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The villain here is an evil cybergenius who sets up a webcam and attaches his victims to Rube Goldberg torture devices; these, in turn, are somehow hooked into a computer that measures the website’s hits. The more people who visit the site, the faster the victims die—and the visitors become accomplices through their own prurient interests. Name-checking the NSA and Daniel Pearl, Untraceable aspires to make a statement on culpability in the YouTube era—although by courting the Saw crowd with a series of increasingly grisly murders, the movie adheres to a calculus not dissimilar to the killer’s. Still, as hypocritical, borderline diseased, January-released knockoffs of Seven go, Untraceable is more involving than you might expect, thanks to Lane’s customary professionalism and a certain breezy absurdity.
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