Spotlight: Doubt

It is a sad fact that a priest and a youngster raised in religion can no longer coexist without the near-certain suspicion of today's society. Stories of sexual abuses perpetrated by Catholic clergymen have shocked the world by exposing a very real flaw in an institution depended on by millions for moral guidance and spiritual strength. Doubt, adapted from the successful Broadway play and directed by its playwright John Patrick Shanley, at once preys on the cultural suspicion aroused by these crimes and challenges the virtue of that blind distrust. This parable of Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), the authoritarian principal who suspects him, thrives on the tension between these opposing points of view as much as on the determined performances of its key players. But the film succeeds most strikingly as a window into the conflicting cultures of men and women in a religious community struggling to adapt to a more secular age.

Set in Brooklyn in 1964, the central controversy of the story surrounds the relationship between Flynn and a young boy who struggles to find his way as the first black student at St. Nicholas parochial school. Sister Aloysius, a strict disciplinarian who monitors her students with an aim " to outshine the fox in cleverness", plants the seed of doubt in the mind of Sister James (Amy Adams), an enthusiastic and caring younger nun. Her misgivings about Flynn come to fruition when Sister James reports on his questionable interactions with the boy, and the movie's web of intrigue is set.

While Flynn fervently defends his innocence against the ruthless certainty of Sister Aloysius, the dramatic differences between the lives of priests and nuns reveal the polarizing effects of modernity on a church founded on a firm dedication to devout propriety. The aging women of St. Nicholas live the simple, virtuous lives that generations of nuns lived before them. With Sister Aloysius perched watchfully at the head of the table, they eat their meals and drink their milk  together in near silence, only speaking when she invites them to. These women are even forced to renounce their names upon entering the clergy, instead assuming those of the male saints revered in their patriarchal community. 

Sister Aloysius, played in a wonderfully loathsome turn from Ms. Streep,  represents the archetype of classic Catholic conservatism. Armed with a dedication to her religious tradition and a righteous faith she mistakes for moral certainty, Aloysius defies the changes of the outside world and molds her fellow women into the firm leaders she expects members of the clergy to be.

Of all of the nuns, Sister James in particular struggles with the old-fashioned code of conduct she is expected to live by; she genuinely cares for her students but cannot breach an unspoken student-teacher to offer them any support or guidance they might need. Under the supervision of Sister Aloysius, she learns to spy on students using the glass-framed portrait of a pope while she writes on the chalkboard, and somewhat hesitantly emulates her strict control of the classroom. At one critical moment, she snaps at a student for speaking out of turn, only to be overwhelmed by intense feelings of guilt. Ms. Adams skillfully expresses the conflict of parochial obligations with her own innocent goodwill, here and throughout.

In contrast with the stoic culture of nuns, the priests of St. Nicholas live much more comfortable lives. Their meals, shared over cigarettes and beers, are loud and lively, full of jokes and masculine banter. They are younger, more vital, and are more willing to forgive and understand than to punish and suspect. Where Sister Aloysius marks the pinnacle of conservatism, Father Flynn happily embraces change in the relationship of the church with the outside world. He believes in establishing a more familial quality in interactions with churchgoers and students, and seeks to act as a mentor and friend to his parishioners. 

Unlike Sister James, Flynn seizes opportunities to guide his male students through adolescence, mixing lessons on personal hygiene and proper free-throw technique on the basketball court and sharing insights into the strange new world of girls and school dances. Hoffman lends a warm face and glowing spirit to this new sense of community he hopes for in the church, making his argument for compassion all the more compelling. Sadly, it is this compassion that leads him to take young Donald Miller under his wing and face the damning suspicion of Sister Aloysius.

The tension between Flynn and Aloysius smolders onscreen as personal convictions about religious identity collide.  Perhaps the clearest statement of their antagonism appears in a clever sequence early in the film. Aloysius, framed in a low angle close-up at her desk, looks down coldly to off-screen left; a cut to a medium shot looks down on Flynn in a stairwell, who seems to return her gaze looking upward with an expression of reverent meditation. We expect the next shot to complete the eyeline match between the two, but instead of Aloysius' face, we see the golden glow of a stained-glass window featuring a heavenly image of the Virgin Mary. 

The order of this sequence seems to demonstrate the fundamental difference in perspective between Aloysius and Flynn: where she glares downward with suspicion upon her fellow man, he gazes upward to the heavens with warmth and kindness. This fundamental difference in tone influences the film's perspective (and inclines the viewer to ally with Flynn in my opinion), and makes the opposition between the two all the more compelling.