From stage to screen: why DOUBT is amazing in all its forms

 

Doubt is one of the best films I have ever seen. I feel the need to say this, because it will become evident in this writing. It represents a kind of movie that we don't see very often. It has virtually no "action;" it's full of extended scenes of dialogue; it's a mystery; and it is a completely different film to every person who sees it. Every moment and camera move, no matter how small, holds significance. It begs to be examined, poked, and prodded over multiple viewings and offers something new each time. It tells its story, but doesn't tell us how to feel about it.

I first found out that Doubt was adapted from a play when I was rooting for it to win "Best Original Screenplay" at the Academy Awards, and it wasn't even nominated. Instead, I found it in the "Best Adapted Screenplay" category. Released in 2004, Doubt, a parable, is written by John Patrick Shanley, who also wrote and directed the big screen version. After reading the play, I noticed that there are intense similarities and stark differences between the two versions, but they compliment each other well. Reading the play focused my eye on small details in the film; and watching the film, I see benefit in the more disciplined and simple approach of the play. Shanley has achieved an amazing feat, in that he's written a story and shaped the best elements of it across two very different mediums. Both the play and the film are full of theatrical and cinematic elements, squeezed and molded together in near perfect harmony.

The Title

One immediate difference between the film and the play are the titles. Both are called Doubt, but the play has two added words: , a parable. The definition of parable is this: a simple story illustrating a moral or religious lesson. The core of both the film and play are the same, almost all of the dialogue in the play is used in the film, and several key scenes go almost unchanged (in dialogue). Why remove , a parable from the film title? Well, because the film takes the play to a realm beyond parable and because Shanley may not want it typecast. Theater audiences are used to being challenged; it's the nature of the medium. When watching a theatrical production, audiences are always forced to fill in details with their own imaginations, and, unless they got the good tickets, often view from afar. Big words, flamboyant gestures, bright colors, and deep meanings (allusions, metaphors) behind character interactions are one way theaters keep audiences interested. There are no fancy effects and close-ups in theater. Only a single stage and possibly a few wardrobe changes.

Cinema audiences are used to having everything handed to them on a silver platter (metaphor). When they are supposed to feel uneasy, the camera moves close and non-diegetic music score kicks in to tell them exactly how they should feel. Shanley is already asking cinema audiences to accept a film that doesn't hand everything to them. By taking , a parable out of the title, he's choosing not to rub it in their faces.

The Characters

There are three main characters in both the play and film: Sister Aloysius (Al-ooh-ish-us), Father Flynn, and Sister James. Sister Aloysius is in her fifties/sixties and the hardened principal of St. Nicholas, a Catholic church. She becomes suspicious that Father Flynn, the priest of the church, may be having inappropriate relationships with the students. Sister James is a very young innocent nun, and is teaching the 8th grade. She also grows suspicious of the Father after noticing odd behavior in Donald Miller, the school's first black student (it's 1964).

Streep as Sister AloysiusI am at the unfortunate disadvantage of seeing the stunning performances of the film before reading the play, so I cannot help but transfer the voice of Meryl Streep onto Sister Aloysius and see Philip Seymour Hoffman when I read Father Flynn's lines. With that said, there are noticeable differences.

In the play, Sister Aloysius comes across as a much more coarse individual. She has a sharper tongue and is in charge of almost every situation. She is a verbal and intellectual match for everyone she meets. In the film, Streep plays her with many more layers. She still outsmarts her opponents, but she does so with visible regret and uneasiness. When her and Father Flynn have their big final confrontation, Streep holds back and acts noticeably reserved for the first half of their conversation while Flynn yells; then at the right moment, she lets loose and surprises him with her strength. In the director's commentary, Shanley compares Streep's performance in this scene to boxer Muhammad Ali, in that she lets him wear on her, then comes out swinging in the end. In the play, their confrontation is less paced. It reads as if they are both yelling at one another from the start; the argument continually escalates, barreling on toward climax.

Hoffman as Father FlynnIn the film, Sister Aloysius is still uncomfortable with new things like ballpoint pens and music classes, but shows a sense of humor about it. Director Shanley also lets us see much more of her small behaviors than we are afforded in the nine-scene play. Instead of just hearing her talk about helping Sister Veronica, who's going blind, we see her actually lift the Sister's hand at dinner, and place it on her fork, actively demonstrating her compassion for others.

Father Flynn's character, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, is similarly deepened, but unlike Sister Aloysius, grows more mysterious instead of more understandable and relate-able. We see him privately with Donald Miller, and grow suspicious of his relationship with the child, but the camera never condemns him. In one scene, absent from the play, we see him alone in a room with 15 or so kids sitting around a table. Pitchers and glasses of green Kool-Aid dot the table as Flynn has a very casual conversation with the children about how to ask a girl to a dance. "What if you can never get a date?" one boy asks. "Well, then you become a priest," says Flynn. Adams as Sister JamesIn another moment absent from the play, we see him looking through a crack in Sister Aloysius' door as she talks to Donald Miller's mother. He looks visibly rattled. Is he bothered because of guilt, or because he fears losing his job? We don't know.

Sister James is fleshed out similarly to Sister Aloysius. Played by Amy Adams, she is still innocent and naive. She still wants nothing more than for everything to be resolved and to sleep at night again. But in the film, we actually see her interact with her students. When Sister Aloysius gives her teaching advice, we watch her take it to heart, and see how adopting a sterner tone with the children affects her. In one scene she screams at a child, but almost bursts into tears after realizing how close to Sister Aloysius she is behaving. The more we learn about her, the more we trust her.

The Students

Foster as Donald MillerPerhaps the largest difference between the play and film is that we never see the students in the play, we only hear the main characters talk about them. The film, on the other hand, shows us many scenes only mentioned in the play, and even takes pains to show other children and their reactions to what is going on around them. Before we even meet the main characters, we follow student Jimmy Hurley (Lloyd Clay Brown) on his way to mass—he's an altar boy. He meets up with Donald Miller (Joseph Foster), also an altar boy, who asks him a very peculiar question: "do you think I'm fat?" From that early moment, we wonder about Donald Miller just as much as any main character. Why would he ask a question like that? Later, we see him approach Father Flynn in the restroom, where Flynn gives him a toy.

Jimmy Hurley, who might actually know about the priest and Donald's relationship, is seen giving offbeat reactions, sometimes bothered, to things the Father says. We also see Father Flynn grab the hand of William London (Mike Roukis), and we see London quickly recoil. It's an odd reaction for William London, a kid so tough that he gives himself a bloody nose to get out of class early. In another interaction between the two, Father Flynn shows London his nails and London recoils again. The children are as much a part of the onscreen story as any main character. Oddly, most of their reactions go largely unnoticed upon first viewing. In this way, the film differentiates itself more in repeated viewings than it does upon first watch. Most of the big moments we remember are still the ones the film shares with the play.

Splitting up the Dialogue

Director Shanley uses a number of cinematic techniques to break up the large chunks of dialogue present in the play. In the play, the scene where Sister Aloysius talks to Mrs. Miller (the excellent Viola Davis) about her son takes place entirely in the Principal's office. In the film, it starts there, but Aloysius decides to walk with Mrs. Miller as she heads to work. By doing this, he takes a static scene and adds variety to its setting. We get a sense of who Mrs. Miller is—she can't even afford to take a 30 minute lunch break—and gain a more tense interplay between the two as they walk down the street. When they stop to look at one another, it means more than them looking at one another in an office, where such an action is more expected. When Mrs. Miller starts walking back the other way out of nervousness, it heightens the dialogue that much more. A closed stage doesn't allow this level of movement.

The second scene in the play, where Sister Aloysius and Sister James first talk, is split up across the entire first third of the movie. The two talk in Sister Aloysius's office (as in the play), they talk in the hallway, they talk in the cafeteria at lunch, they talk in James' classroom, and they talk in the tool shed. By varying the location, the audience gains a better grasp on the life of the nuns, while also fleshing out the dynamic between the two Sisters more fully than the play could hope to show.

Other scenes keep one setting, but add smaller flourishes to add a cinematic touch to a scene written for the stage. The scene where Sister James, Father Flynn, and Syster Aloysius first meet in the Principal's office is one of the most emotional moments in the play. To bring such an extended scene to the screen without losing the audience's attention, Shanley adds little events to stir up the lighting, camera, and force characters to move around. First Sister Aloysius pours tea for Father Flynn, who has sat in her desk seat, stealing her authority very subtly. After some talking, she gets up and opens the blinds, almost as if she's interrogating a prisoner. The sun from the window shines brightly on Father Flynn who soon has to get up and shut the blinds because he is uncomfortable in the light. He asks Sister James to get him more tea. Then the intercom rings for Sister Aloysius. When she returns, we see Aloysius behind her own desk and in the position of power. Once there, she begins seriously questioning Father Flynn about Donald Miller. During the heat of their argument, a phone rings, and they both ignore it. Sister James grows nervous and can't stand that no one is answering the phone. All these interruptions are very natural and only serve to heighten the drama of the dialogue. I imagine some techniques are used during the stage version, but only cinema offers the close-ups, camera angles, and lighting changes that make these flourishes effective.

Smaller motifs run throughout the film that are absent from the play. While the play mentions a wind storm, the film shows Sister Aloysius having to deal with changing weather much more often. Several times, the light in her office blows out, she is forced to close drafty windows, and walks outside where leaves whisk around her. During a dinner scene, she looks down at her napkin, notices it blowing, and comments that the "weather is changing" around her. During a sermon, Father Flynn compares gossip to feathers flying out of a pillow. "Now go out and pick up all the feathers that flew out on the wind [when you stabbed the pillow]," he asks. The woman in his sermon says it can't be done; the feathers flew everywhere and are gone. "And that," says Father Flynn, "is gossip!" We hear these words in the play, but seeing the feathers fly out in the film is striking.

Conclusion

Doubt, a parable has its strengths. While the many extra scenes and flourishes in the film add depth and more layers of ambiguity, they do distract from the driving narrative of the story. By cutting to the core of the story, the stage production teaches its lesson with more clarity. We know less about Sister Aloysius, Father Flynn, Sister James, and Mrs. Miller in the play, making their interactions more forceful. The film gives us more morsels to pick at, and many extra motifs and themes, but the central question of "doubt" sustains both stories. In the end, Shanley gives cinema audiences extra bits and pieces they need to stay interested in Doubt, just as he gives theatrical audiences exactly what they need to understand the parable he has written.

In an interview, Meryl Streep said that she accepted the role of Sister Aloysius after seeing the play. She had never seen a play that made the entire audience gasp several times. When I first saw Doubt, I was in shock the whole time; my jaw didn't shut until I left the cinema. When I read Doubt, a parable, I didn't stop reading, my jaw agape, until it was finished. You can't define amazing writing, amazing acting, and amazing directing, but you know when you see it. Doubt, in all its forms, is amazing.

Trailer and Poster