Most of my elementary and middle school education was obtained at a small Catholic parochial school on Ward Street in the Pleasant Hill neighborhood of Macon. Within the parish complex was the two-story brick schoolhouse, the church, the rectory where the priest lived, and the convent that was the abode of the nuns. Several of the nuns that lived in the convent were also teachers and administrators at the school.

There was Sister Zoe, the school’s principal – a relatively young woman who was part nun and part Berkeley hippie. Occasionally seen without her habit, but rarely without her guitar, Sister Zoe would often strum soothing, folk hymns to us kids, while little cartoon squirrels and birds gathered around to hear her angelic voice.

Sister Ramona was the school’s first grade teacher and also taught the little kids’ Sunday school class before 9:00 Mass. A middle-aged woman with gentle eyes set in a warm and caring face and a perpetual smile, even when she was disciplining she seemed to do it jovially.

There was also Sister Celine, our religion teacher, who was so old that we joked that she probably went to high school with JC himself. For years, she taught us the basics of Catholic catechism, and lovingly crafted handmade items for us – like the little pastel pouches that held our rosary beads. In her tremulous voice, she’d recite a number of prayers, sayings, and religious poems to us over and over, so that we would learn them by heart (to this day I still remember most of James Weldon Johnson’s ‘Creation’).

And then there was Sister Carmelita. Unlike the other nuns at SPC who were of the order of the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, Sister Carmelita was a Sister of Mercy. An ironic name to say the least, for there was nothing merciful at all about the woman. I think her sole job at the school was to loom hawkish and frightening, always ready to mete out punishment for the smallest infraction. If Sister Carmelita caught you running in the halls on your way to or from recess, her shrill voice would stop you dead in your tracks. “You there. Missy Jane! You stop that horseplay right this instant!” Lingering too long between classes? Talking too loud during lunch in the social hall? Before you knew it, Sister Carmelita would swoop down, grab the offending party by the ears and cart the victim off to be boiled in a vat of hot chrism.

In the newly released screenplay, Doubt, Meryl Streep plays Sister Aloysius Beauvier, the stern, tough as nails principal of St. Nicholas Catholic school in the 1960s Bronx. Within minutes of seeing her on the screen, I sat straight up in my theater chair, eyes wide with shock and whispered unbelievingly, “That’s Sister Carmelita…”.

Like the notorious nun of my past, Streep’s Sister Aloysius is a fear-inspiring disciplinarian who sees everything and punishes dispassionately. She reigns over not only the students at the school but also over the other nuns of the parish, as the self-appointed guardian and enforcer of a strictly traditional moral and social code that she feels is under constant threat from outside influences.

When Father Flynn – played by Philip Seymour Hoffman – arrives as St. Nicholas’ new priest, Sister Aloysius quickly grows suspicious of his unconventional sermons and his chummy closeness with the children, and with one boy in particular. Her suspicions are fueled when Sister James, an innocent young teacher, reports that the boy in question – the lone black child in the school – has been acting strangely in class and receiving special attention from Father Flynn.

Throughout the rest of the film, Sister Aloysius is on a one-woman crusade to rid the school of the menace that is Father Flynn, even though she has no irrefutable proof. The audience must determine which of the two is right, and which one we should be rooting for. Is Father Flynn really just a new breed of pastor that’s more loving and touchy-feely than the old school Aloysius? Is Sister Aloysius just too cold and close-minded to understand? Or is Father Flynn singling out the weakest kid in school as the recipient of his inappropriate affections?

The film was adapted from a stage play, so there are a couple of cinematic devices that are a bit cheesy when translated to the screen. More than once, there’s the symbolism of the ‘winds of change’ blowing. Then there’s the scene where one of the housekeepers brings in a cat to catch a mouse – an all too-literal allusion to the cat and mouse game going on between Sister Aloysius and Father Flynn. But even those hokey references can’t dull the performances from the cast.

Philip Seymour Hoffman is affable and charming as Father Flynn. Even when you suspect he might actually be guilty of what he’s been accused of, you’re praying it isn’t true, because you like the guy so much. Amy Adams plays Sister James, who is the on-screen embodiment of every kindly and loving aspect of Sisters Zoe, Ramona and Celine. She plays the part with a fragile innocence that’s constantly threatening to spill over into tearful emotion due to the unpleasant circumstances. If pushed a little further, her performance would have come this close to being annoyingly sappy, but she adds a dash of somber earnestness that saves it. Viola Davis – who only has a small speaking part – delivers a movie’s worth of emotion in a single scene. Meryl Streep positively steals the show as Sister Aloysius. She nails the image of the hard-ass, take-no-prisoners Mother Superior, without sacrificing the human side of the character.

In addition to exploring the fairly recent controversy of pedophilia in the priesthood, the film expertly handles the less discussed subject of gender roles in the Catholic church. Despite all the power she wields in her little sphere, Sister Aloysius is ultimately powerless to challenge a man who is protected by a patriarchal structure that relegates women to the role of obedient servant. Ironically, the order and structure that she so relentlessly tries to uphold is the same order and structure that limits her ability to effectively act on her convictions. By the end of the film, we realize the double meaning of the title. Sister Aloysius’ doubts are not limited to her suspicions of Father Flynn, it extends to the everything she knows as right and true in her world.

cheers,

k

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Tags: good films, social commentary