Into the lonesome valley
After
the unexpected success of Crash, which dealt with racism
in America, Paul Haggis turns his sights squarely on another hot-button
issue with In the Valley of Elah. This time, the topic
is America’s ill-fated adventure in Iraq; and more particularly,
its effect on those called on to fight in that conflict.
Haggis is of course better known as a writer than
as a director, and it shines through in his script. There’s
a lot going on here, with layers building on layers as the story
unfolds. Haggis also demonstrates why he’s in such demand
as a writer, as he propels the film along and conveys meaning
with few words.
Tommy Lee Jones is Hank Deerfield, a retired military
policeman now living a quiet life in rural Tennessee. His son
Mike (Jonathan Tucker) has been on a tour of duty in Iraq. His
unit has returned home, but Mike is reported missing. Knowing
what that could mean for Mike’s career, Hank drives to his
base in New Mexico in an effort to find him, leaving his wife
Joan (Susan Sarandon) to wait by the phone. In New Mexico, Hank
soon runs into a series of dead-ends, as the military authorities
seem reluctant to become involved. He tries to find a sympathetic
ear with the civilian police, and thinks he may have found one
in the form of Det. Emily Sanders (Charlize Theron); but she too
doesn’t seem all that enthused. But the discovery of human
remains in a desolate field changes everything.
The title, which is explained in the movie, comes
from the Biblical story of David and Goliath; the valley of Elah
being the place where their decisive battle takes place. It’s
a rather frank metaphor for Hank’s battle with military
officialdom to find out what has happened to his son. That however
is about the only straightforward thing about the film, as Haggis
takes us on a reflective and compelling journey through the heart
of America’s current darkness.
The interplay between military and civilian authority
has been done before (think The Presidio for example),
and the military are predictably again the bad guys of the piece;
but here Haggis transcends the obvious to produce a film that’s
a complex interplay of politics, mystery and raw emotion. He uses
the structure of a murder-mystery to explore his themes, but this
is far more than a police procedural.
There’s an elegiac tone to the film that suits
not just the subject-matter, but also the array of deep passions
on display. That tone is not only reflected in the visual and
sonic landscape that Haggis has created; but also – and
perhaps most tellingly - in the craggy features and bleary eyes
of Hank as he searches for his answers.
Like the Coen brothers’ No Country for
Old Men, it’s set in the bleak southern border area
of the US. The coincidence doesn’t end there however, as
the stark beauty of the place is once more captured by Roger Deakins.
Unlike the Coens however, Haggis tends to concentrate more on
the decaying urban environment than on the countryside. The story
takes place mostly in run-down motels, squalid bars and greasy
diners than in the haunting landscape itself. Haggis seems to
be using these images as a way of reflecting a moral or perhaps
even spiritual decline in his characters.
The
film unfolds at what might be described as a leisurely pace. The
running time is close to 2 hours, but on reflection, it’s
had to pinpoint any scene that could be regarded as superfluous
or redundant. Despite taking a while to get going, once it does,
Haggis certainly ramps up the tension as the events unfold. It’s
also a film that makes demands on the audience, and not just because
it doesn’t allow its characters to explain everything for
you. Many scenes that might appear unimportant turn out to be
very important later in the film, so it requires that you pay
close attention from the outset.
Haggis clearly has considerable pull in Hollywood
these days, as the star-studded (with no less than three Oscar
winners) cast attests. Charlize Theron again undergoes a chameleon-like
transformation to play the dowdy Sanders. That she gets to play
both hard-nosed cop and doting mother only serves to highlight
her range. Susan Sarandon is achingly effective as the heart-broken
and world-weary Joan. Even if her involvement is limited to a
few scenes, those scenes are some of the most important in the
film.
In the Valley of Elah however belongs to
Tommy Lee Jones, justly rewarded with an Oscar nomination for
this performance. In his leathery face and melodious voice, the
pain of a father robbed of his child well up with an intensity
that’s palpable. While his performance here isn’t
all that different from his supporting turn in No Country for
Old Men, this carries far more gravitas and engagement with the
audience. This is just the kind of performance that should be
recognised with an Oscar nod.
There will be many films this year dealing with
the US involvement in Iraq. Few however are likely to deal with
that issue in such a sensitive and rewarding way as In the
Valley of Elah. It’s another fine film from Haggis,
whose stock seems to rise with each passing day. This is certainly
one film not to be missed.
David Edwards
