Not that Untraceable deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as such gore-porn epics as Captivity and the four Saw flicks; it's far more restrained than those torture-fests. Certainly, the filmmakers see it more akin to Silence of the Lambs, employing depravity in service to a taut story centering on a strong woman. But comparing Untraceable to Silence of the Lambs is like comparing Lawrence of Arabia to Ishtar. Both involve desert settings, but the similarity ends there.
Lane gives the film her best shot; she's pretty much the only reason to see it. There's an intelligence mixed with ferocity that makes her performance compelling, far-more-so than anything else in the film.
For the sad truth is, once the killer's identity is revealed, there's very little left in Untraceable to keep audiences interested. It's pretty easy to see which of the supporting characters is going to end up dead, especially when one of them phones Marsh to tell her he's got the case figured out.
