Overly theatrical beyond a ‘Doubt’

Alonso Duralde Film critic

I never saw John Patrick Shanley’s “Doubt” performed onstage, but Shanley’s film version certainly doesn’t shy away from theatricality. Light bulbs explode, telephones ring insistently during tense arguments, literal and metaphorical winds whip up — heck, an actual cat chases an actual mouse, just to make sure the audience knows what’s going on.

The cat here is Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), the kind of no-nonsense nun who figures in an entire generation’s parochial school nightmares. She’s a school principal who confiscates cough drops as candy, thinks “Frosty the Snowman” should be banned from the airwaves as a heretical celebration of the occult and is convinced that ballpoint pens will be the ruin of civilization.

Naturally, this brings her into conflict with her superior, parish priest Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who brings the aforementioned wind into Sister Aloysius’ well-ordered life. It’s 1964, Vatican II is brewing and the new priest in town thinks that priests and nuns might actually show love and compassion rather than instill fear into their young charges.

Quick facts Starring: Meryl Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Viola Davis Director: John Patrick Shanley Run time: 1 hour, 40 minutes MPAA rating: PG-13

Sister Aloysius has been progressive enough to integrate the school, albeit with a single African-American student, Donald Miller (Joseph Foster II). Donald’s teacher, Sister James (Amy Adams), observes some odd behavior from Donald and fears that the young boy’s only friend, Father Flynn, may be guilty of improprieties.

That’s all Sister Aloysius has to hear before going on the warpath, and while she claims it’s the welfare of the children that most concerns her, it’s clear that it’s the change that Father Flynn represents that upsets her most. Failing to get anywhere with Donald’s mother, played by Viola Davis, Sister Aloysius goes after him herself, even though the Catholic Church gives men in its service power over women and — until recently — was always willing to look the other way regarding molestation scandals.

On one level, “Doubt” is a juicy “is he guilty or is she crazy?” melodrama of the “Death and the Maiden” school, and it’s admittedly entertaining to watch Streep play such a tough, cranky character. But if “Mamma Mia!” and “The Producers” taught us anything, it’s that stage people shouldn’t get too involved with the movie version, because the performances wind up playing to the mezzanine rather than to the camera lens.

But even if Streep and Hoffman aim for the cheap seats every so often, Adams and especially Davis deliver unsentimental, life-size-and-no-larger performances. Shanley’s best writing here is in the creation of Donald’s mother — whose reaction to Sister Aloysius’ suspicions provide “Doubt” with its most provocative yet truthful moments — and Davis does the role exquisite justice.

Had Shanley — whose only previous directorial effort was the odd cult comedy “Joe Versus the Volcano” — had entrusted his play to surer hands, “Doubt” might have been the dramatic powerhouse the playwright obviously wanted it to be. But he certainly got close, and that counts for something.

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