Beneath the innocuous moniker, “Michael Clayton” is actually a very different, interesting breed of thriller that people are either going to love, or just think it OK. (Really, it’s hard to hate any movie with George Clooney as the lead, save for “Solaris.”)

The expected ‘this’ or ‘that’ reaction is due in large part to the film’s unique DNA, created by seasoned writer-turned-director Tony Gilroy of such audience-pleasers as the “Bourne” series. His first foray into yelling “action” and “cut,” Gilroy masterfully steps away from the visual suspense of his other projects, and directs a thick, cerebral character piece that has unexpected depth.

Upon initial reflection “Michael Clayton,” with its pedigree cast, seems like a shiny Porsche 911 that never makes it out of second gear – high-rev cruising, for sure, but never the moment when the film breaks away showing the true “oomph” you expect and want from such starry players. This anticipation is, really, a function of conventional expectation; of course you expect Clooney to kick-ass with his intellect, wit and fervor. He does, but in a more understated way. This de-emphasis on the superficial and flashy in favor of the more subtle and minute is in large part of what gives “Michael Clayton” such a wonderfully complex aftertaste.

Clooney plays Michael Clayton, a corporate fixer whose professional aptitude sits somewhere between a lawyer and cop, firmly planted in outward underhandedness. This median is quite the fertile niche for Clayton, who is a long-time employee of a big, expensive law firm, reporting directly to the co-founder, Marty (Syndey Pollack). Clayton’s expertise is called into play when the firm’s star lawyer Arthur (Tom Wilkinson) goes way off the farm, stripping down during a deposition, risking millions of dollars in fees for the firm in a case involving U/North, a corporate behemoth that can be most likened to Con Agra Foods. Clayton is sent to rein Arthur in and, of course, “fix” the situation in whatever way needed. Wilkinson is terrifically frenetic, proclaiming, at one point, that he is “Shiva, the god of death.”

U/North’s chief attorney, Karen (Tilda Swinton), comes into the picture to help pick up the pieces of Arthur’s breakdown, and to make sure the case stays on track to settlement. Karen’s struggle to keep Arthur quiet by embracing criminality in an effort to save her career is delicately tragic, and superbly done. From Swinton’s recent roles as a devilish queen and an ass-kicking angel, it’s curious to watch the actress play such a meek, obsessive and uncertain character.

Similar, complex character renderings pervade the film, giving crisp color to Gilroy’s own unique storytelling and style. Next to other movies that might accompany the film on the same wall at Blockbuster, “Michael Clayton” is definitively a thriller of a different color.

Gilroy’s directorial debut interestingly lacks the traditional criminal hierarchy, one that the protagonist must work against, ultimately facing (and taking down) the most villainous character in then end, that who sits atop the evil org chart. “Michael Clayton” is much more horizontal than it is vertical, which is sure to make many a movie-goer feel uncertain about the film.

This flattening of the bad guy order creates a plot that is somewhat anti-climatic, simply because it lacks the orthodox, satisfying spectacle of watching the one, chief evildoer fall. No usual feeling of closure. No guarantee that evil is caput and will never return. This is not the formula audiences expect.

Nevertheless, Gilroy’s portrayal of the “dark side” is far more based in reality than much of today’s fiction, producing a much more thought-provoking experience. How wonderfully distressing it is to know that the criminal equation is not linear, or hierarchal, and that many individuals can be equally culpable in furthering something truly nefarious? Gilroy manifests this understanding through brilliant characters and a brilliant cast. This is what makes “Michael Clayton” a great story. Some will get. Some won’t.