There is an inclination in Hollywood toward anti-war films, as not only are these movies popular, they're also Academy-pleasing. Director Paul Haggis' "In the Valley of Elah" does not live up to this maxim. In a season that has spewed its fair share of highly anticipated but ultimately disappointing films, "In the Valley of Elah" is hopefully the last breath of a long, dark summer.
For being one of the industry's current golden boys, it is puzzling Haggis' result is not more cinematically appealing, especially with a company of Oscar winners — Tommy Lee Jones ("Men in Black II"), Susan Sarandon ("Elizabeth Town") and Charlize Theron ("North Country") serving as the cast. Haggis himself is no stranger to the occasional award having earned two Oscars for "Crash" in 2005, including the coveted Best Picture. And after co-writing the war epics "Flags of Our Fathers" and "Letters from Iwo Jima," he should be all too familiar with the topic.
"Elah" is a murder mystery rather than full-fledged war film, but the message is still loud and clear: The majority is frustrated with the situation in Iraq. The war has not received the attention it deserves on screen, and "In the Valley of Elah" is one of the first commercial responses to the issue. It is even based on actual events.
Upon receiving a phone call explaining that his son Mike (Jonathan Tucker, "Hostage") has gone missing, Hank Deerfield (Jones) quickly begins hunting for answers, and his previous work as a military police officer has apparently given him a knack for detective work. A visit to the army base allows Deerfield to get his hands on his son's cell phone, including the videos taken on his tour of duty.
It is through this steady string of mostly incoherent footage that we are able to see life — or lack thereof — in Iraq. Haggis chooses to interpret the war via Deerfield's laptop, a rather claustrophobic method of presenting the film's driving force. Early videos depict Mike as scared and ostracized from his unit. His father, a Vietnam veteran who still makes his bed and shines his shoes every morning, is the figure who most influenced his decision to enlist.
With the help of Jones' acting and the use of graphic imagery, the story leaps into poignancy once Mike's body is discovered. Hank is then forced to inform his wife (Sarandon), who has already lost one son to the casualties of war. Amid an inattentive police investigation and lack of military cooperation, Deerfield is left searching for answers with Detective Sanders, the not-so-femme fatale played by Theron. Jones is able to expand his performance once Theron can receive his brusque delivery. What follows are elements of a good mystery, but they only lead to a lethargic denouement. If nothing else, Jones' portrait of anger and loss in a world with nothing to gain is something to take away.
What "Elah" does accomplish is a warranted condemnation of the U.S. Army. The soldiers cannot help but fight a two-front war, bringing home drug habits, psychological trauma and rage. Haggis makes John Kerry-like commentary on the intelligence of the soldiers, who voice their opinions on the war only through short, expletive-ridden dialogue. The statement "You shouldn't send heroes to places like Iraq," made by a soldier — and drug trafficker — is the only exception, and it is the most audacious attack on the government's methods.
Yet the real mysteries in "Elah" are its contradictions. Mike's later footage shows him in good company with his unit, repeatedly torturing a wounded man; other videos show him distraught after having no choice but to endanger the life of a child. The director incorporates a spatially awkward style, but dealing with such a universal issue, it requires a grander scale or at least more consideration.
Haggis gets the title of the movie from the biblical location where David conquered Goliath. But he is uncertain when defining his terms. Equating the confrontation of monsters with the war in Iraq is a double standard. The United States cannot possibly be seen as the child attempting to slay the giant.
"In the Valley of Elah" points an accurate finger. Unfortunately, it proposes no steps toward redemption. Haggis goes as far as setting his story in November 2004 — a time he believes was the best opportunity to set a new course. The film is a distress signal, a cry for help, sent three years too late.
Warner Bros.
3 stars out of 5
