Film fans get another superb treat as the Oscar contenders engineer a relay race on the big screen in which, arguably, the Coen Brothers’ greatest film passes the baton to the best ever John Grisham adaptation. The twist here is that Michael Clayton, another worthy contender for this year’s Best Film, does not stem from Grisham’s manufacture of The Attorney as the Protagonist. It is the earnest creation of star screenwriter Tony Gilroy (the Jason Bourne trilogy, The Devil’s Advocate, Proof of Life) who chooses his script for his directorial debut. The result is nothing short of startling. Michael Clayton is as elegant and poignant a film as you’re likely to find in the sterile and calculated genre of the legal/business thriller. True, it does not offer anything new with its damnation of the profit-above-all philosophy of big evil corporations, but you will struggle to find another film that argues its case with more grace and conviction.

The title suggests reveals the film’s focus: Michael Clayton (George Clooney) is a fixer for a big law firm who cleans up the assorted messes of his company’s motley clients. He is slick, well-groomed and drives a big new Mercedes. He also radiates a trendy world-weariness and the expression of a man knowing the score. Yet the facade conceals problems. Early on in the film Michael stops in the middle of nowhere, strolls around a lawn and suddenly his car explodes in the distance. The Mercedes is leased, Michael is divorced and his relationship with his 10-year-old son is going nowhere. He has also invested everything in a failed restaurant business and urgently needs $75 000 to stave off disaster, money he doesn’t have because he’s a regular loser on high-stakes poker games. His problem, however, is that he is very highly rated at what he does, but he does not like it and wants out. His boss Marty Bach (Sydney Pollack) does not understand him, but will finance his immediate debt if he takes care of a particularly bad mess threatening a big merger.

This involves one of the law firm’s partners named Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson) who goes berserk during a deposition hearing and runs off naked in the snow. Arthur is leading the defence of a big agrochemicals company named U/North in a class action suit for billions. He is close to pulling off a settlement, but is also a manic depressive who has stopped taking his pills. He also knows that his client is guilty.

What he does or does not do is a question of survival for U/North. Their head legal counsel (Tilda Swinton) doubts that Clayton will deal with the issue and panics into making swift amends herself. Clayton also doubts that he will be able to deal with the problem or, indeed, whether he wants to as he begins to confront his actions’ ethical implications.

Gilroy’s narrative choices require some heavier lifting from the audiences, but the calculated confusion leads to the most elegant of payoffs. The bewilderment of an exploding car at the beginning evolves into a graceful framing device, which owes to Steven Soderbergh who produces the film along with heavyweight directors Sydney Pollack and Anthony Minghella. They assure that Gilroy works with the ultimate professionals: Robert Elswit’s immaculate cinematography and James Newton Howard’s understated score add to the impact of the story. The same is true for all the performances. Clooney gives a moving performance as a man who is gradually stripped of everything and whose last resort is a return to decency. Swinton is predictably brilliant as a woman in high places who wants to convince herself that she has got what it takes to be a bona fide corporate shark; Pollack is calculated authority personified, while Wilkinson excels in an exceedingly awkward and demanding part. It is easy to believe that the film’s punch would diminish greatly if this quartet did not participate but, fortunately, they are here to contribute to one of the year’s best films.