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Michael Clayton
Reviewed by Theo Michelfeld
Posted: October 10, 2007

There’s a bizarre myth floating around out there (no doubt inflated by each new generation of intellectual and jaded filmgoers) that Hollywood movies are all sinister tools of corporate greed and manipulation, and that only foreign and independent films are genuine and sincere works of art. I would have to say that’s not so much true as it is logically impossible. Yes, money does buy cynical, trashy, shameless profit monsters like Spider-Man 3 or Michael Bay’s Transformers. But when you consider the double-edged sword of capitalism, don’t forget the edge that works in humanity’s favor. Money also buys quality—great actors, directors, and screenwriters, for instance. And while the studios still want to convert those ingredients into profits, the artists involved, who get paid either way, frequently have something genuine, sincere, and, if we’re lucky, downright clever to offer us.

A timely example would be the new film Michael Clayton, a collaboration of several production companies, distributed by Warner Brothers, starring a bona fide movie star in George Clooney, and written and directed by Tony Gilroy, who wrote all three “Jason Bourne” movies. With Clooney’s name on the marquee, you’ll have to forego the thrill of leaving the beaten path and “discovering” this movie. But that won’t make you a lemming. When all’s said and done, your open mind will thank you for this mainstream experience. Michael Clayton is two hours and ten bucks very well spent.

Clooney plays the title character, a corporate lawyer who, as his boss puts it, has found a “niche” for himself in his chosen profession. He’s the firm’s “fixer,” or clean-up man, brought in to minimize the damages when a client makes a mess, misbehaves, or gets in a jam. The position, and his talent for it, makes Michael simultaneously indispensable and incapable of advancing. It also has him burned out on reckless and despicable human behavior, and on his own role in enabling it.

As the film begins, Michael is assigned to clean up a costly mess by one of the firm’s own lawyers, who has gone off his medication and begun spewing Peter Finch-like truths about a multi-billion dollar class action suit involving a carcinogenic agricultural product. Michael has a history with his unbalanced colleague, but this time the legal challenges and moral implications have him, and his depleted enthusiasm, overmatched. Meanwhile, the client’s lead council, portrayed with scathing wretchedness by Tilda Swinton, begins her own damage control campaign, using a different kind of “fixer.”

There are grand themes of corporate malfeasance in this film, but as the title suggests, it is primarily a character study. Throughout the movie, as the screws tighten on Michael’s professional challenges, he is also continually juggling personal problems, including a gambling addiction, a failed business, an ominously compassionate loan shark, a deadbeat brother, and the responsibilities of single fatherhood. He’s doing it all with the dregs of his resources, and on one level this film is a portrait of spectacular stress management. Meanwhile, it all ties together beautifully from a storytelling standpoint. Michael at first comes across as a man besieged by his own weaknesses. As events unfold, however, he is revealed to be more committed to self-improvement than his circumstances would suggest. In fact, he is quickly becoming a person who cannot take one more step in the wrong direction.

Working from an ingenious screenplay, Clooney handles the role marvelously. Michael’s weariness and disgust are palpable, and beneath that, on a subtler level, he is also running out of faith that he can live up to his own reputation. Meanwhile, he comes suddenly, forcefully alive whenever conditions allow him to do the right thing, for instance when he stops the action for an insightful heart-to-heart with his young son. There are other terrific actors in supporting roles, but this movie rests squarely on Clooney’s shoulders, and he delivers a fascinating hero to the screen.

Folks, there is plenty to be cynical about in this corporate-owned world of ours. But the human spirit still runs amok out there, and even, at times, inside the walls of those very corporations. Michael Clayton, the movie, not only depicts this hopeful truth, but, in a sense, demonstrates it. For our part, we can welcome this spirit by keeping our minds open to art where we find it, regardless of the source and its likelihood to inspire us. We punish ourselves when we throw the baby out with the bathwater. And folks, believe me, this baby’s a keeper.

Copyright © 2007 Theo Michelfeld