 |
 |
A definite change-up following his Oscar-winning directorial debut Crash, Paul Haggis' In The Valley of Elah lets go with both hands the trademarks of that auspicious debut.
Gone are the multiple storylines and precision plotting that brought them together, as well as the clear-eyed thematics -- all traded for a single story, a mood and a sleight-of-hand last act that may leave some viewers feeling cheated.
As public an opponent of the U.S. war in Iraq as Haggis is (he's had Noam Chomsky give talks at his house), it's understandable why he'd want to soften his punches beyond the point of subtlety. In The Valley of Elah is an anti-war film on a frequency you often have to strain to hear.
The saving grace is Tommy Lee Jones, whose stone-faced laconicism practically screams with suppressed emotion as Hank Deerfield, an ex-soldier and father who discovers that his son, Mike (Jonathan Tucker), has gone missing on the very weekend of his return from active duty in Iraq. (The plot is based on an real-life incident).
Immediately sensing bad news, Hank leaves behind his wife (Susan Sarandon) and heads to his son's military station to check things out first-hand. There, he finds a local police station where problems involving military personnel are routinely turned away on jurisdictional grounds, and makes the acquaintance of one such problem-shuffling desker, Emily Sanders (Charlize Theron, uglied-up unsuccessfully), a detective whose relationship with the chief (Josh Brolin) undermines her respect among her colleagues.
When Hank's son is found brutally murdered, Emily has an attack of guilt and undertakes to help Hank put together the pieces, jurisdiction be damned. Key to his investigation: A cellphone video diary of Mike's last days in Iraq that is digitally restored piecemeal and in the kind of chronological order a director needs to slowly reveal what some might characterize as a war crime.
|
The sleight of hand comes after two-thirds of what we've come to expect as standard murder mystery (complete with a "chase scene" that seems utterly tacked on), when Haggis goes off-book and allows plot-strings to hang deliberately. It's clearly meant to convey the meaninglessness of war, along with the tragic toll it takes on the men who fight.
As an approach, you can trace it back to Chinatown, which also seemed to be heading toward a payoff and ultimately refused to wrap itself neatly. The difference is that this is only Haggis' second movie, and he doesn't have the subtlety of a Roman Polanski. In his case, it merely seems as if he was following a template and then stopped.
For all its dead ends and flaws, In The Valley of Elah (the title refers to the Biblically significant location where David met Goliath) does feature arguably the best performance of Jones' career. And the anger that simmers in Haggis' direction is palpable, even minus a payoff.
(This film is rated 14-A)