Doubt

Doubt is one of those prestige films that the studios release in the fourth quarter in hopes of generating awards season buzz. Expect to hear this film mentioned a lot between now and Oscar night, particularly the bravura performances of Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman. This is an impeccably written and directed film, but it's brought off primarily by the actors. Writer/Director John Patrick Shanley adapted Doubt from his acclaimed one act play Doubt: A Parable, and like some of the parables in the Gospels it resists an obvious interpretation. Despite my disagreement with Roman Catholic doctrine and practice I respect the positive role the Church has played in the fabric of American life, thus I was relieved that this film wasn't another Hollywood polemic against the Catholic Church or religious faith in general.

Doubt is a respectful evocation of urban working-class Catholic America. A world that's gradually fading away, but can still be seen in places like Scranton, PA (my wife's hometown) which has a church on every corner and a Jesuit university downtown. The film portrays a time (1964) when everyone went to Mass, every home had a picture of the Pope and JFK on the wall, and the parish priest was the most important figure in the neighborhood (in this case the Bronx). Shanley drew on personal experience in writing the play and has said that the characters are inspired by figures from his own past. The opening of the film was shot on the street where Shanley grew up and some scenes were filmed in the school he attended. You can tell he knows his subject. I suspect that anyone who spent time in Catholic school will respond with recognition. "I had a nun just like that!"

If Doubt isn't an exercise in Catholic-bashing, what is it? The overarching message, it seems to me, is that religious certainty of any kind is undesirable and is to be avoided. This is a sentiment that will play well, especially since it's articulated by the character that most viewers will sympathize with. Doubt is part of being human, but this movie elevates it to the level of an epistemological principle. Still, it's a good film and should provoke lots of reflection on human nature, the nature of ecclesiastical authority and how easily it can be abused (and how hard it can be to ferret out that abuse), and the fine line between grace and license. Shanley's script makes only the slightest reference to the Bible, the gospel, or Roman Catholic dogma, but there's a lot to be read between the lines. The subject of vows does come up, and those interested in the inner-workings of the Church may find themselves wondering which of the two main protagonists kept their's. Was one justified in breaking them in order to keep a higher law?

Or you can set all that aside and simply bask in the presence of great movie-acting. Streep and Hoffman are superb (I would be remiss not to mention the fine supporting performance by Amy Adams too). Streep plays the iron-fisted ruler of St. Nicholas school, Sister Aloysius. It's a role that could easily have come off as an over the top caricature in the hands of a lesser actor. She gives a wonderfully controlled/out-of-control performance...if that makes sense. Hoffman continues to amaze. There's not a better male actor of his generation. He doesn't undergo the same transformation as in some previous roles (e.g., Truman Capote), but he totally inhabits this character of Father Flynn, the young reform-minded priest who may or may not be guilty. Three times we get to see and hear him giving a sermon before his rapt parishioners. When he slips into an Irish brogue to tell a story about a gossip and her father confessor it's magic time. Hoffman said in a recent New York Times Magazine feature that he was drawn to the role because "a good sermon is just like theater." He also said he doesn't know if the priest he plays "did it" and saw his character as someone who understood that "being a human on this earth is a complicated, messy thing." Yes it is.

Doubt is unobtrusively scored by Howard Shore, as well as featuring some gorgeous choral music. The setting that plays over the closing credits is worth staying in your seat for. Cinematographer Roger Deakins must have been granted a leave from working with the Coen brothers to shoot the fall and winter Bronx exteriors and the muted interiors. Camera flourishes are kept to a minimum, and when primary colors are used they stand out. The actors who make up the student body of St. Nicholas are finely drawn, including one unfortunate young man whose transistor radio and earpiece end him up in the principal's office. We're not told, but I bet he was listening to the '64 Series between the Yankees and Cardinals! Doubt has two scenes that gave me trouble. I found them too muddled even for the universe of the film. One is the final scene which climaxes in a surprising apotheosis. I give Shanley credit for not ending his parable with an easy resolution, still, this ending seemed a bit too contrived, as if doubt must become its own form of certainty.