Circa Theatre
Feb 10-Mar 10 | Reviewed by Helen Sims

THE DIRECTOR’S NOTE in the programme explaining the parabolic nature of Doubt is unnecessary to understand that this is a play that operates on several levels – on one level it is the story of a Catholic nun’s zealous quest to prove (even in the absence of objective proof) that a Priest who teaches at the school she is Principal of is having an “improper relationship” with the school’s first black student. This story is set in Brooklyn in 1964. This story has no clear resolution. On another level it is a parable (reinforced by Shanley’s slightly unnecessary addition to the title of the play when it was published) about the current climate of political and moral uncertainty in the Western world post 9/11. This story is set now, and resolution also doesn’t appear to be in sight.

The play has clear similarities to Arthur Miller’s The Crucible – both set their story in the past during another notable time of moral crisis and use it to reflect on current events. This is an extremely useful device – it is not as confronting and therefore enables thought on wider themes. Shanley is not really doing anything groundbreaking with Doubt – it is a conventional piece of mainstream drama that represents themes that others have considered, but this does not detract from the play.

The play is exceptionally well written – it deserves the swathe of awards it has collected (among them a Pulitzer). Shanley is not exactly subtle in the presentation of his themes, and although we are left to make up our minds as to Father Flynn’s guilt or innocence, the direction that he would like debate on his wider themes to develop does feel slightly rigged. The play is exceptionally well structured and the perfect length – a punchy 90 minutes.

Despite the excellence of the writing, the experience of Doubt’s staging in the US has demonstrated that its overall success depends on the performances of the two lead actors. Helen Moulder as Sister Aloysius and Simon Ferry as Father Flynn are more than a match for each other. Their confrontations over Sister Aloysius’s allegations are explosive and mesmerising.

At the conclusion of the play there’s no way to tell for sure if Father Flynn is guilty or innocent, or – more pointedly – if Sister Aloysius is on a path of righteous justice or vindictive persecution, although everyone seemed to have taken sides on opening night and were prepared to argue for their point of view. This is Shanley’s intention – he has likened it to the play having an extra act. Initially the audience is inclined to side with Father Flynn – he is likeable, down to earth and liberal in the practice of his faith. Shanley cleverly engages the audience through Father Flynn’s monologues – at the beginning of the play we are his parish as he delivers a sermon about uncertainty and encourages us not to let it divide us. Then we are the boys in his physical education class as he light-heartedly teaches imparts advice on standing firm to make the perfect shot. However, we find out later that he constructs parabolic stories of his own for his sermons, as the truth makes for poor instruction. He plays very much to the audience, in stark contrast to Sister Aloysius, who is contained and focuses her protective moralising influence directly on the other characters (and a severely pruned plant). Helen Moulder resonates with repression in playing Sister Aloysius – from her tense body language to her lowered, clipped voice. Yet, the audience is never left in doubt that despite her zeal, this is a woman who is intelligent and convinced (initially at least) that she is doing what she believes is best. When she confronts Flynn, he retorts that she has not the slightest bit of proof. She replies that she has her “certainties”, which seem to her to be greater than proof. However, we find out in the closing scene Sister Aloysius has resorted to doing something morally ambiguous in order to pursue her certainty in Father Flynn’s guilt. Thus, we are left with doubt – the compasses of right and wrong are thoroughly misplaced in this play. This is one of a series of phenomenal performances I have seen Moulder deliver – she absolutely doesn’t disappoint here.

In another vital scene, the mother of the boy at the centre of the controversy (played by Tanea Heke) challenges the audience to view the moral dilemma from more than one perspective when she re-acts to Sister Aloysius’s suspicions in a completely unexpected manner. Mrs Muller is determined to keep her boy in school and see him progress academically regardless of the truth of what Sister Aloysius has told her. She brings some “real world” mentality into the office of the sheltered nun, depriving her of some of her moral authority as she is revealed to be ignorant of the difficult and competing moral tensions operating in life outside the convent school.

The other character in the four person cast is Sister James, played by Angela Green. In enlisting her to try and establish grounds for her suspicions against Father Flynn, the seed of mistrust and uncertainty is planted in her mind that eventually leads to the destruction of her innocent joy in teaching and history. This is driven home when Sister Aloysius cuttingly reprimands her, “Innocence is only wisdom in a time when there is no evil.” Green plays the role with suitable lightness and innocence that is replaced with desolation and confusion as the play progresses.

Sue Rider’s direction is competent and light handed, but at some points I felt that pace could have been improved and the stage could have been used more. The drawn out fade outs and fade ins between scenes slowed the action down unnecessarily, but did provide an excellent opportunity to play the original music composed by Gareth Farr. The music suited the tone of the play – it was eerily uncomfortable and ominous. It sounded like a child’s wind up lullaby toy with a sinister twist – perfect for the setting of a school in which something is awry.

The play poses a question in both a narrow and wider sense: “What do you do when you’re not sure?” It’s concerned with questions never answered and for which there may be no answers: is the principal, Sister Aloysius (Jones), justified in her persecution of Father Flynn? Did he sexually abuse the school’s only black student? Or is Sister Aloysius merely exacting an unjust revenge on a priest who embodies the more liberal precepts of Vatican II? In the same way that she crusades against ball point pens, sugar being added to tea and a secular song (Frosty the Snowman) being sung alongside traditional nativity hymns. Is it right, in the pursuit of “truth” to follow one moral wrong with another?

The end of the play has little in reality to do with who was right and who was wrong. Instead we are left to reflect on an irredeemable degradation and loss of faith. Like Sister Aloysius, we are left with nothing, but doubt.