Fun With Michael and Arthur

Movie Review:
Michael Clayton

R / 2 hrs., 0 min. / 2007

When a company gets into legal difficulties, it turns to a law firm. But where does the law firm turn when its lawyers get into trouble? For the powerful association of Kenner, Bach & Ledeen, their in-house problem solver is Michael Clayton (George Clooney).

The firm is six years into a class action lawsuit, defending the U-North corporation against farmers who claim the company’s agricultural chemicals are causing severe health problems. The U-North staff legal consultant, Karen Crowder (Tilda Swinton), hopes that Kenner, Bach & Ledeen can ultimately sweep the whole lawsuit aside.

But the delicate situation erupts when Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson), the defense’s leading attorney in the case, suffers a nervous breakdown: He strips off his clothes during the prosecution’s deposition, expresses love for one of the plaintiffs, runs naked through the parking lot, and begins to publicly assert that perhaps U-North is guilty as sin. To say this does not bode well for Kenner, Bach & Ledeen is an understatement: U-North could very easily pull the case out from under them, resulting in a financial loss so great that the firm would fold.

Michael Clayton’s assignment, then, is to rein in Edens and smooth the whole situation over. As firm partner Marty Bach (Sydney Pollack) subtly phrases it, “I’m telling you that by this time next week, Arthur will be under control.” But Edens will not be corralled so easily; and as Clayton follows Edens’ trail, he begins to suspect that maybe Edens is on to something.

On one hand, Michael Clayton is a standard legal thriller. Well-dressed lawyers racing to save their cases and whole reputations, powerful people hiding dark secrets, shady figures skulking in shadows – it’s all there. And despite its central legal case, it’s not a propaganda film attempting to blame the world’s ills on corporate greed and capitalism; it’s just a legal thriller.

On the other hand, it is not “just” a legal thriller. Michael Clayton is an original take on the genre that is crafted with such excellence that it rises far above its peers. The excellence begins with Tony Gilroy, who both writes and directs. Gilroy was comfortably ensconced in the writer’s chair – most notably for the recent adaptations of The Bourne Identity and its sequels – before making Michael Clayton his directorial debut.

What is stunning is that Gilroy works like a seasoned director who has already learned the difference between cheap gimmicks and real storytelling. He wisely avoids the shaky, hand-held camera work that is so popular today, and which has been used by other directors to no good purpose when bringing Gilroy’s scripts to the screen. Instead, Gilroy treats Michael Clayton with the calm confidence it deserves.

This confidence is reflected in the film’s pace, mistaken by impatient viewers as being too slow, but which is suitably deliberate. Some films – too many, in fact – seem to look the audience in the eye and say, “Here’s what this movie is about, and let’s get to it!” In contrast, Michael Clayton quietly lays out various threads – Clayton’s gambling, a hit-and-run accident, a nosey reporter – before the film’s primary story comes into focus. This will severely irritate those who like to be spoon-fed their entertainment, but it adds a nice layer for the rest of us who are in the mood to actually think about the movie we’re watching.

Additionally, having just watched the film again on DVD over two years after seeing it in theaters, I find it interesting how the film avoids being concerned merely with finding out who is committing what crime. Indeed, the crime is fairly obvious; Marty Bach even knows what it is, but it’s his job as defense to hide it from the prosecution team. The question is what will Clayton do with what he learns. Add to this the weight Clayton feels from financial troubles, family troubles, and unfulfilled career ambitions, and we get a film that is really about a person, not just a plot.

Playing this burdened soul is George Clooney (Syriana), who continues his streak of excellence by portraying Clayton as suave, confident, debonair – and tired. Clayton owes someone a large debt, and dialogue suggests the lender is less than kind about defaulting on a loan. His marriage is broken apart, he gambles, and he wearily refers to himself not as a legal fixer, but as a janitor. While it is standard Clooney, without any quirks or qualities to distinguish himself from the character he’s playing, he definitely finds all the right notes at all the right times.

Supporting Clooney are Tilda Swinton (The Beach) as a fraying wreck who does everything she can to maintain the unruffled exterior her company expects of her; Sydney Pollack (Tootsie) as Clooney’s boss in a performance that reminds me of how good Pollack is both behind and in front of the camera; and Tom Wilkinson (Batman Begins) as the attorney who may or may not have lost his mind. The voice-over that begins the film may sound like the ravings of insanity; but in retrospect they are very carefully chosen words, and Wilkinson’s delivery of them is an unforgettable introduction.

Director of Photography Robert Elswit subtly creates a very moody production not with any particularly original camera angles, but through the highly contrasted lighting in critical scenes. Shadows are darker here than they would be in real life, but the effect works to amplify the dark truths being uncovered in Clayton’s pursuit.

And composer James Newton Howard avoids a full-scale action feeling. He is keenly aware that the drama is calm on the exterior, with the danger being in the subtext. Like much of his score for The Fugitive, Howard keeps it low-key with some synthesizers and a select few acoustic instruments.

If the film has weaknesses, they are minor. There is a prologue sequence that does little more than get our attention before misleading us, and which could have been dropped entirely without hurting the story. There’s also a great deal of vulgar language. I suppose there’s a certain realism to it, but I’m not a big fan of excessive use of a certain obscenity which happens to be peppered throughout the script.

And some will consider the ending a bit too clean, perhaps. Real life doesn’t always tie up all the loose ends so conveniently. But then, I don’t pay good money to go sit in a theater and watch real life; I can do that for free on a daily basis. It’s always nice to experience a little poetic justice escapism.

I always sit through an entire movie, even the pesky ending credits most people ignore. The credits for Michael Clayton reveal something I find very interesting: There are no special effects departments listed. I submit that a movie does not require a barrage of explosions, chase scenes, and computer-generated fiends to be gripping. It requires a strong story brought competently to the screen by a skilled cast and crew. Michael Clayton is such a movie.

My Score: 9