The film stars Jodie Foster and Kristen Stewart as a mother and daughter whose new home is invaded by burglars, played by Forest Whitaker, Jared Leto, and Dwight Yoakam.

[21] The final screenplay was similar in outline to the original one; there were minor changes in dialogue and specific moments, especially in the interaction between Meg and Sarah Altman due to Foster replacing Kidman.

Jodie Foster was previously occupied with directing duties of Flora Plum before its star Russell Crowe was injured and left the project, leading to that production's shutdown.

[33] In their analysis of Panic Room, Jyotsna Kapur contextualizes the film within a broader trend of conspiracy thrillers that explore themes of domestic vulnerability and parental anxiety.

Kapur identifies the film's narrative as emblematic of a shift in contemporary American cinema, where the domestic sphere, traditionally viewed as a space of safety, becomes a site of intrusion and threat.

They argue that Jodie Foster's character embodies a gendered portrayal of paranoia, marked by vulnerability and the blurring of rationality, reflecting societal anxieties about motherhood and the fragility of home life.

The panic room itself, a technological safeguard against invasion, becomes a paradoxical symbol of both protection and entrapment, highlighting the protagonist's isolation and the broader insecurities of the neoliberal era.

While the protagonist demonstrates resourcefulness and agency in confronting external threats, her portrayal simultaneously underscores traditional gendered associations with emotional instability and domestic responsibility.

According to Kapur, the film's emphasis on surveillance, technological dependency, and invasive danger encapsulates a pervasive cultural unease tied to the privatization of risk and the erosion of collective social safety nets.

[34] In Panic Room, the mother-daughter relationship between Meg and Sarah Altman is a focal point for exploring feminist and gender-related themes, as Lynne Stahl observes in The Velvet Light Trap.

The narrative constructs Meg's transformation from a seemingly fragile mother into a decisive protector as one driven by her reconnection to a tomboyish past, inspired by Sarah's embodiment of defiant femininity.

Kevin L. Ferguson, in their analysis published in the Journal of Medical Humanities, observes that the depiction of preteen Sarah Altman's (Kristen Stewart) diabetes is central to the film’s dramatic tension.

Her condition is revealed through subtle visual cues, such as her bedside refrigerator stocked with insulin and orange juice, as well as her sleek digital glucometer watch, which continuously displays her blood sugar levels.

Ferguson argues that this alignment positions diabetic self-care as a site of both personal discipline and external oversight, reflecting societal anxieties about control and dependence on technology.

Through its meticulous depiction of diabetic care and its integration into the narrative's central conflict, the film contributes to what Ferguson terms the "cinema of control", where illness becomes a tool for exploring themes of dependency and resilience.

The panic room, designed by Burnham, an African American character, becomes both a literal and metaphorical fortress for its white inhabitants, highlighting the racialized boundaries that define access to safety and privilege.

While Panic Room superficially aligns with domestic narratives of post-9/11 sociopolitical concerns, Ramuglia situates the film within broader ecological themes, particularly Robert Marzec's concept of "natural security".

The panic room, with its fortified and surveillant design, serves as a microcosm of ecological and national insecurities, mirroring both the protagonists' urban privilege and their dependency on fragile environmental systems.

Scenes depicting the panic room's surveillance system juxtaposed with the broader mansion highlight human reliance on mediated perceptions of space, akin to the Anthropocene's cognitive challenges of comprehending planetary scales.

The film's allegorical layering extends beyond the domestic sphere to address systemic inequalities, urban ecological dependencies, and the persistent illusions of self-sufficiency in a destabilized world.

[39] Peter King, in their article in Housing, Theory and Society, examines Panic Room as a lens to critique Gaston Bachelard's idealized concept of home as a space of privacy, security, and intimacy.

The titular panic room, a fortified sanctuary within the house, is both a symbol of ultimate security and an emblem of isolation and helplessness, highlighting the paradoxes inherent in the pursuit of absolute safety.

King situates the film within broader discussions of domesticity, contending that its portrayal of invasion and defense underscores the fragility of the dwelling's role in fostering ontological security.

[40] King further situates Panic Room within the context of housing research, emphasizing how Fincher's treatment of space and technology critiques the limitations of Bachelard's optimistic framework.

By framing the narrative as a battle for control over domestic space, the film reflects broader tensions in housing phenomena, where security measures can paradoxically generate new anxieties.

The film echoes the gothic tradition of Poe's tales, such as "The Premature Burial" and "The Fall of the House of Usher", by framing its narrative around the paradoxical entrapment of safety and fear.

Kitterman observes that the film's protagonist, Meg Altman, symbolizes an unconscious desire to confront mortality, a notion mirrored in Poe's characters who unwittingly court their fears by seeking refuge.

[53] Joe Morgenstern of The Wall Street Journal said, "Seven was stylishly gloomy, and Fight Club was smarmily pretentious, while Panic Room has been admirably stripped down to atmosphere as a function of architecture, and action as a consequence of character."

Though previsualization supervisor Ron Frankel wanted to include materials to show storyboard animation, the DVD was released as a single-disc edition with no audio commentary or other features.

[66] Howard Shore won from the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers an ASCAP Award in the Top Box Office Film music category for his scores for Panic Room and The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers.