Customer Reviews

Doubt (movie tie-in edition)

5 star:		(30)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

There's something about Father Flynn (Brian O'Byrne) that doesn't sit right with Sister Aloysius (Cherry Jones). The year is 1964. The shadow of the Kennedy assassination hangs in the air like a thin fog, integration has begun to spread throughout the country, and, at a Catholic grammar school in the Bronx, the traditions Aloysius relies upon are slipping away. No person represents this progression of time and society more than Flynn. He personalizes his sermons, takes three sugars in his tea, and treats the students with a familiarity that Sister Aloysius believes can only lead to disrespect. However, what makes Aloysius most uneasy about Flynn is the relationship between him and the school's first African-American student. It's a relationship she believes has gone too far. Though she has little more than her gut to go on, Aloysius, with the ambivalent assistance of a young, idealistic fellow sister, goes about a private investigation to correct the wrong she knows has occurred.
The brilliance of Doubt (John Patrick Shanley's funny, suspenseful and finally devastating play) is its combination of Aloysius's forward drive with Flynn's compassionate intellect. Sister Aloysius could have been painted as a fire-and-brimstone kook, but Shanley allows us to see the steel rod of principle that supports Aloysius's stern demeanor and almost maddening certainty. Similarly, Father Flynn stands in for the forward-thinking, tender man of the cloth many long for in the wake of the sex scandal's of the Catholic Church. Yet there is also a subtle manipulation to Flynn's innocuous quirks that draws us in. We like Flynn while, like Aloysius, instinctively analyze his every word and action, for clues to the truth of the matter at hand.
Clocking in at around an hour-and-a-half, Doubt is a marvel of compact, streamlined narrative. There isn't a superfluous action or misplaced word, and the characters speak with the no-nonsense cadences of individuals who actually grew up and around the streetlights and subways of the Bronx. Shanley's depth of character and comprehension of narrative is made all the more stunning by his play's brevity. He is certainly assisted by director Doug Hughes's elegant staging and two towering performances by O'Byrne and especially Jones. If one can see this play live (currently at the Walter Kerr Theatre in New York), I highly recommend it. It was one of the most powerful theater-goeing experiences I've ever been privileged to attend.
Even if you can't, however, the piercing complexity of Shanley's words are worth every cent. We never do find out the truth behind Flynn's relationship with the young boy, although there is evidence for and against that can lead a reader to induce what they like. Shanley's ultimate vision is of the elusiveness and impossibility of the truth, and the price of certainty. And all the while, he never forgets the terse mystery and fascinating character study at the play's heart. It's a tribute to Doubt's ingenious construction and peerless insight that the play's final moments are its most revealing. A lie is uncovered, a resolution is decided upon, and the battered heart of a seemingly inconquerable woman is layed bare with a revealing, haunting final line.
In an age of theatrical uncertainty, the astonishing Doubt is beyond reproach.

Winner of the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, Doubt is, by turns, funny, shocking, stimulating, and ultimately, wise. Capturing the conflicts within St. Nicholas Church and its school in the Bronx in 1964, the play revolves around Sister Aloysius Beauvier, a rigidly doctrinaire school principal in her fifties who strictly controls both the staff and her students. A late entrant into the religious life, Sister Aloysius was married to a man killed during World War II, and the school has become her life. Sister James, a young teacher in her twenties, is temperamentally her opposite, a young woman who loves her students and is warm and generous towards them.

When Sister Aloysius concludes that Donald Muller, the first black student at the school, is getting too much attention from Father Brendan Flynn, she sets the play's central conflict in motion. Though she has no evidence that anything untoward has occurred, she proceeds as if Donald has been sexually abused by the priest, never doubting her conclusions. Sister James doubts Sister Aloysius and has faith in the priest.

The issue becomes more complex when both Sister Aloysius and Fr. Flynn approach the same church hierarchy--she to ask for an investigation and he to protect his reputation. Questions of doubt multiply, both for the characters and for the audience: Does something called "the truth" exist? How much should one accept on faith? When is an issue so important that one must put aside doubts and act? When do one's doubts lead to growth?

Set during a time when sexual abuse was not receiving the attention it has received in recent years, the play shows the damage which can occur when someone believes too easily in a specific "truth," whether that be the "truth" as defined by a prevailing culture, such as the church, or the kind of "truth" which one seeks in a courtroom. As the author points out in his preface, "We've got to learn to live with a full measure of uncertainty. There is no last word."

The play's four characters interact in a series of powerful and often moving scenes in which the "theatrics" are deliberately restrained. Shanley avoids easy answers to the mystery at the heart of this play, forcing the audience to think about the action as it unfolds, expanding the audience's vision, and showing that "It is Doubt that changes things." At the end of the play, the audience will be full of doubts about the central conflict, and that, according to Shanley, is good. n Mary Whipple

John Patrick Shanley's script for the play Doubt is a masterpiece. It is basically about "truth" as a social construct with a broad range of consequences depending on how the construct is framed and accepted. Sister Aloysius Beauvier, the Catholic school principal, is convinced that she has discovered a truth about Father Brendan Flynn, a robust likable assertive priest.

A great strength of this script is that Shanley leaves the mystery somewhat unresolved. Though some reviewers have concluded that Father Flynn did have some sexual involvement with the Black student, Donald Muller, there is still much room for doubt since Father Muller could have been transferred to another parrish to avoid Sister Aloysius' continued assault on his reputation and his peace of mind.

The script wisely begins with the central theme of the play, as given in a sermon by Father Flynn. He states: "What do you do when you are not sure?" The play cascades from this point with Sister Aloysius convinced of Father Flynn's guilt and Sister James wracked with moral uncertainty as to what is true or not true and what are the moral consequences for each decision.

The play is masterfully written, much like a detective story, in which each clue that propels you toward one solution is then counter-poised with another clue drawing you in the opposite direction and conclusion. The reader may suspend judgement throughout the play, absorbing the subtle clues that propel this clash of characters forward; or the reader may take sides, since Father Flynn is a likeable, robust, assertive, clever, strong, person who is contrasted with the cold rock strength and certainty of Sister Aloysius, who is never presented as especially warm or compassionate yet her actions speak to great compassion if indeed she fully believes she is interrupting the sexual predatory actions of Father Flynn.

The play's strengths are expanded when we hear from Donald Muller's mother who tells us her son is an effiminate child who was been repeatedly beaten in public schools as well as by his father for his effiminate behaviors. In Catholic school, his mother hoped he would be protected. The wise Mrs. Muller realizes that her son's effiminate behavior is strongly correlated with same-sex eroticism when she tells Sister Aloysius 'my son is that way'. Thus this wise mother sees the possible affectionate attentions of this white priest toward her son as far more desirable than the hostility he experiences from young males in public school or from his own father. The character of Mrs. Muller is unexpected, and throws a complete different light onto the actions of the play. Sister Aloysius thought she had found a partner and then found more than for which she had bargained.

I must say, Father Muller's opening sermon, the sermon about doubt which originally sets Sister Aloysius upon his trail, is wonderful. The tale is of a sailor who experiences a terrible ship wreck at sea, and amid the confusion climbs aboard a raft and is the only man saved in the wreck. He sets his course based on the stars since he has learned to navigate from the stars. Yet for the next 28 days the clouds cover the sky every night and he is uncertain whether he remains on course or whether he is doomed. Father Flynn equates this to spiritual/religious revelation/inspiration followed by years of doubt. Yet the questioning and the seeking create a bond with truth and thus doubt becomes as strong a spiritual tool as certainty.

With not a word out of place, this play is a modern masterpiece bound to be a classic.

John Patrick Shanley has written a short, but superb play. Not one word is unnecessary. Power seems to just evaporate from the pages and I would love to see it on stage. Shanley writes like Tennessee Williams, suspenseful and yet still full of meaning.

Two nuns suspect a priest of foul play with the Catholic school's first black student. One nun continues to persecute the priest further, seemingly certain of his guilt, but later we learn she was never really very certain. Another nun is torn between the seemingly harsh nun and seemingly kind priest. We also see the priest certain of his position and his superior who would never doubt the priest's merits. The boy's mother also appears. The play may not seem that dramatic, but it is and not only does it deal with the characters' doubt it also deals with our own up through the very last page.

This play provokes great thought about certainty, whether it exists, and what it does for us.

I saw "Doubt" this weekend down in the Twin Cities. While you are more likely to see a national touring company of a Tony Award winning musical, such as "The Light in the Piazza" (which we will see in a couple of weeks), Tony Award winning dramas do make it out to the hinterlands from time to time. What was rare was that the cast was headed by Cherry Jones, who won her second Tony Award for originating the role of Sister Aloysius on Broadway. Usually you have to go to New York City to see the stars in the show (or maybe Los Angeles, which is where I saw Michael Crawford do "Phantom"), so this was a real treat. The draw might have been an award-winning actress, but by the end of the performance the star is John Patrick Shanley's Pulitzer Prize winning play.

"Doubt: A Parable" is set in a parochial school in the Bronx in the Autumn of 1964 and begins with a homily by Father Flynn that questions the role of doubt in the modern world and sets the stage for the drama. The priest asks the audience, "What do you do when you're not sure?" Then Sister Aloysius, the principal of the school, has a meeting in her office with young Sister James, who is warned about being too passionate about teaching history to her students in general and in particular not to turn FDR into a secular saint. Sister Aloysius is not a sympathetic figure, especially given that our introduction to the nun is to watch her crush the joy of teaching out of a young teacher. However, then she makes Sister James aware that she has concerns for a new student, Donald Mueller, the school's first black child. Her concern is not because of the boy's race, but because she suspects Flynn has been "interfering" with the boy.

Distance makes it difficult to remember the times, but an undercurrent of the play is how Sister Aloysius is strictly old school while Father Flynn has embraced the directives of the Second Vatican Council to make the clergy more accessible to their parish and become like "members of their family." Shanley does not get into deep theological issues but finds a telling point of contention in Sister Aloysius' dismissal of the song "Frosty the Snowman" as an example of paganism. Yet despite our lack of agreement with her strict conservatism, it is impossible not to be concerned about Sister Aloysisus' suspicions regarding the charismatic young priest who likes his fingernails to be slightly long.

I have a background in competitive debate so one of the things I appreciated in Shanley's drama is how he balances the two sides to create the requisite titular state. When I was dissecting the play with my wife on the way home from the theater I discovered that while I (male Italian raised Lutheran) was looking at the play from the assumption of the priest's innocence, she (female Irish raised Catholic) was assuming he was guilty. Of course the play works both ways, but certainly there have been more than enough headlines about stories of abuse in the Catholic Church in the past decade to make it easier for the play's audience to jump to the same conclusion as Sister Aloysius.

Coming to a decision as to the "truth" of what happened between Father Flynn and the young boy is a question of when you decide to place your bet on who to believe. Sister Aloysius begins the play with her suspicions and moves towards certainty on her own timetable. Sister James serves as a warning not to decide too early, but Shanley clearly wants us to come to our own decisions before the drama's "resolution." Waiting until you are sure is to repeat Hamlet's tragic error, which is not to say that Sister Aloysius is the Dane's opposite because she is not guilty of the proverbial rush to judgment. The term "reasonable doubt" is never used in the play, but it certainly comes into play as the nun commits to certainty in advance of having absolute proof, mainly because being denied such proof cannot, in her mind at least, preclude action. Sister Aloysius wants to know what really happened between Father Flynn and Donald, even if the boy's mother is willing to turn a blind eye.

For me the point at which Sister Aloysius becomes heroic is when Father Flynn threatens her for her refusal to follow Church protocols. He seeks to convince her that she has no choice, because failure to obey would basically send her to Hell for disobedience. But she sees herself in the same danger if she falls to do what she can to save one of her children, and in her decision to damn herself for the right reason and his decision to coerce rather than persuade is where my doubts were erased. For me the most delicious irony is the way Sister Aloysius' crucial phone call mirrors Father Flynn's point earlier in the play about the value of true stories. The final line of the play is also dripping with irony in a very conscious effort by Shanley to leave his audience exactly as he wants them to be.

Sister Aloysius is a very strict private school principle. She's always on the look out for things not going right in her school. If she gets something on her mind, she will believe she's right until someone proves she isn't. When she accuses Father Flynn of inappropriate actions with one of the students at the school, he is outraged and says she is ruining his reputation. Sister James is caught in the middle and doesn't know who to believe. Father Flynn seems to have a pretty good story backing him up, and Sister Aloysius doesn't have any proof that he did anything at all wrong. Sister James had a talk with Father Flynn and is pretty much on his side, but Sister Aloysius says she knows she is right and even confronts Father Flynn about it. When she does, she tells him that she called the church he worked at before he transferred to this school, and a nun there told him why he had resigned form there. It was because of inappropriate actions with a student there. Although she was lying, she found out what she thought was the truth. From his reaction to the lie, she could tell that he really had done something like that at his old church. This was enough to convince Sister Aloysius and enough to make Sister James, who until now had been on Father Flynn's side, to think about changing her mind. Father Flynn resigned from the church, which Sister Aloysius took as his confession of thing actions he was accused of. I think this is an excellent book. It really makes the reader think about what is right, and makes them think about what they would do if they were in a similar situation. The way the book takes a turn at the end, and makes Father Flynn look guilty, at least to Sister Aloysius. Also, the way the author used Sister James as an onlooker was creative. This book is excellent and it's great for any reader, as long as they don't mind it being based on the Catholic religion.
Doubt teaches the reader a lesson. It really makes you think about what's going on in your mind when you have to decide who to believe in an argument. It can easily relate to most people, because just about everyone comes to a point where they don't know who to believe. Both sides of an argument can easily look right. This really makes the reader think about wither or not Father Flynn really did the actions he was accused of. It never tells you if he did or not and never states directly who Sister James believes. The author leaves it for the reader to believe whichever side they want.
The author makes it seem like Sister Aloysius will end up being wrong. Throughout the book, no proof is ever found against Father Flynn, so it seems like Sister Aloysius is making a ridiculous accusation, and the Father will be able to get her fired. In the very end she comes up with a sort of plan. She told a little white lie to get as close as she will ever get to proof that Father Flynn is guilty. Just his response wasn't enough to convince the bishop, but it did convince Sister Aloysius of what she was already almost sure of. It was also enough to make Father Flynn resign from the church.
Sister James is a character that is most like the reader. It seems like the author used Sister James to be an onlooker on the events. This book is a play, so it gives the reader the effect that she would be watching the Sister Aloysius and Father Flynn act out the play from the audience, just like the reader would. This character is what makes people think more. That's probably the best part of the book. You have to decide who to believe.
Doubt is a very deep book. When reading this, be ready to put yourself in the book, and make decisions. The way the author left the book without deciding the ending for the reader was great. This is an excellent book and I would recommend this to just about anyone. It is about the Catholic religion, but if the reader can get past that, it's perfect.

(...)

Are there times in the course of human endeavors where the end justifies the means? Are there times when mere suspicion is sufficient to take up arms against a potential threat? Suppose the potential victim is a child and the suspected predator is a person of power. Suppose the suspect is your superior? Suppose you are a nun and he is a priest. Do you act to stop him without proof? How much proof of harm, potential harm, do you need? Does the way the priest looks at the boy provide sufficient reason for a nun to interfere? Suppose the evidence of that "look" came to the nun second hand. Then what? What should the nun do?
The nun is Sister Aloysius, a worldly older nun. A disciplinarian. A traditionalist. She's wary of the young parish priest, Father Flynn, who makes up interesting parables that teach and inspire. Sister Aloysius is also uncomfortable with the fact that Father Flynn seems to enjoy playing basketball with the boys just a little too much. She's uncomfortable with the fact that the boys like rather than fear Father Flynn. In short, Sister Aloysius has doubts. She has doubts, serious doubts about Father Flynn. She decides.....No, she is compelled, compelled by doubt, serious doubt...compelled to act. Damn the facts! Damn the consequences! In the pursuit of wrongdoing, a nun has to do what a nun has to do. If the destuction of a man's reputation is the price to assure the safety of a child, then no doubt that's the way it has to be...Right?

The opening line of John Patrick Shanley's spectacular Pulitzer prize winning play asks the question "What do you do when you're not sure?" When you think that something may be so, but have no proof? Do you hold out for evidence, allowing your reservations to halt any action? Or do you boldly -- perhaps recklessly -- move forward on the "proof" afforded you by your gut instinct? The two sides of this argument make up the characters of Sister Aloysius Beauvier and Sister James, two nuns at a Catholic school and church in the Bronx in 1964 who suspect that Father Flynn, the pastor, may have engaged in an improper relationship with the school's only black student. Sister Aloysius, the stern and old-fashioned principal, demands that they immediately move to have Father Flynn removed from the school, while Sister James wavers that she may have misjudged the interactions between her pupil and the seemingly benevolent Father Flynn. Since the nuns cannot go to their institution for help (Flynn would deny any wrongdoing and the monsignor would take his side) they must take action against Father Flynn directly to convince him to leave before they expose him. Naturally, Father Flynn denies any impropriety and seethes with indignation at his accusers (in righteousness? Or in desperation to protect himself?).

The story moves forward quickly and with a surprising degree of suspense and characterization. In just a few lines of dialogue you feel completely plugged in to the world the play is set in and who the characters are (a particularly amazing feat when it comes to Mrs. Muller, a character who is in only one scene but leaves perhaps the heaviest impact). The true glory of Shanley's play is its ambiguity. Is Sister James right to have reservations about Father Flynn? Is Sister Aloysius embarking on a senseless and cruel witch-hunt? Did Father Flynn commit a heinous crime against a young child? The answers are open to interpretation, which may frustrate some people who prefer to have everything laid out for them. But the ambiguity is what leaves a lasting impression because it prompts numerous discussions and thought processes in its reader, sharpening the emotional impact of the play so that it will not leave you for a long time after it ends (I saw the play performed in New York last June and it still has me thinking). I was glad to get it in book form so that I can refer back to it and re-interpret it and re-experience it again and again.

The other amazing thing about "Doubt" is that it reads just as well as it plays. I admit that I missed Cherry Jones, who brought such verve and humanity to the role of Sister Aloysius, and Adriane Lenox, who dealt an emotional wallop as Mrs. Muller (seeing her perform the part brings out the complexities of the character in ways that the dialogue alone cannot), but it holds up surprisingly well, and I would highly recommend this play.

Sometimes a media blitzkrieg on a particular issue, in this case, the unraveling clergy sex scandal within the Catholic Church, can be so over dominant to the extreme that the genuine horror of its totality and those directly and indirectly affected, can regrettably seem like an unreality, a movie scene where human detachment is at its strongest. Where the media oftentimes fails to evoke a mood of empathy and personal involvement to what they are reporting--as they are covering facts--art, particulary dramtic art of the theatre, can bring into sharper focus the finer points of a tragedy or evil that those who are especially hardened and jaded by cynicism or total desensitization can not fully bring to the forefront, no matter how hard they try. And where journalists have sometimes failed in the telling of the humanness of the clergy sex scandal-and I specifically mean the victims-John Patrick Shanley has unundoubtedly succeeded, for Doubt, though very short, is quite powerful in its telling and the message it conveys: complete blind submissiveness and ignoring gut instincts--no matter how far fetched--is never a good thing, irrelevant if one is in a church environment or not. Doubt, in general, is a very healthy and normal thing to have, especially in this day and age. Unfortunately, it took the church sex scandal to starkly illustrate that point. In Doubt, the setting is a Catholic church in New York, specifically the Bronx, the time frame being the early to mid sixties. The characters are Father Brendan Flynn (the accused), Sister Aloysius Beauvier (the accuser), Sister James (the witness) and Mrs. Muller (the victim's mother). Sister James, an idealistic nun of the order of the Sisters of Charity, loves history and the teaching of it to students, especially receptive ones. Sister Aloysius has lived life, seen much and knows when to be sceptical. Though she is older and wiser, she is faith filled and dogmatically principled to even the most minute detail of Catholic thology:

Sister James: Oh, but everyone loves the Christmas pagent.

Sister Aloysius: I don't love it. Frankly it offends me. Last year the girl playing Our Lady was wearing lipstick. I was waiting in the wings for that little jade.

And then there is Father Brendan Flynn, rather happy-go-lucky with an initial attitude of dismissive cordiality, the one on 'easy street' who commands respect because of the Roman collar around his neck or so he has firmly convinced himself. However, when Sister James bears witness to an event and the aftereffects upon one of her students--Donald Muller--she brings the matter to Sister Aloysius, who despite concrete proof, knows full well what is going on and conducts an investigation that, bit-by-bit, bears disturbing fruit. Though Sister James is desperate for excuses, Sister Aloysius is unyielding in her doubt, especially the pragmatic explainations offered by Father Flynn. What he has to say is not good enough, and she goes beyond the rigid hierarchal structure for the greater good:

Sister Aloysius: I did not speak to the pastor. I spoke to one of the nuns.

Flynn: You should've spoken to the pastor.

Sister Aloysius: I spoke to a nun.

Flynn: That's not the proper route for you to have taken, Sister! The Church is very clear. You're supposed to go through the pastor.

Sister Aloysius: Why? Do you have an understanding, you and he? Father Flynn, you have a history.

Doubt is a definite parable, because there is a mythical and supernatural aura to the Catholic Church, an aura that can occasionally get lost within itself--as history has clearly proven--and thereby spread, unintentionally, errors to a wider audience. But as in the case of Sister Aloysius, it took her intuition and pitbull doggedness to cut through the convoluted self-righteousness in order that goodness could prevail. What Doubt will hopefully do is restore some degree of dialogue and trust, because for every bad apple there is indeed a large abundance of good holy priests who yearn to serve with humility, respect, compassion and mercy.

John Patrick Shanley, Doubt (Theatre Communications Group, 2005)

Made into a film a few years ago that many raved about. I haven't seen it yet, because I was waiting until I read the play. Well, now I've read the play, and I don't know why I'm surprised about this, but what I was expecting given the trailers for the film and what I got are two entirely different things. It should go without saying, naturally, but that was quite a pleasant surprise. I've had some bad run-ins with Pulitzer-winning stuff recently; this was not at all one of those times.

Doubt focuses on a single incident in a Bronx Catholic school in the mid-sixties. Sister Aloysius, a dried-up, bitter old prune, suspects that Father Flynn, a new priest at the school, has sexually abused Donald Muller, the school's first black student. In order to get some sort of evidence that this may be true, she enlists the help of Sister James, Donald's teacher, an idealist whom Aloysius hopes to use to her own twisted ends.

There's one thing I'm not entirely sure of here, and it's been giving me fits ever since I finished the play. It seems to me obvious that Aloysius is spinning this tale out of whole cloth in order to manipulate things to her liking (getting rid of the minority element, banishing one teacher she doesn't like and making another knuckle under to her own vision of the way things should be). But I'm not sure whether that should be quite as obvious as it is, or whether in fact I'm wrong about this entirely and the situation is supposed to be more ambiguous. That said, it's the only qualm I have about the play, which is written just as well as you'd expect something that garnered that many awards to be written (along with the Pulitzer, it pulled down a number of critical awards and four Tonys). The characters are perfectly drawn, the plot touches on issues that are probably more relevant today than they were in the sixties without getting heavy-handed about it (the play's single greatest achievement), and the dialogue is quick and sometimes, surprisingly, quite witty. This is good stuff, good stuff indeed. Highly recommended. **** ½