Showing posts with label
Films of the First Decade of the 2000s.
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Showing posts with label
Films of the First Decade of the 2000s.
Show all posts

Director Gregory Hoblit’s Untraceable delivers its message of internet desensitization a bit heavy-handedly, but as a thriller, it’s one hell of a tense ride!
FBI agent Jennifer Marsh (Diane Lane) and her partner Griffin Down (Colin Hanks) have teamed with detective Eric Box (Billy Burke) of the Portland police department to track down a serial killer, one who live-streams his murders over the internet. In fact, the more visitors the killer’s website (killwithme.com) receives, the faster his victims perish, often in the most brutal ways imaginable.
An expert in cybercrime, Marsh does what she can to pinpoint the killer’s whereabouts, only to be frustrated at every turn. And now that the investigators have put themselves in this psychopath’s crosshairs, it may only be a matter of time before one of them becomes his next victim.
Diane Lane is superb as Agent Marsh, a dedicated investigator juggling her professional responsibilities with being a single mom (her daughter Annie is played by Perla Haney-Jardine), while Hanks, Burke, and Mary Beth Hurt (as Marsh’s mother, Stella) are solid is support.
It’s the story of an internet killer, though, and the manner in which his victims are slaughtered, where Untraceable truly distinguishes itself. Using everything from heat lamps to sulfuric acid, the killer leaves it up to his audience as to how quickly his “subjects” die. The more viral the video goes, the faster the death. And these killings are vicious! The subjects do not die quickly; even late in the film, when the viewership numbers jump exponentially by the second, these poor souls suffer for what seems like an eternity, making each fresh kill tougher to watch than the last.
Director Hoblit and screenwriters Robert Fyvolent, Mark Brinker, and Allison Burnett also throw us for a loop at one point. The killer’s identity remains a well-kept secret until just before the movie’s halfway mark, at which point we the audience finally see his face. Yet his motives, his exact whereabouts, even his identity remain a mystery. It is as if the filmmakers were toying with us in much the same way the killer toys with the police and the FBI. In most thrillers, an early glimpse of the villain functions as an “a-ha” moment, an exposé that answers a few questions we might have had up to that point. In Untraceable, we see his face. That’s all we get, and just like before this slight reveal, we’re relying on Agent Marsh to fill in the rest of the blanks.
As mentioned, Untraceable is not subtle about what it’s trying to teach us. The internet has made the world a much smaller place, granting anyone and everyone access to grisly real-life images and shocking news videos from around the world. With mayhem and murder a simple Google search away, we have become passive observers, taking in real-life violence as if it were nothing more than a TV show, with no concern whatsoever for the people whose lives have been forever changed.
Yet while Untraceable may deliver its message with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer, this does not detract at all from the film’s overall effectiveness. A taut police procedural and a first-class thriller, Untraceable will have you nervously biting your nails from start to finish.
Rating: 8.5 out of 10

I never read the comic, and I doubt I saw a single episode of the cartoon series from start to finish, but man oh man did I have fun with 2001’s Josie and the Pussycats!
It is every bit a comic book movie, a film pitched at the level of a cartoon, and yet there are aspects that rise above these over-the-top inspirations, resulting in a musical / comedy that I absolutely adore.
Following the “inexplicable” disappearance of popular boy band DuJour, producer Wyatt Frame (Alan Cummings) of MegaRecords is on the lookout for the label’s next superstars. As luck would have it, he stumbles upon Riverdale’s most underappreciated band, The Pussycats. All at once, lead singer Josie (Rachael Leigh Cook), bassist Valerie (Rosario Dawson), and drummer Melody (Tara Ried) go from who-the-hell-are-they to rock sensations.
But there’s more to their meteoric rise than meets the eye, and if MegaRecords chief executive Fiona (Parker Posey) has her way, the band, now billed as Josie and the Pussycats, will not only rake in millions, but also help her label control every aspect of American pop culture. The question is: to what end?
Josie and the Pussycats establishes its over-the-top, comic-book mentality during the pre-title sequence, where we’re introduced to boy band DuJoir (Donal Faison, Seth Green, Brecklin Meyer and Alexander Martin). After performing for their fans at the airport, DuJour hops aboard a private jet, arguing with one another the whole time, much to the chagrin of manager Wyatt (superbly played by Alan Cumming). This gets the film off to a fun start, yet what grounds the movie, keeping it from becoming a total cartoon, is the camaraderie of the three main characters, so well-portrayed by Cook, Dawson, and Ried. As everything around them spirals out of control, Josie and Valerie remain grounded, while Melody, the flightiest of the trio, is blissfully ignorant of the unbelievable events that led to the band’s overnight success. The chemistry between the three is what gives Josie and the Pussycats its heart, and we root for the trio every step of the way. In a world of product placement and subliminal messages, the Pussycats remain the film’s focal point, musicians enjoying a success they realize is unlikely, and maybe even a little scary.
Another great feature of Josie and the Pussycats is the music, almost all of which was written for the film. From the opening tune by DuJour (“DuJour Around the World”) to the Pussycats’ “Three Small Words”, which they first perform at Riverdale’s local bowling palace, the music is catchy and entertaining. Not a single tune falls flat. In addition to the original numbers, there’s a great use of Meatloaf’s mega-hit “Paradise by the Dashboard Light”, which plays briefly during a pivotal scene.
Cummings and Posey are at their manic best as the baddies (and kudos to writers / directors Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont for actually making us care a little about them before the credits roll), but it’s Cook, Dawson, Ried, and the music that make Josie and the Pussycats such a wonderful surprise. This movie was off my radar for years, and I feel like a fool for not having seen it sooner.
Rating: 9 out of 10