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If Pierce Brosnan is looking to distance himself from the suave, debonair James Bond persona, he couldn't have found a better role than wealthy drifter Julian Noble, who is so mean and dirty he should come with a warning label.

Julian is the object of fascination in the jet-black comedy "The Matador," about a hired killer suffering career burnout.

A callous womanizer who wears a scummy, uneven mustache and drinks like a fish with a liver problem, Julian instantly turns wherever he travels into the bad part of town. His occupation is technically a hit man, but Julian prefers the term "facilitator of fatalities."

Greg Kinnear is the definition of dorkiness as businessman Danny Wright, whom Julian meets at a hotel bar in Mexico City. Exiled from suburban Denver splendor, Danny heads out for a day on the town with Julian, including a bull fight and a dry-run in which Julian gives Danny a taste of his profession. As Danny gawks and chuckles like an awed tourist, Julian stalks an innocent man and improvises a perfect kill, complete with a diversion to distract the cops, an escape route and an enactment of the trade secret that it's best to knock off targets in the bathroom.

The unlikely friends make an endearing partnership, with Danny's stodgy uneasiness giving way to the dominant cocksureness of Julian. Life as a committed loner has left the killer lacking the social skills to deal with another human being, and Danny unwittingly trains Julian on how to act appropriately by refusing to deal with him when he steps over the line of decency.

Danny becomes a bit more of a killer when he hangs around Julian, and Julian becomes a bit more of a pal.

Writer/director Richard Shepard hammers his way through the prototypical buddy picture, whipping up an air of uneasiness that can and does explode into outright awkward confrontation at any moment. His razor-blade-lined dialogue continually blindsides you with snappy lines you'll want to hide away for later use at a party. Whenever you think you know where the story is headed, Shepard unleashes another hard twist. Much of his excellence comes not in his storytelling but in the way he sets up situations that ooze with comic conflict.

The film is set in two parts, one of which follows the two men's initial adventures, then picks up again at a point several months later, in which the effects both men had on each other have metastasized into dynamic turnarounds in worldviews.

There's a scene late in the film in which Julian shows up un- announced at the house Danny shares with his wife, Bean (Hope Davis), and Julian presses Danny's good-natured hospitality by asking Bean to share a dance. With a downward glance and a nervous twitch of the brow, Kinnear makes us feel his trepidation. It makes you almost too nervous to laugh, but not quite.