"What the . . . no casinos, no art heists. This isn't Ocean's 14."

The firm, of course, has other plans for him, and here the movie finds its moral crisis. Michael is tasked with fixing the damage done by one of the firm’s partners, Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson). Arthur has gone off his meds and had a crisis of conscience (in that order? maybe) and has had a stunning meltdown while deposing a witness against his giant chemical company client. Now he’s a loose cannon with damning evidence against the client and Michael, while dealing with his own existential trauma, is supposed to keep a lid on Arthur’s.

Writer/director Tony Gilroy has crafted a sleek thriller of conscience, a movie with the trappings of intrigue and a moral dilemma at its heart. With the addition of Tilda Swinton as a chemical company executive who does the dirty work that her corporate mentor/father figure expects of her then excuses herself to the ladies room to vomit up her self loathing, he’s created a trinity of corruption and redemption, characters who represent the struggle between what is right, what is legal and what is profitable.

"Damn, I forgot the bread."

Actually, Swinton’s character bothered me for a long time. In several scenes we see her obsessively and nervously practicing a speech or meticulously laying out her clothes for a big meeting. I wonder, would Gilroy have paid so much attention to the insecurities — and clothing — of a male executive? Could he even fathom a male exec with such insecurities? But I suppose it’s no good pretending she’s not a woman who has clawed her way up through the ranks in a male-dominated corporate jungle, or ignoring what the journey may have cost in terms of her own identity.

Clooney gives the performance of his career as the world-weary fixer. Smart, tough and competent, with anger, desperation and contempt seething just below the surface, Clayton feels like a real guy with a lived-in life and more problems than we probably even see. Michael Clayton is worth seeing for that as well as for its deft portrayal of moral compromise and those who transcend or succumb to it. 

Gorilla Pants rating: 3.5 out of 4 bananas