following the erosion of tragic heros (et tu, brute?) to anti heros (Marv from Sin City, Batman) the next logical step would not only be someone with no redeemable qualities or tragic flaw, save for the fact that the tragic flaw is his very existence. but no, because he is the lineage of tragic heros, one cannot condemn him. And that is Vincent, the assassin in Collateral.

He is not amoral. neither is he confused. he is just very logical. after his first hit, a confused and scared max, the cab driver, sputters on, questioning how he could kill the man.

Vincent: Max, six billion people on the planet, you're getting bent out of shape cause of one fat guy.
Max: Well, who was he?
Vincent: What do you care? Have you ever heard of Rwanda?
Max: Yes, I know Rwanda.
Vincent: Well, tens of thousands killed before sundown. Nobody's killed people that fast since Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Did you bat an eye, Max?
Max: What?
Vincent: Did you join Amnesty International, Oxfam, Save the Whales, Greenpeace, or something? No. I off one fat Angelino and you throw a hissy fit.
Max: Man, I don't know any Rwandans.
Vincent: You don't know the guy in the trunk, either.

with reasons as plain as that, i might be so inclined to off someone myself. what vincent lacks isn't a heart. he did save max's life in the nightclub scene. what vincent does is partition - cruelly, cold-heartedly.

billed as a thriller, the movie is actually more of what happens in between. the action scenes could be sliced right out and the movie would still shine. max's growing confidence and vincent who somehow somehow you think theres something about him and you don't want to write him off as a villian.

ironic how vincent dies in a subway. in the beginning of the movie, he says to max :

Max: First time in L.A.?
Vincent: No. Tell you the truth, whenever I'm here I can't wait to leave. It's too sprawled out, disconnected. You know? That's me. You like it?
Max: It's my home.
Vincent: 17 million people. This is got to be the fifth biggest economy in the world and nobody knows each other. I read about this guy who gets on the MTA here, dies.
Max: Oh.
Vincent: Six hours he's riding the subway before anybody notices his corpse doing laps around L.A., people on and off sitting next to him. Nobody notices.

so is vincent the by-product of urban living? alienated, disconnected. is he emotionally flaccid, or just guarded? whatever it is, vincent is a caricature of who we all could be.

call it the perks of being alive.