In the Valley of Elah (2007)
Jul 14, 2016 1:31:54 GMT -5
Albert Fish Taco and Roy Batty's Pet Dove like this
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Jul 14, 2016 1:31:54 GMT -5
In the Valley of Elah
Dir. Paul Haggis
Premiered September 14, 2007
In October 2007, Claude Brodesser-Arkner, host of the NPR show The Business, posited a question: why aren’t there any big movies about the ongoing War in Iraq when so many great films had been made about the Vietnam War?
People wouldn’t shut up about the Vietnam thing. I’ve heard arguments that Iraq in many ways was a worse war, if less bloody (at least Vietnam had women and alcohol, and fit into the context of the Cold War; it wasn’t undertaken purely to satiate the midlife crises of a bunch of cowardly old draft-dodgers). The war had reached a low-point by late 2006; rumors of a draft were rampant, and military recruiters desperately got 16-year-olds to sign contracts promising to enlist upon graduation from high school.* And of course, people of an egotistical bent were eager to use the comparison to place themselves in the canon of history, which is what got us into the war in the first place.
The obvious problem, of course, was that all the great Vietnam movies came out after the war. Like, years after. The Deer Hunter came only five years after the US withdrawal from Vietnam, and would certainly have tanked had producer Allan Carr not figured out how to use awards buzz as a promotional tool (creating the formula for Oscar Bait). That War had to become nostalgic before it could be truly mined for pop cultural poignance. Unless you’re making a propaganda film, it’s too easy to get caught up in the moment and make something heavy-handed and instantly dated.
In the Valley of Elah, director Paul Haggis’ follow-up to Crash, was viewed by many at the time as a much-needed commentary on the war, as well as a shot at redemption for Haggis himself. It isn’t.
In 2004, Hank Deerfield (Tommy Lee Jones) is informed that his only living son Mike has gone AWOL from base shortly after completing his tour of duty in Iraq. When Hank arrives at the base in New Mexico to look for him, his body is found in the desert: stabbed, dismembered, and burned. Although this kind of killing is a common method for the drug cartels just over the border, Hank refuses to believe that his son was involved in such a thing. A former military policeman with a keen eye– keener than his successors–, he teams up with a local police detective (Charlize Theron) to uncover the truth.
In the Valley of Elah is a straightforward mystery story, one that admittedly touches on the epidemic of post-traumatic stress disorder among Iraq veterans– praised by critics for being the first to do so– and was actually loosely based on a true story. But, as ever, it is obvious where truth ends and Hollywood contrivance begins. Haggis, as director and writer, is compelled to cram the film’s periphery with as many Very Important Issues as he can think of. Detective Saunders (Theron) struggles as a single mother and isn’t taken seriously by her male colleagues. The neighboring Drug War in Mexico and abuse of POWs are both touched upon, but to no purpose. Another time, Hank explodes with contempt for Mexicans, an outburst that comes out of nowhere and immediately disappears.
In the Valley of Elah is heavy with symbolism, but with nothing much to symbolize. The film’s title refers to the location of the Biblical fight between David and Goliath, a story that is referenced twice in the film, but doesn’t relate to the story in any way.** Likewise, the upside-down flag, denoting a national emergency, appears but has nothing to do with the movie except to seem important (as well as to give Hank a Serious Acting Moment that is embarrassingly out of character). To give you an idea of what kind of movie this is, the final shots are overlaid by a tie-in song from Melissa Etheridge.
Altogether, In the Valley of Elah, generally well-received in its own time, has aged terribly, attempting to say too much with too little, and serves as a perfect example of why, with war movies, it’s better to wait.
Signs This Was Made in 2007
Although based on a true story, In the Valley of Elah is distant enough from its source material that there’s no reason to set it in 2004, except that it gives Haggis a way to mythologize even the very-recent past. Every scene with a television or radio plays echoes of speeches by George W. Bush in the background. In reality, even during election season, the Iraq War was barely an issue, and would continue to fade into the background until it reached its nadir in 2006.
Another, more meta sign it was made in 2007 is that it was shot in New Mexico, and features three actors (Jones, Josh Brolin, and Barry Corbin) that were simultaneously working on another, much better movie filming just over the border in Texas. But we’ll get to that one later.
Additional Notes
Dir. Paul Haggis
Premiered September 14, 2007
In October 2007, Claude Brodesser-Arkner, host of the NPR show The Business, posited a question: why aren’t there any big movies about the ongoing War in Iraq when so many great films had been made about the Vietnam War?
People wouldn’t shut up about the Vietnam thing. I’ve heard arguments that Iraq in many ways was a worse war, if less bloody (at least Vietnam had women and alcohol, and fit into the context of the Cold War; it wasn’t undertaken purely to satiate the midlife crises of a bunch of cowardly old draft-dodgers). The war had reached a low-point by late 2006; rumors of a draft were rampant, and military recruiters desperately got 16-year-olds to sign contracts promising to enlist upon graduation from high school.* And of course, people of an egotistical bent were eager to use the comparison to place themselves in the canon of history, which is what got us into the war in the first place.
The obvious problem, of course, was that all the great Vietnam movies came out after the war. Like, years after. The Deer Hunter came only five years after the US withdrawal from Vietnam, and would certainly have tanked had producer Allan Carr not figured out how to use awards buzz as a promotional tool (creating the formula for Oscar Bait). That War had to become nostalgic before it could be truly mined for pop cultural poignance. Unless you’re making a propaganda film, it’s too easy to get caught up in the moment and make something heavy-handed and instantly dated.
In the Valley of Elah, director Paul Haggis’ follow-up to Crash, was viewed by many at the time as a much-needed commentary on the war, as well as a shot at redemption for Haggis himself. It isn’t.
In 2004, Hank Deerfield (Tommy Lee Jones) is informed that his only living son Mike has gone AWOL from base shortly after completing his tour of duty in Iraq. When Hank arrives at the base in New Mexico to look for him, his body is found in the desert: stabbed, dismembered, and burned. Although this kind of killing is a common method for the drug cartels just over the border, Hank refuses to believe that his son was involved in such a thing. A former military policeman with a keen eye– keener than his successors–, he teams up with a local police detective (Charlize Theron) to uncover the truth.
In the Valley of Elah is a straightforward mystery story, one that admittedly touches on the epidemic of post-traumatic stress disorder among Iraq veterans– praised by critics for being the first to do so– and was actually loosely based on a true story. But, as ever, it is obvious where truth ends and Hollywood contrivance begins. Haggis, as director and writer, is compelled to cram the film’s periphery with as many Very Important Issues as he can think of. Detective Saunders (Theron) struggles as a single mother and isn’t taken seriously by her male colleagues. The neighboring Drug War in Mexico and abuse of POWs are both touched upon, but to no purpose. Another time, Hank explodes with contempt for Mexicans, an outburst that comes out of nowhere and immediately disappears.
In the Valley of Elah is heavy with symbolism, but with nothing much to symbolize. The film’s title refers to the location of the Biblical fight between David and Goliath, a story that is referenced twice in the film, but doesn’t relate to the story in any way.** Likewise, the upside-down flag, denoting a national emergency, appears but has nothing to do with the movie except to seem important (as well as to give Hank a Serious Acting Moment that is embarrassingly out of character). To give you an idea of what kind of movie this is, the final shots are overlaid by a tie-in song from Melissa Etheridge.
Altogether, In the Valley of Elah, generally well-received in its own time, has aged terribly, attempting to say too much with too little, and serves as a perfect example of why, with war movies, it’s better to wait.
Signs This Was Made in 2007
Although based on a true story, In the Valley of Elah is distant enough from its source material that there’s no reason to set it in 2004, except that it gives Haggis a way to mythologize even the very-recent past. Every scene with a television or radio plays echoes of speeches by George W. Bush in the background. In reality, even during election season, the Iraq War was barely an issue, and would continue to fade into the background until it reached its nadir in 2006.
Another, more meta sign it was made in 2007 is that it was shot in New Mexico, and features three actors (Jones, Josh Brolin, and Barry Corbin) that were simultaneously working on another, much better movie filming just over the border in Texas. But we’ll get to that one later.
Additional Notes
- *Incidentally, Marine recruiters were a near-constant presence in my junior year of high school; among those who entertained the notion I was deemed the only person remotely physically fit for service, and I had asthma. There was, however, a general consensus that of all the military branches, you’d have to be insane to join the Marines.
- **Haggis’ own explanation for the title is that he saw America’s armed forces as David going up against Goliath in Iraq. This, as critic Kenneth Turan pointed out at the time, doesn’t make any sense. I think he went with it because it just sounded Very Important.
Next Time: King of California