Friday Movies: In The Valley of Elah

Going to the movies within days of discharge from the hospital – a good idea? Because I was determined, for safety’s sake, not to leave the neighborhood, there were only two possibilities, but one of them, Eastern Promises, just looked too uncongenial for a convalescent, chipper though I’ve been. In the Valley of Elah didn’t start until one, which would ordinarily be a mark against it, but my time is a little more flexible now that I’m forbidden to do 90% of the things that make this apartment bearable. In the event, Elah was showing at two, and the theatre that lies in the other direction. I spent the intervening hour cleaning the desk in the bedroom, which was dustier than the most neglected corner.

I’d promised to call Kathleen when I got to the theatre at one. Instead, I called when I got back to the apartment, promising when I got to the theatre at two. This I forgot to do. I called the moment I was back out in the street, but the damage had been done. “I finally gave up being sick about your lying in the street, thinking that somebody must have called.” Ouch. I really deserved that.

The movie that I did see was, I think, just about the perfect film for me today. I’ve been a fan of Tommie Lee Jones since The Eyes of Laura Mars. He was more promising than great in that extravagant portrait of New York City’s Titanic period, but he has borne forth more and more of his promise with every film that he has added to his list. In the Valley of Elah puts him, without a doubt, in the company of Newman and Redford – men who can convey all the sorrow and disappointment of American life without opening their mouths.

¶ In The Valley of Elah.