary, and is so simplistic in its technological explanation that it will likely insult most cinemagoers.
The eye-rolling family interludes begin to suffocate the picture little more than ten minutes in, and you don't have to have seen the trailer to know that this strand will return later. I already had ideas in my mind about where the plot was going, and who the killer would be, and I wanted to edge closer to those answers, yet we are shown our protagonist, FBI Agent Jennifer Marsh (Diane Lane), taking her child to school, and the ubiquity of technology in her life is made abundantly clear.
Soon enough, the FBI flag a website called "killwithme.com", and a local cat is the first poor victim of the serial killer's "terrifying" rampage. Soon enough, the psychopath kidnaps a human and begins torturing them live over the internet (via webcam). The twist? The more that the public log on, the quicker the person is killed, and people are logging on at an exponential rate. Our (at this point) faceless killer rinses and repeats this several times, whilst the FBI attempts to track our clever villain down.
The film is at least smart enough to posture the idea that the website is simply a "snuff film", rather than diving in with all guns blazing from the outset, but it serves as little more than an aside, and had this been the big film's "twist", Untraceable may have been a satisfying film, providing a satisfying commentary, when it instead provides the opposite on both counts.
Our ridiculously versatile killer soon bans all non-US IP addresses, so that only Americans can log on, and it further cements the film’s key idea, that we are all blood-hounds, but it, for some reason, centralises the idea to the US, which is pretty alienating to non-Americans, and pretty insulting to Americans.
Lane’s character declares the viewers are "not fans, they're accomplices", which is a rather hokey idea, and pretty insulting to the viewer. The film’s high concept transparently allegorises reality in an entirely unsuitable manner, considering the realities of the film's murders are not realistic and certainly not achievable with present technology. Even in the future, I expect that this film will be insulting. Yes, we as humans possess a natural curiosity about death, and yes, with the thriving "shock site” fan base, we sate that curiosity, but does that make us culpable, even in this film's context? Certainly not; it is part of the human condition.
The film’s most hilarious, and simultaneously eye-rolling scene, occurs as Detective Box (Billy Burke) seizes a set of pirate DVDs from a suspect. The FBI warning that appears on DVDs is displayed in the film, and I was left wondering why the screenwriters felt the need to slot this entirely incongruent scene in? Do they think that their savoury message will stop a 15-year old from downloading Dodgeball, let alone anyone else?
One of the few refreshing things about the film is that the killer is not kept behind smoke and mirrors for long, and the identity of the villain is not who you may expect. The "random psychopath" approach is far more accommodating for this type of film, although to never deal with the killer as a person, despite showing us his face, is, among many, one of the film's major flaws.
One of the film's dumber elements involves how the FBI obtain their first lead; it relies on nothing but the sheer idiocy of the killer, which would seem to conflict with his seeming intellect up to this point. It is as though the screenwriters wrote themselves into a corner, and this is the best that they could come up with. Naturally, the killer's intellect resumes as soon as it is suitable for the narrative, but such compromises to the film’s integrity are sigh-inducing.
Given the film’s “18” rating, one would not expect Hoblit to skirt around contentious issues. There is a very mild suggestion that our killer is a paedophile or sexual deviant of some sort, yet this is teased in such a coy, tiresome manner that it would have been best left alone entirely.
The killer is as sanctimonious as he is inconsistent, and similarly to Jigsaw from the Saw series, proclaims that he does not kill people, yet Hoblit, in some amazing fashion, has found a killer whose philosophy is even more tenuous and repugnant than that one.
In establishing the third act, the contrivances well and truly pile on; technological impossibilities stack up, and by this point, I just wanted Diane Lane to do what she was clearly going to anyway, and catch the perp.
There was one instance of fair tragedy in the third act, yet it is so glossed with convolution and accompanied by the killer's pontificating viewpoint that it barely remains above surface. Perhaps the only thing close to remarkable about this film is Diane Lane's performance, which whilst far from her best, nevertheless trumps everything else about this film.
The manner in which leads are obtained ranges from barely believable to brainlessly unreal, underneath the guise of esoteric, unrecognisable codes, which Lane just so happens to decode. The killer's motive, as hokey as it is, makes such contrivances mildly more tolerable, and forces one to consider the psychology of the situation, given how the killer has left rather deliberate clues on his home page. However, this minor intrigue is ruined when the killer begins to belittle the FBI, decrying personal freedom and again, it insults the audience.
The killer's emphatic statement about the savagery of the modern man, the future of technology and "televised murder" is ridiculous, and the phrase "they won't have trouble finding sponsors" is preposterous. Are we that far gone? I think the killer doesn't give the human race enough credit. Even considering the killer as a mentally disturbed individual, the sour taste ostensibly remains.
The film's end has a chance to be bold, and mildly redeem a pretty classless endeavour, yet again; it is comfortable in its generic, tiresome mediocrity. The only thing authentic about Untraceable is the “text speak” used in the chat rooms, which is pretty much the most intriguing aspect of the film; most films, even films considerably better than this, get this wrong.
Untraceable is a career low for Gregory Hoblit; it takes the idea of the savagery of human curiosity to the lengths of parody, and insults not only the viewer's intelligence, but perhaps their belief system also. Untraceable is devoid of any insight, intelligence or worthwhile performances; if you do decide to see Untraceable, I implore you to leave your cerebrum at the door.
Thanks for reading,
Reefer
For those able to accept the incongruent use of technology, parts of the film may be tolerable, yet for anyone even mildly schooled in the use of computers, in a picture where government computers are not even equipped with popup blockers, you will be left laughing, incredibly frustrated, or a bit of both.
The lunacy does not stop there. Through and through, the script makes passive-aggressive attacks at cyber criminals; early on, those among us who illegally download MP3s are rapped on the knuckles, in a scene that makes a preposterous, misguided commentary, and is so simplistic in its technological explanation that it will likely insult most cinemagoers.
The eye-rolling family interludes begin to suffocate the picture little more than ten minutes in, and you don't have to have seen the trailer to know that this strand will return later. I already had ideas in my mind about where the plot was going, and who the killer would be, and I wanted to edge closer to those answers, yet we are shown our protagonist, FBI Agent Jennifer Marsh (Diane Lane), taking her child to school, and the ubiquity of technology in her life is made abundantly clear.
Soon enough, the FBI flag a website called "killwithme.com", and a local cat is the first poor victim of the serial killer's "terrifying" rampage. Soon enough, the psychopath kidnaps a human and begins torturing them live over the internet (via webcam). The twist? The more that the public log on, the quicker the person is killed, and people are logging on at an exponential rate. Our (at this point) faceless killer rinses and repeats this several times, whilst the FBI attempts to track our clever villain down.
The film is at least smart enough to posture the idea that the website is simply a "snuff film", rather than diving in with all guns blazing from the outset, but it serves as little more than an aside, and had this been the big film's "twist", Untraceable may have been a satisfying film, providing a satisfying commentary, when it instead provides the opposite on both counts.
Our ridiculously versatile killer soon bans all non-US IP addresses, so that only Americans can log on, and it further cements the film’s key idea, that we are all blood-hounds, but it, for some reason, centralises the idea to the US, which is pretty alienating to non-Americans, and pretty insulting to Americans.
Lane’s character declares the viewers are "not fans, they're accomplices", which is a rather hokey idea, and pretty insulting to the viewer. The film’s high concept transparently allegorises reality in an entirely unsuitable manner, considering the realities of the film's murders are not realistic and certainly not achievable with present technology. Even in the future, I expect that this film will be insulting. Yes, we as humans possess a natural curiosity about death, and yes, with the thriving "shock site” fan base, we sate that curiosity, but does that make us culpable, even in this film's context? Certainly not; it is part of the human condition.
The film’s most hilarious, and simultaneously eye-rolling scene, occurs as Detective Box (Billy Burke) seizes a set of pirate DVDs from a suspect. The FBI warning that appears on DVDs is displayed in the film, and I was left wondering why the screenwriters felt the need to slot this entirely incongruent scene in? Do they think that their savoury message will stop a 15-year old from downloading Dodgeball, let alone anyone else?
One of the few refreshing things about the film is that the killer is not kept behind smoke and mirrors for long, and the identity of the villain is not who you may expect. The "random psychopath" approach is far more accommodating for this type of film, although to never deal with the killer as a person, despite showing us his face, is, among many, one of the film's major flaws.
One of the film's dumber elements involves how the FBI obtain their first lead; it relies on nothing but the sheer idiocy of the killer, which would seem to conflict with his seeming intellect up to this point. It is as though the screenwriters wrote themselves into a corner, and this is the best that they could come up with. Naturally, the killer's intellect resumes as soon as it is suitable for the narrative, but such compromises to the film’s integrity are sigh-inducing.
Given the film’s “18” rating, one would not expect Hoblit to skirt around contentious issues. There is a very mild suggestion that our killer is a paedophile or sexual deviant of some sort, yet this is teased in such a coy, tiresome manner that it would have been best left alone entirely.
The killer is as sanctimonious as he is inconsistent, and similarly to Jigsaw from the Saw series, proclaims that he does not kill people, yet Hoblit, in some amazing fashion, has found a killer whose philosophy is even more tenuous and repugnant than that one.
In establishing the third act, the contrivances well and truly pile on; technological impossibilities stack up, and by this point, I just wanted Diane Lane to do what she was clearly going to anyway, and catch the perp.
There was one instance of fair tragedy in the third act, yet it is so glossed with convolution and accompanied by the killer's pontificating viewpoint that it barely remains above surface. Perhaps the only thing close to remarkable about this film is Diane Lane's performance, which whilst far from her best, nevertheless trumps everything else about this film.
The manner in which leads are obtained ranges from barely believable to brainlessly unreal, underneath the guise of esoteric, unrecognisable codes, which Lane just so happens to decode. The killer's motive, as hokey as it is, makes such contrivances mildly more tolerable, and forces one to consider the psychology of the situation, given how the killer has left rather deliberate clues on his home page. However, this minor intrigue is ruined when the killer begins to belittle the FBI, decrying personal freedom and again, it insults the audience.
The killer's emphatic statement about the savagery of the modern man, the future of technology and "televised murder" is ridiculous, and the phrase "they won't have trouble finding sponsors" is preposterous. Are we that far gone? I think the killer doesn't give the human race enough credit. Even considering the killer as a mentally disturbed individual, the sour taste ostensibly remains.
The film's end has a chance to be bold, and mildly redeem a pretty classless endeavour, yet again; it is comfortable in its generic, tiresome mediocrity. The only thing authentic about Untraceable is the “text speak” used in the chat rooms, which is pretty much the most intriguing aspect of the film; most films, even films considerably better than this, get this wrong.
Untraceable is a career low for Gregory Hoblit; it takes the idea of the savagery of human curiosity to the lengths of parody, and insults not only the viewer's intelligence, but perhaps their belief system also. Untraceable is devoid of any insight, intelligence or worthwhile performances; if you do decide to see Untraceable, I implore you to leave your cerebrum at the door.
Thanks for reading,
Reefer