For the past 20 years, Tom Cruise has moulded himself into the dashing saviour of modern America.

He has rescued his countrymen and women from greed (The Firm), injustice (A Few Good Men), ignorance (Born On The Fourth Of July), nefarious spies (Mission: Impossible) and badly shaken martinis (Cocktail).

In Collateral, Cruise casts aside his highly polished golden boy image to play the villain, a transformation which suits him, although not entirely comfortably.

On a cold night like any other, a contract killer named Vincent (Cruise) arrives in Los Angeles.

He has been hired by an offshore drug trafficking cartel to erase five key players in an impending federal grand jury trial.

The unsuspecting targets are profiled on a state-of-the-art computer console contained within Vincent's briefcase - all five must fall before the night is over.

With just a few hours of darkness to complete his objective, Vincent hijacks a taxi-cab driven by Max (Jamie Foxx), a sweet-natured soul who has been ferrying people around the streets of Los Angeles for the past 12 years.

Using his considerable powers of persuasion and the threat of violence, Vincent forces Max to act as his chauffeur on the series of hits.

In the process, Max becomes an accessory to murder and his very survival becomes dependent on Vincent.

Meanwhile, undercover narcotics detective Fanning (Mark Ruffalo) sets about tracking down the cab and its deadly occupant.

His investigation crosses paths with Federal Agent Pedrosa (Bruce McGill), who will stop at nothing to bring down the cartel that hired Vincent.

Set over the course of one night, Collateral is a slickly contrived thriller, enlivened by brilliant direction from Michael Mann, who paints Los Angeles as a city of towering skyscrapers and smoky jazz clubs.

The pace remains taut from the moment Max comes face-to-face with Vincent's first victim, who lands rather unceremoniously on top of the cab, spraying the vehicle in blood and gore.

The escalating tension is fanned by nervous handheld camerawork and James Newton Howard's urgent orchestral score.

Cruise isn't entirely convincing - he can't resist the urge to flash his trademark grin and try to make us like Vincent, but Foxx more than compensates.

Conversations between the two men crackle and there's a nice diversion involving a visit to Max's mother (Irma P Hall) in hospital.

The action sequences, including a shoot-out in a packed nightclub and the climactic game of cat-and-mouse in a deserted high-rise office block, are impeccably executed. Take cover.