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Screenshot from “In the Valley of Elah.”

Inevitably, critics will find themselves comparing writer-director Paul Haggis’ “In the Valley of Elah” to the first major feature he directed, “Crash,” which won the 2005 best picture Oscar. But “Crash,” despite the accolades it received, was full of poorly developed, two-dimensional characters who repeatedly delivered Haggis’ simplistic and self-important messages on race with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

“Elah” could easily have repeated the mistakes of “Crash.” Instead, Haggis may have learned a thing or two between his freshman and sophomore directing efforts. In the interim he scripted two more films for Clint Eastwood—“Flags of Our Fathers,” and “Letters from Iwo Jima,” following a similar collaboration on the 2004 Oscar best picture “Million Dollar Baby.” Haggis also wrote the surprisingly entertaining James Bond flick “Casino Royale.” This period undoubtedly contributed to the maturity that Haggis presents in “Elah.”

The film is the story of Hank Deerfield’s search for his son, who goes missing without so much as a phone call after returning from a tour of duty with the Army in Iraq. Deerfield is a Vietnam army vet who now earns a living by hauling gravel in a small town. He is played with calculated restraint by Tommy Lee Jones. Early in the film, the mutilated body of Deerfield’s son turns up, and he begins a fevered effort to find out what happened to the young soldier.

Assisting in this search is a detective named Emily Sanders, played with authority by Charlize Theron. Sanders has problems of her own; she is trying to raise a young son by herself and fit into a misogynistic police department that often assigns her cases nobody else wants. Throughout the film, the department more often hinders Sanders’ investigation than helps it.

Beyond the two stars, a number of other prominent actors have roles in the film, including Susan Sarandon as Deerfield’s wife and Jason Patric (“Sleepers”) and James Franco (the “Spider-Man” series) as soldiers in Deerfield’s son’s unit. Even so, this is not an ensemble film like “Crash.” Jones has a firm role as the main character in “Elah,” and his commanding presence shapes the film, even when he is not on screen.

Despite the near-constant presence of Deerfield, however, Haggis resists the urge, too often indulged in “Crash,” to have his protagonist lecture the audience. Instead, the film offers details that slowly flesh out the character. These include a scene when Deerfield pulls over from his long drive to Fort Rudd to right a flag that is accidentally hung upside down, a conversation with a topless waitress who may have been the last person to see his son alive, and a calculated chase of a suspect that is followed by an uncontrolled outburst of violence.

Through Deerfield’s search for the truth about his son’s death, the film raises questions about the nature of the Iraq war. “Elah” rarely tries to lead the audience into feeling a certain way. Instead, it does what a film on a complicated issue is supposed to do (and what “Crash” clearly didn’t): leave viewers to make up their own minds.

The most thought-provoking way the film does this is through a series of low-quality cell phone videos Deerfield salvages from his son’s belongings. They show the gritty reality his son experienced on the ground in Iraq, but there’s no omnipresent voice to explain their meaning. It’s refreshing in the wake of Haggis’ heavy-handed moralizing in “Crash” to have one of his films leave so much interpretation up to the viewer.

“In the Valley of Elah,” is, for the most part, a challenging and thoughtful film, with the unfortunate exception of its final portion. At what should be both a cathartic and tragic moment, Haggis is unable to restrain himself, and the score turns to Annie Lennox’s “Lost,” a song that is jarring in its sentimentality. Up to this point, the only music in the film had been source material and Mark Isham’s surprisingly contemplative score. The denouement also resorts to hackneyed symbolism that serves as a deviation from the film’s complex storytelling. By the end of “Elah,” Haggis is talking down to his audience. Here’s hoping that’s an instinct he can overcome completely in his future work.