Man, what an awful film. As with many terrible films, the structure of its awfulness lies in the script. This is such a pathetic attempt at a psychological thriller that it gives the entire genre a bad name. Okay, here's one major problem: Sandra Bullock's character is abducted by Jeff Bridges in his car at a busy convenience store in broad daylight. Somehow, her boyfriend Kiefer Sutherland doesn't find a single witness to this act and subsequently spends most of the movie completely clueless as to her whereabouts. Come on! Personally, I find this completely insulting to even the dimmest of audience members. Yet we are forced to buy into this nonsense. Of equal frustration is the poorly explained motive for Jeff Bridges's actions. His character is a bit of an eccentric academic, to be sure, but far from the sociopath who would do these things. He goes through about ten minutes, give or take, spilling his beans to Sutherland as to why he has performed his cruel actions. But the explanation itself lacks even the most elementary sense of logic. Therefore, no intelligent audience member can really believe in the possibility of his evil. And if you subtract that element from the story, the entire thing falls apart.<br /><br />Also of major concern: -Jeff Bridges using a weird, pseudo-French accent for no reason.<br /><br />-The entire boring subplot involving Nancy Travis, most especially her saving the day by turning the tables on Bridges.<br /><br />-The crazy woman who somehow manages to remember Jeff Bridges' license plate number despite also thinking that the Lucky Charms leprechaun is real.<br /><br />-Sandra Bullock's character's name, Diane Shaver, conveniently re-scrambles to form the word "vanished". Are you friggin' kidding me?? -The logistical impossibility of drugging, abducting, and burying (in a very remote location) a human being within the span of forty minutes (as Bridges specifically alludes to).<br /><br />This is a movie that made me remember the fictional, impossibly stupid (yet very successful) Donald Kaufman character in Adaptation. Many screenwriters are brilliant, inspired artists. Some are just bozos who convince the nitwits running the studios to make their drivel. This particular script is so stunningly dimwitted that Donald Kaufman himself would have managed to sell it. Unfortunately for all of us in the real world, Todd Graff actually did.