Jodie Foster is my hero.

Playing the character Meg Altman in the current box-office giant, “Panic Room”(Columbia, R), this reclusive actress stops everyone who’s ever sneered at the phrase “single mother” dead in their tracks with her powerful performance.

A newly divorced woman, Meg searches New York City’s streets for a new home with her teen-age daughter Sarah. Somewhat soft-spoken and perhaps a bit emotionally damaged from her recent separation, Meg is unfamiliar with having to pave her own way. She’s used to having decisions made for her by her wealthy former husband.

Coerced by both her daughter and her realtor into purchasing an expensive and eerily beautiful brownstone, Meg soon discovers that the home itself is more function than fun, to a major fault.

Hidden behind a fake wall in the master bedroom, a room is discovered that consists of concrete walls, a buried phone line, a row of surveillance monitors and its own ventilation system, all kept snug and safe behind a thick steel door.

“The panic room,” as it is referred to, was custom made for the home’s previous owner, a rich old coot who kicked the bucket leaving millions of unclaimed dollars that no one has been able to find. (Hint, hint.)

Once the basic plot line of the film is established, the audience is allowed to focus in on the most important aspect of the story, which is not the missing fortune, and not even the panic room itself, but the relationship between Foster’s character and her daughter, Sarah.

Less than a half-hour into the movie, during Meg and Sarah’s first night in their new home, three menacing burglars break in with hopes of discovering the previous inhabitant’s missing fortune, expected to be hidden within. Waking to the sound of the men in her home, Meg jumps into action, making the brave move to grab her daughter from her bed and run to the panic room to hide. (Surprise, surprise.)

Occupying the majority of the film in the panic room, Meg and Sarah watch the burglars from its now-useful monitors as they destroy their home and attempt to goad them out. It seems as though the fortune being sought is hidden in that very room. (Surprise, surprise.)

A typical Hollywood battle of the wits ensues between Meg and the three men, with no groundbreaking results. But the joy and beauty of the movie lies in the presence of Foster as a screen gem who can carry just about any movie single-handedly.

Exuding a presence that shames the character actors who play the evildoer house pirates (Forest Whitaker, Dwight Yoakam and the ever-splendid Jared Leto), Foster kicks butt the way only a scorned woman could.

Bluntly defined, “Panic Room” will not change your life, make you cry or even really make you have a well-developed thought – but it is fun. There are some really good action scenes, and it doesn’t leave you feeling like you’ve been robbed of your movie-going dollars.

If at all bored during the film, just picture Foster using her newly sculpted action star form to kick Julianne Moore’s butt for doing such a horrible job as Clarice Starling in “Hannibal.”

It could happen.