I believe the structure of this movie is what made it hard for me to get into at first, mostly because its approach is not very typical. As I recall back to my first viewing a few years ago, there was a sense of... ok, alright already. WHAT is going on? This can be attributed to the juxtaposition of events and meandering goals, protagonist, antagonist, etc. The film opens with Arthur's monologue - great, by the way - but as much as it opens with a resounding, frenetic bang, there's no context to it. We're then in the office discussing this big case - but just as soon as we're there, we're thrust into Michael's world. This is pretty jarring because there's no apparent connection to the following events for quite some time and I recall feeling frustrated. We're in on Michael Gambling. We're watching Michael deal with a client. And then the car blows up. And we flash back to four days earlier. What Gilroy did was essentially use the 2nd act climax of what would have been a linear story, Michael's car blowing up, as something of a personal inciting incident. It catches our attention and we're left wondering how it fits into the rest of the events. But it's not the real incident that sets the overall story in motion. That would be Arthur's meltdown - and that doesn't come into play until about the 26 minute mark. Gilroy zoomed in on Michael as a main character first. We see his personal side and how he operates and we know THIS is the guy we're tuning into - and it's an important setup because as I noted yesterday, Michael isn't the protagonist. We do follow him though because he's the main character and provides perspective. What's the distinction and what does it have to do with the structure of the story? The protagonist is the character who has the responsibility for pursuing (or avoiding) the story's objective problem. The story goal is what all the characters are involved with - that being settling the lawsuit. Everybody (save the victims) are working toward this goal at the start of the story. The problem occurs when Arthur makes a scene and strips, threatening the entire settlement. It's at this point the functions become clearer: Karen as U/North's counsel, has the problem and Michael is sent in to "fix it". This is the point when Michael becomes actively involved with the story goal and even though he's given the task to "control" Arthur, he's merely doing it at his company's request who, in turn, is being driven by Karen. In short, he's just doing his job. Michael, of course, ultimately fails to do this and we're given the motivator from Karen's POV: the memo stating negligence. Facing a formidable obstacle in Arthur, Karen drives the story forward by making a key decision: calling in some "professional services". This is when the characters take on more familiar roles, Karen becoming "villainous" as her actions lead her down a dark path to get what she wants. As we reach the midpoint, Karen is now exploring "other options" that lead to Arthur's death. Prior to this, there's a huge "greyness" to the story - is Arthur simply off his meds, or is he telling the truth? Who's right and who's wrong? It all becomes clear at the moment Karen knows the truth and the roles, from there, become more defined in traditional terms. We know how the rest plays out, but getting back to the structure - I believe it was important for Gilroy to have us introduced to Michael's personal story for us to realize this is a story about him and to sort of say, trust me, this man's personal journey will intersect with that of the story goal. We just need to flesh out his details first so you can see why he does the things he does, why he is the way he is and why his car eventually blows up. For the story to have opened in a linear, "real time" fashion, we wouldn't be privy to all the personal information about Michael that's presented - at least not up front - and it would have interfered with the main story goal once that ball gets rolling. He gives us that anchor to latch onto because he's ultimately not the one driving the boat, so to speak. Events are happening around him and he's reacting to them, not forcing them - at least until his car blows up. And, considering he's a character that changes, it's important to "see" the story through him from both sides - as an employee trying to do his job vs. one who comes to realize Arthur wasn't off his meds. That change has him from realizing, just as Arthur did, he's an accomplice, to being a nemesis, ultimately stopping the settlement and exposing the truth. When we come back to the scene of Michael gambling, it now has context and we see how he ended up there, what it means, how he's at his lowest moment and how the bomb got into his car. All the pieces suddenly fit - the failures in his personal life vs. his professional life and the juxtaposition pays off, hurtling us towards the third act when Michael is finally forced to take action (and boy does he ever).

Major structure question arising: why having the 2nd-to-3rd act plot point as the inciting incident and then playing the story in flashback until we get to that moment again? I support TBBB on this one: the film is more about this man existential path than U/NORTH's eminent clash. The landscape, the horses, the improvise of his driving and the admiration/relief he feels are enigmatic in the first place (maybe even more in the film itself, although I think the words are beautifully translated into the screen). We know he is an important man (Arthur's monologue lets us know there's something upon MC), he as ideal characteristics (handsome; Mercedes) thus 1) we are intrigued by that simple reverence of nature; 2) why the explosion, what has this man done, who is he (Arthur's monologue plays along here, calling him lots of names)? So, right after that moment, I was much more interested in knowing how and why did he got there, plus who is MC, and I always knew it would be played in the context it did - the opening shots, some clues from the monologue, even those judging the Law Firm as a moral desert. This conveys another reason why (following the discussion oi the first post) I take MC as the protagonist, because my main focus of identification with the film is through him. Another thing that makes this work is the dramatic intensity increase the event takes from minute 15 to minute 110 (more or less). When the car explodes for the first time, it is an unexpected strange surprise. 15 seconds of shock. The second time, it is pure tension and suspense, 3 or 4 minutes of tickling heartbeats. It constitutes a huge emotional climax and a great hook into the final yards. Great editing on the page. The alternate actions between Verve/Iver vs Arthur vs Karen; or Verve/Iver vs Karen vs MC, 1) suffocating rhythm and dramatization; 3) creates a feeling of diagonal lines and contrivance, very subtly, working it out great as an action/thriller. The wire-tapping device itself is a great element on this.

Forgot to mention there's a great midpoint moment for Michael's character when he confronts Arthur. In their heated exchange, Michael says "I'm not the enemy", to which Arthur replies "Then who are you?". It's a great moment that echoes the question Karen poses earlier: "Who is Michael Clayton?" after learning he's not a partner and also portrayed once again when he's confronted by the cop who tells him he's got everyone thinking he's something he's not. That's what the story is really about: a man finding out who he is via comparisons and contrasting to others, and it's the events of the story that force him to consider this - particularly his relationship to Arthur.

Here was my attempt at a rude structure, using the old Blake Snyder boilerplate. Always dangerous to try and reduce a film to a formula, but can sometimes be helpful. I think the nicest thing about this film as a tale of corporate corruption is that the theme and Michael's subconscious goal/need/whatever you want to call it is simply getting out of the system, getting clean. Even when he plays out the sting on Karen he explains to her who he is - the guy you pay, not the guy you kill. So there's a hint of a character arc - from corruptible to moral - but it's not oversold and ultimately he's the same guy, it's just he managed to get out ,and do some good on the way. 1. Opening Image: Arthur's madness (audio); the midnight law firm buzz of activity. Something's up. 2. Theme Stated: Michael playing cards, going to the Westchester mansion, the horses, the car blowing up. GETTING OUT. GETTING CLEAN. 3. Set-up: 4 days earlier. Michael picking up Henry, Realm and Conquest. Michael at work, solving the problems. Karen prepping for her interview, U/North set up as big firm client. Michael's failed bar. $75k debt. 4. Catalyst: Word of Arthur's flash dance. 5. Debate: Michael and Arthur arguing in Minnesota, the deal (take the pills), Arthur challenging Michael ("is this what you wanted?") 6. Break into 2: (p 40!) Michael meets Karen - meeting the nemesis for the first time. 7. B Story: Anna and Arthur. The tape. Later, the phone call. 8. Fun and Games: Arthur runs. Karen shows the memo to Marty. Michael getting in trouble for losing Arthur. PINCH: Zabel tells Michael $12k is gonna look bad when he owes $75k. 9. Midpoint: Michael asks Marty for the money. 10. Bad Guys Close In: Michael finds Arthur but now knows he can't bring him to heel. Verne plays Karen Arthur's recitation of the memo with the U/North theme in BG. The options. Michael bad scene with Timmy, tells Henry he'll never be like him. 11. All Is Lost: Arthur murdered. U/North settlement is on. 12. Dark Night of the Soul: Michael gets busted at Arthur's (but finds the copy receipt that will lead to the Summons to Conquest documents). At the precinct. Gene: you got everybody fooled. But you know who you are. 13. Break into 3: Finds the Summons to Conquest payload. Takes it back to the office; but is blindsided by the cheque for $80k from Marty. Now he's REALLY bound to the firm. At Tim's Bar: Paying off Zabel. Going to play cards. 14. Finale: Back to Westchester, Verne and Iker and the car bomb. Michael surprising Karen at the U/North settlement meeting. The sting. Pays brother Gene back. 15. Final Image: Michael - free (cab in film; park in script).

You're right, TBBB, the non-linear structure throws the spotlight on Michael, and it also sets up a little expectation/mystery for the audience, making us wonder how he got in that predicament. I wonder, though, does the script "tip its hand" too early by showing the car bomb? By showing it, we kind of know he runs afoul of Karen and her thugs, which might lead us to believe he eventually "goes straight" and therefore needs to be eliminated. This kind of takes the edge off of the "will he or won't he" questions about what side of his nature he'll wind up favoring. Then again, we don't know for sure that he becomes a hero figure, but some might guess it. Part of me wonders if it might be better to keep the explosion, and his childlike wonder at the horses, for later, so it strikes us as the sea change it is. In the end, I trust Gilroy's instinct, though. For many spec writers, it's usually good advice, however, to shy away from the trendy practice of showing the character in a harrowing situation in the present, then tell the rest of the movie in flashback to show how he got there. It's tempting because it starts the movie with a bang and also sets up some mystery. I visit the Scriptshadow site frequently, and its host, the Script Jedi Carson Kenobi, says that device is becoming overused in scripts he's been reading lately and he advises people to lay off.

I've seen it used a lot in scripts/films, too and have done it myself. I do recall reading one of Carson's favorites, How It Ends, but not liking how it was used there. When done with purpose other than to provide some jolt to the reader, it can be a wonderful structuring device. In the script I used it in, I open with a crime scene - two bodies, one male, one female, neither identifiable. But there are elements like an untouched birthday cake and a pink butterfly barrette that provide markers later in the story and create suspense when we double back upon the events leading up to it. In short, the cake is like a device that alerts the reader that oh crap, something bad is going to happen soon. The barrette thus becomes a device to mislead/misdirect the reader of the identity. Anyway, you get the idea. A lot of amateur writers open that way to try and catch the reader's attention and nothing more which is unfortunate because there's possibilities to create conflict, tension and suspense throughout the script by having set up the reader's expectation. For Gilroy, it was important to open with Arthur's monologue because we had to sense he was delusional - we're not meant to identify with him. If we knew him to be coherent/sane up front, it would have shifted the entire paradigm and structure of the story and its meaning it imparts unto Michael (and us).

The only minor gripe I have with the plot of MC is: why does Karen tell Marty about the memo? It's not going to do her any good, and it's entirely inconsistent with her later state of being prepared to kill Arthur to stop him making it public, because if you were even going to entertain that possibility then the last thing you'd do is tell someone about this toxic document Arthur had -- it makes her/ U/North prime suspects, suicide cover-up notwithstanding. I know that progression could be evidence of her descent from everyday workaholic/corporate toady into desperate murderer, but it just doesn't quite gel for me. On the technical side, I can't see any reason why that document would be privileged and not discoverable in litigation -- it's a straight out scientific report, not legal advice or prepared with a view to litigation, and would be right in the target zone for evidence. Also she all-but-admits that they "accidentally" destroyed the original, which suggested they feared it would be the smoking gun in the litigation. By telling Marty about its existence and the fact that they destroyed the original, she'd also be putting him on the spot, because as a lawyer his duty to uphold the law comes before his duty to his client. Drama wise, it would make Michael's almost-but-not-quite reveal of the Summons to Conquest document to Marty in Act 3 all the more powerful if we knew Marty hadn't seen it before. Not crucial, of course, because as it happens, Gilroy cleverly derails that whole sub-plot by throwing in a subtle reversal: Marty gives Michael the $80 grand, and undercuts the power of the memo in Michael's hand by showing he has no moral qualms about the U/North case ("The case reeked from day one. Fifteen years in, I've got to tell you how we pay the rent?") But that's all a bit technical and nitpicky. I love the movie anyway.

For those of you into "Save the Cat," here is a breakdown of the plot per that paradigm.

For those of you into the sequence method, here is a breakdown of the plot per that paradigm.

Meh. I liked my version better. *turns up nose, walks out*

And another nice structural breakdown of the story here.

Okay, let me provide a quick macro take on the story's structure. While I am a huge Joseph Campbell acolyte, I get frustrated with the way The Hero's Journey gets used sometimes in screenwriting quarters, as if there is something sacrosanct about its supposed 'stages' [17 in Campbell's book "The Hero With a Thousand Faces," 12 as articulated by Vogler]. So oftentimes I find myself stepping out of that minutiae and focusing on the Big Three movements Campbell always talks about: Separation Initiation Return In Michael Clayton, the major Plotline points that serve as transitions from one movement to the other are provided by Arthur: The Separation from the Ordinary World into the Extraordinary World is when Arthur loses his shit and starts taking off his close at the deposition. This forces Michael to - literally - go on a journey to try to placate the company's legal clients. The transition from Initiation to Return happens when Arthur is assassinated, causing Michael to rethink his existence, eventually leading to his decision re Karen. Those Big Three movements, what we may call Three Act Structure, is fundamental stuff and critical to almost every single movie that comes down the pike.