Doubt vs The Crucible

I’ve wrestled with how to respond to Doubt, because it carries the weight of meaning and ethics and it’s so clearly not just about a transitioning Catholic church in the 1960s, but about a transitioning United States in the present day. On the other hand, Doubt holds onto its theatre roots in a way I admire; it’s so passionate about language and words (how could it not—its playwright, John Patrick Shanley, is also its screenwriter and director) that I found myself craving subtitles, so I could watch the words as I heard them. Sometimes I want artifice. We all always talk about movies that seem real, or special effects where the technique is hidden, but sometimes I like the technique, especially if it’s that of the actors involved. The primary reason to see Doubt is to watch the acting. Not the characters, but the Acting. And Doubt has some of the best around.

Meryl Streep is Sister Aloysius, a school principal that elicits such fear and intimidation, her entry into the film reminded me of that of Darth Vader. Aloysius is sarcastic, stern, strict and traditional to the extreme. She thinks the school and the church are modernizing in dangerous ways, and holds a vice grip on what she considers unimpeachable values (she despises, for example, ballpoint pens. I’m no Catholic, but man, I’m with her on that one). In her mind, she’s upholding God’s will and protecting the souls of the children in the school. If I’m prone to exaggeration on here, it’s because of people like Meryl Streep. This is good stuff. Streep finds humor in a role that is largely humorless (in a movie with the heaviest of plots), but also lends gravity to every scene, sometimes with as little as a look over her glasses. During a climactic scene, she brandishes a crucifix like a claw, as if to show us that Sister Aloysius and the church are inseparable, and that they fight together. Meryl Streep, if you aren’t clear, is a good actor. You heard it here first.

Doubt is truly an ensemble piece though. Streep is paired with three other actors, each matching her scene for scene. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is Father Flynn (the marketing for Doubt sells him as a supporting player, but Hoffman is as much the lead as Streep). Flynn wants the Catholic church and schools to adjust for modern living, to bring in technology, embrace all walks of children, and most distressingly to Sister Aloysius, to soften their structure somewhat. The kids are terrified of Sister Aloysius, but with Father Flynn, they get hugs, basketball, and perhaps, altar wine. I say, “perhaps” because it happens or not off-screen, and is witnessed by no other characters. Father Flynn has taken to a young boy named Donald Miller, who happens to be the only black kid in the school. Donald was called to the rectory by Father Flynn, and when he returned to class, his teacher, Sister James (Amy Adams), smelled wine on his breath. Sister James tells Sister Aloysius, and Aloysius knows something has happened. She doesn’t have proof, she doesn’t ask around, she just knows it to be true. And because Sister Aloysius believes Father Flynn to be guilty of misdeeds with a young boy, she begins a campaign against him.

Is Sister Aloysius really acting out against Father Flynn, or against change in the school? Did he do anything untoward, or is he just providing friendship to the school outcast? Sister James loves the children in the school, and shares Father Flynn’s desire for progress (she’d love “Frosty the Snowman” in the Christmas pageant). But she also respects Sister Aloysius and wants justice if any is required. Amy Adams plays Sister James as the lone voice of innocence in the movie, and perhaps the lone voice of reason. She’s the least cynical character you’ll see in a movie this year. She’s countered by Viola Davis, as Donald’s mother. Mrs. Miller knows her son is discriminated against in school, and that he’s beaten at home, and finds a small bit of hope in the fact that Father Flynn is nice to him. In Doubt’s best scene, Mrs. Miller is confronted by Sister Aloysius, and flips the movie on its head for about ten confusing, heartbreaking minutes.

Doubt is a powerful movie that draws strength by not distancing itself too far from being a play. The school is the only location, and the characters are mainly seen in variations of one costume a piece. By keeping things simple, we’re able to receive the story, with all its conflict and questions, almost completely from the actors. And with actors like the four leads of Doubt, that’s exactly how I want it. 

Doubt will of course remind you of The Crucible. It was a play first, and gives its plot a religious setting as a metaphor for its real life commentary. In the case of The Crucible, the accused crime is witchcraft. But while Doubt succeeds at placing questions in the minds of the viewer, The Crucible is less successful. It opens with a scene of girls in the woods dancing and writhing around a big kettle. Uh, that’s witchcraft maybe, right? A little? That’s like if Doubt opened with Father Flynn and Donald Miller slow-dancing in the rectory. If we’re supposed to feel that the witch hunt is an unfair “witch hunt”, then maybe don’t stack the decks against those girls from the beginning? The Crucible, though, was adapted from the Arthur Miller play by Miller himself, so if he wanted the story to be less ambiguous, I’m no one to argue. A lot of the shriller moments of The Crucible, unfortunately, recall that earlier scene, and it’s so far-fetched, it doesn’t do the movie any favors to be reminded.

Once it gets going though, The Crucible is, like Doubt, a showcase for its acting ensemble. Watching The Crucible is not an act of being absorbed in another place and time. You’re just watching some really fine actors put on a show.  Daniel Day-Lewis is John Procter, who had an affair with Abigail Williams (Winona Ryder) and called it off. Abigail is out for revenge, and has chosen Procter’s wife Elizabeth (Joan Allen) as her target. Because this is Salem, Massachusetts in the 1600s, the quickest route for this is an accusation of witchcraft. It doesn’t matter if it was true, it only matters that someone believed it. Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible, of course, not only about the Salem witch trials, but about the Hollywood Communist scare of the 1940s and ‘50s. The trio of Day-Lewis, Ryder and Allen is the reason to watch The Crucible. Day-Lewis and Allen, come on, you know they’re good (I’d love to see them in another movie together), but the surprise is Winona Ryder. For someone who always seemed so trendy and modern, it’s interesting that Ryder made her mark in mainly period pieces. In The Crucible, she’s Donald Miller and Sister Aloysius in one vicious package. It’s maybe a little screamy for you, but I think it’s fun. More period movies should have a loose cannon character. Ryder had never had a part like that before, she’s maybe never going to again, and few saw this one in the first place. It’s worth your time, especially alongside Doubt, which is ultimately the better movie. No offense to Arthur Miller, but John Patrick Shanley knew what he was doing when he left that rectory off screen.

Doubt: A

The Crucible: B