Movie review: Doubt

by John P. Meyer

Even though Father Brendan Flynn (the character played by Philip Seymour Hoffman) argues in his leadoff sermon that the presence of doubt is endemic to the human condition, there can be little doubt that Doubt is one of the best movies of the year.

John Patrick Shanley's writing/directing effort achieves this distinction by concentrating on character interaction as opposed to any sort of frenetic on-camera action. Which makes the fact that this 104-minute drama is relentlessly gripping even more surprising.

The film's watchability quotient is due to the intelligent and craftily-exposited script (developed from Shanley's own stage play) and to the talents of a powerhouse acting duo (Mr. Hoffman and Meryl Streep) working at the top of their form. Whether or not these children of Hollywood have sugar plum visions at Christmas, a visit from the ghost of golden statuettes to come is a near certainty.

Sister Aloysius (Ms. Streep) is the Dirty Harry of St. Nicholas Catholic School, keeping both her resident nuns and their neighborhood student charges on a short and tightly-held rein. She is the sort of nun to whom Catholic school graduates refer when they wax poetic on the subject of discipline (ref. whacks delivered with rulers). As School Principal, she thinks it's her job to ensure that kids toe the line, and whether they do it out of respect for authority (God's; hers) or fear of corporal punishment matters not to the good sister.

Enter the new parish priest, Father Flynn, whose management style (from the pulpit; as coach of the basketball team) is less authoritarian and far more accepting; he seems better equipped to chum up with students than to engender fear in them. As a result of his openness - and his charismatic preaching style - Flynn becomes an immediate hit with both students and parishoners.

Not surprisingly, Flynn's willingness to see things in subtle shades of gray rather than harshly-delineated black and white incurs the wrath of the dogmatic Aloysius. When he sermonizes that "we are bound together by a common feeling of hopelessness," you just know that the holy shit is getting ready to hit the holy fan.

Which it does, when naive and sweet-natured Sister James (Amy Adams) makes note of an unusual incident involving Flynn and a young black student named Donald Miller (Joseph Foster). Is the priest having his way with the impressionable youth? Putting Sister James' report together with her own observations as to how much attention Flynn devotes to the boy in the guise of mentorship, Aloysius is convinced that there's brimstone behind this smokescreen.

In retrospect, Sister James finds herself believing Father Flynn's innocent explanation for what she witnessed. She takes to heart his powerful sermon on the pervasive evils of gossip. (Flynn's sermons tend to follow from his daily experiences; he keeps a notebook handy to jot down thoughts.) But Aloysius has locked onto the issue, and like God's own snapping turtle she refuses to release her hold - even after visiting with Donald Miller's mother (Viola Davis), who encourages the sister to let the matter drop. (Something else Mrs. Miller tells Aloysius further convinces her that the priest must be guilty.)

As outside observers, we may experience distaste for the stern authoritarianism represented by Sister Aloysius and harbor a quite natural sympathy for the kind-hearted goodwill demonstrated by Father Flynn - but we can't be sure that he isn't guilty of the heinous act of which he is suspected. There are indications that cause us to scratch our figurative heads and speculate. The beauty of the script is that we simply can't know for sure one way or the other.

Ms. Streep's intensity fascinates in the manner of a highway pileup, as she sneers out from under her bonnet-like headpiece and spews dogma with a distinctly un-nun-like Bronx accent. Furthermore, her character has more facets than we originally suspect: she is fiercely loyal to an elderly Sister whose incipient blindness may threaten her continued service in the school, going so far as to conceal the condition against the dictates of her office. And even though her bark is legendary, when it comes to those under her authority (such as Sister James) she proves surprisingly open to consultation.

Flynn's mild-mannered character, too, can exhibit bark, as he demonstrates in the film's climactic confrontation. Flynn and Sister Aloysius are alone in her office, tackling the abuse accusation head-on, and no verbal holds are being barred on either side. This is the sequence they should excerpt for the Academy Awards nomination teaser.

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