A psychopath catches the public’s attention by torturing a cat on live streaming video. When he moves on to people, it becomes evident that there is method in his madness: His placard, "Kill with Me," always appears onscreen first, and it’s to be taken literally -- the more people who log in, the faster the victim dies. The FBI urges viewers not to log in, which of course has the opposite effect.

On the case is widowed FBI agent Jennifer Marsh (Diane Lane); her liaison with the Portland, Oregon police department is detective Eric Box (Billy Burke), and her assistant at the Bureau is Griffin Dowd (Colin Hanks, recognizably Tom’s son). The criminal keeps one step ahead of them through his intimate knowledge of computers, with which renders his video spots "untraceable."

Though Diane Lane has won much praise from critics, her choice of films has kept her unknown to most viewers. Untraceable might give her the exposure she deserves -- she must carry almost the entire 100 minutes of the film, and does so with flying colors. She is gripping as a widow and agent who is also trying to be a good mother to her young daughter, Annie (Perla Haney-Jardine).

The identity of the killer, Owen Reilly (Joseph Cross), is disclosed early on, which many might find a drawback. I did not, for all of Reilly’s accomplices -- the yous and mes who roam the Internet in search of thrills -- remain unnamed in the closing credits. They express themselves only in brief responses to each of the murderer’s shows, posted in chat rooms. Though the online responses from viewers are screened so briefly that we’ll need the DVD and a Pause button to be able to read them all, the ones I could decipher were ugly, moronic, and without compassion. If you think this is a mere plot device, you haven’t visited many Internet chat rooms or forums.

Screenwriters Robert Fyvolent, Mark Brinker, and Allison Burnett could have explored all of this in far greater depth. Should Reilly’s audience be considered coconspirators merely because they watch the torture and murder of another human being? Why are people so fascinated by the misfortune of others? Why do we rubberneck at the scene of an accident? Do our actions while surfing the Web increase the amount of violence in society? Have we sealed the death of privacy? Does watching constitute aiding and abetting?

Untraceable sidesteps such questions. Perhaps director Gregory Hoblit feared that if he tried to answer any of them too clearly he’d be perceived as being preachy or condescending. What we are given instead is a movie in which people seem to accept the events without interpreting them or making much comment on them.

In short, a great opportunity has been missed. As it stands, Untraceable is a decent, tidy thriller that provides a showcase for Diane Lane’s considerable talents, and provides mild shock value and some solid if derivative scenes of female empowerment. But had the director and screenwriters only dug deeper, they might have created a classic along the lines of Network. Instead, by skimming over the surface, all they’ve made is a well-crafted action film that will be forgotten by most viewers as soon as the next one like it comes along.

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