Caught in the grip of Iraq war

The image of an upside-down American flag provides the divisive center of writer-director Paul Haggis' latest provocation, "In the Valley of Elah." For some audiences, it will be proof that the co-creator of "Crash," "Million Dollar Baby" and "Letters From Iwo Jima" has finally gone too far. In other words, his agenda is showing. For others, it will be seen as an overdue look into the American heart of darkness.

Specifically, it's about the American presence in Iraq — and the demons that follow home those soldiers who fought there and now suffer from post traumatic stress disorder. If you believe the atrocities at Abu Ghraib or My Lai were caused by only a few bad apples, you may be offended. Haggis is interested in expressing a more tragic view of human nature and history.

The fact-based screenplay takes its title from the biblical story of David and Goliath, which a sternly military father, Hank Deerfield (Tommy Lee Jones), tells to the young son of a New Mexico police detective, Emily Sanders (Charlize Theron). Emily is investigating the disappearance of Hank's son, Mike (Jonathan Tucker), who has returned from Iraq and appears to be AWOL.

When Mike's mutilated body is discovered, Hank and Emily team up to track down the killer. At first he's suspicious of her; cautiously they realize they can trust each other. Other characters, including Hank's fed-up wife (Susan Sarandon), a sardonic bartender (Frances Fisher) and an obstructionist lieutenant (Jason Patric), are less forcefully developed.

The movie depends on Theron and Jones to carry it through a series of police-procedural episodes. Both actors are excellent, and, though they're given opportunities to overplay their scenes, they're never guilty of grandstanding.

Whether Emily is being forced by overwork to make a fatal compromise, or she's challenging her fellow police officers with charges of incompetence, Theron brings a bright passion to her role. Jones begins on a weary note that gradually, almost invisibly, turns into disgust and outrage.

Haggis has sometimes been accused of relying on dramatic contrivances, and there are moments in "Elah" when his storytelling instincts seem questionable. Do we really need the sporadic, almost indecipherable cellphone footage of Iraq under siege? It adds little more than carnage and confusion, all but forcing Hank to step out of character and provide an explanation.

The intention seems similar to Francis Ford Coppola's "Apocalypse Now," which also set out to draw us into the mind of a disoriented soldier, but Coppola craftily seduced us into sensing that soldier's gradual submission to anarchy. Haggis' movie sputters on that score. Yet, thanks largely to the intricate, committed performances of Jones and Theron, it succeeds as an effective whodunit.

John Hartl: johnhartl@yahoo.com