‘Doubt’ falls flat in translation to the big screen

By SCOTT VON DOVIAK

Director-playwright John Patrick Shanley gets in the way of his own film.

John Patrick Shanley won a Tony Award and a Pulitzer Prize for the stage production of “Doubt,” but he may not have been the best choice to helm the screen version of the acclaimed play. His only other directorial credit is 1990’s “Joe Versus the Volcano,” an oddball romantic comedy that crashed and burned in its theatrical release (although it has since developed something of a cult following). Though Shanley’s extensive theatrical experience no doubt helped him coax compelling performances from his actors, some odd filmmaking choices make for a rocky transition from stage to screen.

It’s the fall of 1964, and Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is the forward-looking priest at the St. Nicholas Church School in the Bronx. “Doubt” opens with a sermon from Father Flynn on that very subject, which disturbs Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), who believes the church is all about certainty.

The nun, who also happens to be the principal of St. Nicholas, is already suspicious of Flynn when young novice Sister James (Amy Adams) reports a potentially troubling incident.

Sister James witnessed Father Flynn taking a young black boy, Donald Muller, to the rectory for a chat. She later saw Flynn returning a shirt to the boy’s locker, and worse, she smelled alcohol on the boy’s breath. It’s all circumstantial evidence, except to Sister Aloysius, who is convinced that Flynn is up to no good with Muller.

She summons the priest to her office on the pretext of discussing the Christmas pageant. He proposes adding a secular song to the program; she rejects “Frosty the Snowman” on the grounds that it espouses “a pagan belief in magic.” Muller’s name arises; Flynn figures out the real reason he has been called to the principal’s office; and the fireworks begin.

That’s what should happen, anyway, but through no real fault of Hoffman’s and Streep’s, this powder keg never ignites. Streep begins as a terrifying wraith of discipline and punishment, then gradually reveals a more human side.

Hoffman may have the more difficult role; he has to convey both warmth and creepiness in order to keep us off-balance — that is, to preserve the doubt.

Viola Davis arguably outshines them both in a brief turn as Donald Muller’s mother, who is willing to turn a blind eye to whatever may be happening for the perceived greater good of her son’s remaining at St. Nicholas.

Unfortunately, Shanley keeps getting in the way of his own story. He tries to jazz things up with off-kilter camera angles straight out of the ’60s “Batman” TV series, but “Doubt” still feels stagebound.

The play is designed to leave audiences arguing over what they have just seen, but the movie version drains too much ambiguity from the proceedings.

Award-worthy performances aren’t enough to keep “Doubt” from falling flat in the end.