The film’s realism and refusal on any level to show reserve serve to highlight the timeliness and proximity of the more unsettling aspects of the story.

In the latest stab at cinematic commentary on the Iraq War, “In the Valley of Elah” (2007) asks the viewer to take a closer look at the rhyme and reason behind American soldiers’ conduct, both at home and abroad.

Written and directed by Paul Haggis, also responsible for the Academy Award-winning, albeit highly debated “Crash” (2004), “In the Valley of Elah” is decidedly less hopeful than Haggis’ former film both in message and craft.

Tommy Lee Jones plays retired military police Detective Hank Deerfield, whose name is the first of many blatant Americanisms. These Americanisms are perhaps best summed up in an early scene in which Deerfield stops by a high school to teach an immigrant janitor how to properly raise the flag. Upon receiving word his youngest son has gone AWOL on leave from duty in Iraq, Deerfield naturally leaves his curiously docile wife (Susan Sarandon) to man the homestead while he investigates.

As the increasingly mysterious circumstances of his son's disappearance are revealed, Deerfield finds an ally against the tight-lipped military police in local Detective Emily Sanders (Charlize Theron). Of course, Sanders takes an uncharacteristic interest in Deerfield’s plight and together they begin the arduous task of digging for answers amidst an avalanche of Army misdirection and noncompliance.

At first everything about the film appears painfully one-dimensional. The characters appear

uncomfortably predictable.

Jones in particular has some cringe-inducing lines of patriotism. The setting is familiar and bland, and the plot is perhaps best summed up in the rather unconcerned Army and police response that these things simply “happen all the time.”

Thankfully, these suppositions diminish, at least in part, as the script becomes more streamlined and surprisingly graphic.

As the film progresses, the initial character archetypes are transcended by powerful performances from the leads. Tommy Lee Jones turns a sadly regimented ex-military caricature into a staggeringly complex father with critical character flaws. The performance appears as a fitting personal response to a career full of typical “tough guy” roles.

Surprisingly, Theron is believable as a disenfranchised female detective and single mother amidst a sea of testosterone. Even Susan Sarandon gives a heart-breaking radar blip performance reminiscent of Allison Janney’s portrayal of a complacent military wife in “American Beauty” (1999).

As the plot begins to delve into much darker territory, the very conventional backdrop takes on greater significance. Many of the scenes have the details of a personally remembered tragedy: the hum of florescent lights in an office, the cold dark silhouette of an Army messenger saluting in a doorway, or even the incessantly loud breathing of the bereaved. The film’s realism and lack of reserve serve to highlight the timeliness and proximity of the more unsettling aspects of the story.

The fundamental flaw of the film lies in its final act. While factually and thematically everything comes together, the viewer is still left high and dry where an overall message is concerned.

Haggis offers little in the way of existential explanation, which makes for an entertaining, albeit hollow experience. Its extremely long-winded approach appears to build to a final knock-out punch that simply isn’t there. Any political commentary is sparse and ignorantly heavy-handed.

Despite its many problems, the film does succeed on some level in leaving the viewer with a disturbingly apathetic notion that maybe these things do just “happen all the time.”

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