Impassioned Ambiguities
By Tom Wachunas
“Doubt requires more courage than
conviction does, and more energy; because conviction is a resting place and
doubt is infinite – it is a passionate exercise. You may come out of my play
uncertain. You may want to be sure. Look down on that feeling. We’ve got to
learn to live with a full measure of uncertainty. There is no last word. That’s
the silence under the chatter of our time. ”
― John Patrick Shanley, author of Doubt
John Patrick
Shanley’s 2005 Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Doubt,
is a 90-minute drama with no intermission. On one level, this riveting work
could be called an unresolved cerebral and emotional thriller.
The story unfolds in 1964 at a Catholic school
in the Bronx. The school principal, Sister Aloysius, accuses Father Flynn of
sexual misconduct with 12 year-old Donald Muller, the school’s sole black
student. Seemingly convinced that her allegations are provable, Sister Aloysius
embarks on a campaign to expose and oust Father Flynn. In the process she
attempts to rally support from the boy’s teacher, Sister James, and the boy’s
mother, Mrs. Muller, who has her own very compelling reasons for resisting
Sister Aloysius’ efforts.
In a recent Canton
Repository article (January 4) about the current Players Guild production of
the play, director Craig Joseph said,
“The idea is to create a production that itself creates doubt. It fails if
people walk out thinking, ‘He’s guilty’ or ‘He’s not guilty.’ It’s fun figuring
out ways to shift and change the audience’s sympathies.”
Joseph has indeed figured out how to shift our
sympathies in powerful fashion, thanks to the altogether gripping articulations
from his cast of four. These articulations spring from the sharpness and depth
of Shanley’s writing and its many forays into wily ambiguity. What’s written,
however, could never come fully to light and life but for the prowess required
to speak a language without words. Here in the intimate surrounds of the
Guild’s arena space we’re able to clearly see that the cast has mastered the
potency of nuanced physical expression – furrowed brows, eyes frightened or
narrowed, snarling lips, heaving or stiffened shoulders, arched backs. In this
tense he-said–she-said game of cat and mouse, queries and allegations are
wielded like swords, parried with responses at once eloquent and terse, and all
to the point, as it were, of stunning uncertainty. Even the silences that
punctuate the fast-moving dialogue are voluminous with myriad unspoken questions.
Meg Hopp is a relentlessly commanding presence
as Sister Aloysius. She perfectly embodies her character’s wry and rigid world-view,
steeped as it is in the
self-righteousness and pernicious judgementalism that fuels her strident
refusal to grant the possibility of Father Flynn’s innocence. She renders a
complex portrait, colored with debilitating pessimism and real exasperation
with what she considers to be the inept pastoral leadership in her community. She
sees Sister James as too impressionable, lacking in wisdom and real-world
experience - a potential ally who needs to be molded. In that role, Lana
Sugarman is wholly endearing in her obsequious way, exuding a sweet
vulnerability and bubbly optimism. At first not believing the report of Father
Flynn’s sinful actions, as the play progresses she struggles mightily to grasp
the darker implications of the circumstances emerging around her.
Ryan C. Nehlen’s magnetic
portrayal of Father Flynn makes it easy to understand Sister James' initial
incredulity. He’s gentle and confident, erudite, and indisputably charismatic. And
yet from the play’s outset, when he delivers an intriguing sermon that extols the
spiritual value of being “stricken by private calamity,” Nehlen’s delivery - alternately
poker-faced and impassioned - has the
uncanny effect of presaging trouble ahead and his more acerbic exchanges with
Sister Aloysius.
A startling surprise ensues when Sister
Aloysius has a short conference with Mrs. Muller, played by Joy A. Ellis. For
all of that scene’s brevity, Ellis packs it with an authentic and heartrending
emotional intensity – a shift that significantly enlarges the philosophical
dimensions of the story.
There’s good reason
to call this play “a parable.” On the surface,
its words might suggest an
indictment of corrupted Catholic patriarchy and
priestly pedophilia. In the end, though, I think the apparent religious context
is somewhat cosmetic in nature, and arguably better regarded as symbolic of a
larger societal malaise.
Is it still
reasonable to want our words to describe or report reality in absolute,
unarguable terms? In this troubled age
of moral and philosophical relativism, words can be especially convenient
weapons, too easily abused, leading to tragic judgements. If nothing else, Doubt presents us with the capacity of
words to veil as much as they reveal, to incite and justify uncertainties
rather than declare unassailable truths. Playwright Shanley’s sobering,
arresting words are woven together into a gray tapestry of innuendo, of
assumptions acted upon as fact, of accusations without proof. Think of his play as a compelling allegory of the
doubtful practices rampant on so many of our current social media platforms,
the “…chatter of our time.”
Doubt – A Parable, by John Patrick
Shanley / Directed by Craig Joseph,
at Players Guild William G. Frye Theatre,
Cultural Center for the Arts, 1101 Market Ave. N., Canton / THROUGH
JANUARY 28, 2018 / shows at 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday, and 2 p.m. Sunday.
TICKETS: $20 adults, $17 seniors, $13 ages 17 and younger.
Order at 330-453-7617 and www.playersguildtheatre.com
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