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In Nightcrawler’s opening scene, we see Lou Bloom (Jake Gyllenhaal) trespassing on private property, stealing, and then assaulting a security guard. Yet there’s something strangely appealing about him — he justifies his immoralities with a constant stream of self-help mantras (“There is no better way to ensure job security than by making yourself indispensable”), and seems charming, innocent, and weirdly likeable as we watch him watering his plants in his tiny apartment and ironing his shirts in front of the TV. Dan Gilroy’s excellent screenplay never judges the character, and, as the underdog in a bleak job market, Lou’s drive and ambition are, at first, very admirable. However, there’s clearly something not quite right with this character, and the film slowly reveals a darkness and lack of empathy lurking beneath his every interaction.

Lou finds his calling when he happens upon the grisly site of a burning car and a badly injured woman. A freelance camera crew arrives on the scene, and Lou watches as they shove their cameras into the bleeding woman’s face, then rejoice at the fortune they’ll make selling their film to the morning news channels. Lou is inspired. On Venice Beach, he steals a bike, pawns it for a camcorder and a police scanner, and gets to work as an ambulance-chasing cameraman. After a shaky start, Lou gets the hang of the system. He takes on an “intern”, Rick (Riz Ahmed, turning in a desperately nervy performance), and goes into business with a local news producer, Nina (Rene Russo), who explains their ethos of “if it bleeds it leads” journalism: “Think of our newscast as a screaming woman, running down the street with her throat cut.” The local news channels operate by tapping into suburban fears, ignoring crimes in minority-group neighbourhoods in favour of wealthy, white victims of carjackings and home invasions, as Nina emphasises: “The story is urban crime creeping into the suburbs.”

Nightcrawler gradually grows into a ghoulish satire on modern media, mass unemployment and self-help books. Early on, we hear a frantic Lou recite his motto, “If you want to win the lottery, you have to make the money to buy a ticket”, to a number of prospective employers, telling them, “I need a job, I’ll do pretty much anything.” Lou’s complete lack of conscience or moral compass enables him to quickly excel in the business, and, as the story progresses, we learn just how far he is willing to go to get a good shot. “On TV it looks so real,” Lou murmurs in awe as he gazes at the studio backdrop of the Los Angeles skyline. On the streets, he applies a similar reasoning: he interprets gruesome murders not as real people, but as the stars of a scene to be filmed. He begins to manipulate crime scenes, carefully framing the accidents rather than helping the injured parties. Lou is happy to take risks for ever more vivid footage, breaking into the victim’s homes, and even dragging a bleeding body from a car wreck and positioning it so that the wounds glisten in the headlights.

Nightcrawler is dazzling to look at. Shot by the brilliant Robert Elswit (whose previous work includes There Will Be Blood and Good Night, and Good Luck), the film beautifully captures the nocturnal menace of Los Angeles’s streetscapes. It’s a masterful directorial debut from Gilroy, featuring an astonishing performance from Gyllenhaal. Following a powerful turn in last year’s Prisoners, Gyllenhaal brings a staggering intensity to the sociopathic character of Lou Bloom. He is wholly committed to convincing us of Lou’s all-consuming determination, and delivers a deeply unsettling, multi-layered performance that is both quietly terrifying and at times wickedly funny.

In one scene, Nina tells Lou, “I want something people can’t turn away from.” This is exactly what Gilroy has created in Nightcrawler, a film that truly gets under the skin.

Nightcrawler is released on October 31.