John Patrick Shanley’s “Doubt” Based on Tony Award Winning Play

 

by Sam Juliano

Controversy has raged for decades over whether film directors should maintain the essence of the plays that are being adapted for the screen, or whether they should open up such works for the sake of cinematic purity.  There has never been an easy answer to this dilemma, and it seems to matter little, whether the said helmer chooses the first or the second option.  In other words you’re damned if you do or damned if you don’t.  Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night and Robert Anderson’s I Never Sang For My Father are two works that spring to mind, but the equation can be applied to many others, including Williams’ Streetcar and The Glass Managerie, and some Shakespeare adaptations.  If a director is bold, he aften loses grip with the material and compromises its power.  If he chooses to keep the work fully intact he is criticized for being unimaginative.     

John Patrick Shanley’s critically-praised Broadway play, Doubt has fallen victim to the same kind of second-guessing, and again the conflict has been resurrected.  Shanley’s stage play was minimalist; the new film based on it (both written and directed by Shanley) doesn’t really open anything up outside of some seasonal transitional shots which are strictly the territory of film.  But the decision is a wise one, as the drama here would lose its edge if the focus shifted to style.  “Staginess” isn’t quite the same kind of criticism as it was years ago , as the contemporary thinking supports the notion that to gain one thing is too lose another.  The price is too steep.  The director takes a pass on expanding the parameters of the original script and chooses not to use fancy camerawork.     

Although the play (which won the Tony Award) opened about two years after the sex-abuse scandals among priests rocked the Catholic Church, the events of this story are set in 1964 at a private school in the Bronx, where middle-schoolers are constantly living in trepidation of the school’s authoritative principal, Sister Aloysius Beauvier.  The school’s parish at that point had recently welcomed a young man (Father Flynn) to provide the adolescent nurturing that would be missing in an impervious administrative regime, as well as to inject some liberalism into the school’s rigid an dogmatic curiculum.     

A young prelate nun named Sister Marie James grows suspicious when Flynn appears to show some interest in a young African-American boy named Donald (who happens to be first ever at the school) and she reports to Sister Beauvier.  Beauvier, without a strand of evidence or even the likelihood of impropriety in hand, moves forward with only her own air of moral pompousness, and accuses Flynn of doing thinks unbecoming and inappropriate for a priest. (or any person for that matter)  She leads a battle of wills to have him removed, and attempts to force him into making a confession.    

The entire film (and play) is one-note, and the material doesn’t often veer from the matter at hand, except to shed some light on the racism that was very much in full flower in that year.  i.e. the boy’s mother demurely backs off to the sister after she is “informed” that her son may been the victim of Flynn’s sexual advances.  The woman clearly is ashamed and is aware of the issue of inequality.      

Whether this singular concern should be rightfully the sole topic of this 104 minute film is still debatable, but the film misses it chance to make some kind of a statement about the sex scandals that scarred the church, had Shanley had not enshrouded his script in secrecy and mystery.  But adherents of the film would argue subplots would draw attention away from the conflict that is undeniably engrossing.  Doubt is deliberately ambiguous, and as the title blatently confirms, whatever decision is made, or however anything is resolved, there will always be doubt.      

As sister Beauvier, Meryl Streep is excellent.  Those who saw her early-year musical turn in Mamma Mia! are no doubt amazed at her extreme versatility, but the role here is very much her element, even if her accent is extreme.  She non-chalantly flails her arms and open her eyes wide in a role that almost seems like self-parody, yet she is grounded by the fearful urgency of the vital moment at hand, her clipped tones are oddly hypnotizing.  She is mesmerizing and pretty much steals all the scenes she appears in, even if Viola Davis is equally riveting in their one big scene together on the school campus.     

As a foil to the film’s heavy, Phillip Seymour Hoffmann adds another memorable performance to his storied career as the likable pastor who for a good part of the film has won the affection of the audience and up to a certain point seems irrefutably innocent.  Hoffmann’s homespun earthiness and gravely voice help to enhance our image of the working man’s Irish priest whose concern for his parishioners is of paramount importance, as can readily be deduced by his lengthy sermons.

Viola Davis gives an electrifying performance as the mother afraid to rock the boat in the aforementioned big scene that gives the film an unexpected jolt.  Davis is pretty much a perfect fit here.  Amy Adams shows yet another dimension as the cowering young nun, who passes on opinions, without ever coming to one on her own.  From her roles in Disney films, Adams here is more solemn and suspicious, and she shows another acting side we have not yet had the pleasure of seeing.     

It all pretty much adds up to a feast of acting by  some excellent performers, who push everything and everyone out of the way to enact their own fireworks display.  With acting like this, it’s easy not to be suckered into any arguments about the effectiveness or ineffectiveness of stage-to-film incarnations.     Doubt may barely miss the year end’s top ten list, but it’s a powerful, formidable achievement within the annals of “filmed theatre.”     

Final Rating:  * * * *   of five.       

 Note:  I saw “Doubt” on Friday night, (one day before the arrival of Allan Fish) with Lucille and Broadway Bob at the Chelsea Cinemas.  We found a nearby parking space, and opted to pass on dinner out.