From My Amazon Review of "Doubt"

A Hard Habit to Break

In "The Devil Wears Prada", Meryl Streep armored herself in an icily glamorous veneer and struck terror into the hearts of subordinates with a deadly combination of haughty contempt and soft-spoken venom. Her turn as an Anna Wintour-ish magazine editor was funny, yet subtle, never succumbing to over-the-top theatrics that would have propelled the performance into caricature. As the formidable Sister Aloysius in John Patrick Shanley's new film version of his Broadway hit, "Doubt", Streep again assays the role of an unlikable character, this time with a terrifying earnestness that eschews subtlety for the ferocious passion of a woman for her beliefs.

Set in an urban Catholic school circa 1964, "Doubt" unfolds in a rapidly changing America that many aren't yet ready to embrace. The Kennedy assassination is still fresh in everyone's minds, and the civil rights movement has resulted in the enrollment of the first black student in the Italian-Irish parish school. The parish priest, a forward-thinking and open-minded (relative) newcomer, is destined to clash with the school's principal, an old-school, fire-breathing dragon of a nun. When a question of priestly impropriety with the black student arises, all hell breaks loose, as Sister Aloysius jumps at the opportunity to rid her world of a man whom she clearly considers unworthy of wearing the robes of the priesthood. Whether her certainty of the priest's guilt is a manifestation of her dislike for the man, or a show of genuine concern for the welfare of the young student, becomes a point of contention between Sister Aloysius and the younger, sweet-natured Sister James who, naively, started the ball rolling in the first place. As Sister Aloysius relentlessly presses on with her unofficial (and unsanctioned) witch hunt, the filmmakers play on the audience's doubts, not only about the nun's motivations, but whether or not the priest actually engaged in an improper relationship with the boy.

As already noted, Meryl Streep's Sister Aloysius is a force to be reckoned with. A black clad harpy who eats nails for breakfast and has acid for blood, she's a likely descendant of Vincent Price's witchfinder general in "The Conqueror Worm". Utterly humorless, Sister Aloysius inhabits an archaic world in which everything can be viewed as either black or white, right or wrong. There are no grey areas and, thus, no room for doubt. That the times are changing is not lost on Sister Aloysius and, with her stern, strident face and quick, huffy mannerisms, the frustration is evident, even as she tries to enforce her sense of normalcy and values---her draconian Catholicism--on an institution that she fears will soon find her obsolete. It is not just the boy's welfare that is at stake, nor that of the priest, nor even the Catholic Church---it is the future of Sister Aloysius, herself, that hinges on evicting the interloper and his near-blasphemous (in her mind) ideas of progress and forward movement (thus calling into question the Sister's own authority). But just when think you've had enough and are secretly hoping that the priest, Father Flynn, will throw this merciless, headstrong woman out of a window, the actress gives us something--a gesture, a look, a tone--to remind us that Sister Aloysius is not invulnerable, that she is a real person who, behind the corporeal severity, is afraid and all-too-human.

Meryl Streep has long been regarded as one of the world's premier film actresses. There's a reason for that, and it's on display right here in this film. She has always had the ability to totally inhabit the characters that she's portraying, but in "Doubt", she goes a step further, causing me to momentarily forget that I was watching Meryl Streep giving a performance. For the duration of the film, she actually was Sister Aloysius. She's such a good actress that it's almost impossible to imagine her leaving the set to drive one of her kids to soccer practice. Or going home to prepare dinner. She's uncannily, impossibly, almost inhumanly good, and her performance in this film reminded me, once again, of what a spectacular talent she is.

For all of five minutes, Streep is nearly matched in the acting department by Viola Davis, a little-heralded actress who excels (all-too briefly) as the mother of the alleged victim. The scene where she and Streep walk along a sidewalk, discussing the implications of what the Sister is suggesting, and the subsequent reaction of the child's mother, is shattering. It is completely moving, without ever seeming maudlin or manipulative, the way plays-to-movies sometimes are.

As Father Flynn, Philip Seymour Hoffman does a fine job of bringing to life a conflicted, ambitious priest who wishes only to connect with the larger community and make the Church more inclusive, less intimidating. Being parish priest, Father Flynn occupies a loftier position than Sister Aloysius (demonstrated when he casually takes over her desk during meetings), but to her, he clearly occupies a lower moral plain: he smokes, he laughs and jokes with the students, he uses sugar in his tea---it's not a great leap from there to child molesting in Sister Aloysius' mind. On the surface, Hoffman's Father Flynn is a sincere, genial character, but as with other Hoffman roles, there's something edgier (and possibly a little perverse) going on underneath; in "Doubt", the question of guilt is never proven, and yet the ambiguity of Hoffman's performance causes doubts to remain long after the movie is over.

As Sister James, the true moral center of the story, Amy Adams is (as usual) luminous, even without makeup, and brings a convincing emotional depth to her character. Initially suspecting some sort of impropriety between Father Flynn and his pupil, Sister James almost immediately comes to regret her decision to confide in Sister Aloysius. An immensely watchable actress, Adams seems to be branching out and testing her mettle in more serious pieces of work, after a string of frothy, feel-good films of varying quality.

In shifting his Broadway success from stage to screen, director Shanley does an admirable job of making a smooth transition; I never got the impression that I was watching a filmed play, and the (roughly) 105 minute running time flew by so quickly that I'm not sure I ever blinked. Sitting in an audience composed largely of senior citizens, I noticed that not one of them got up to go to the bathroom during the movie, so that alone, speaks volumes.