A Potent Clash of Convictions and Moral Ambiguities in a Black-and-White World, by Misha Berson, The Seattle Times, September 29, 2006

A Potent Clash of Convictions and Moral Ambiguities in a Black-and-White World

By Misha Berson
The Seattle Times
September 29, 2006

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/theaterarts/2003280155_newdoubt29.html

"I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance," concluded Socrates.

One can easily agree with him while watching "Doubt," John Patrick Shanley's justly honored Pulitzer Prize play, now in its splendid regional debut at Seattle Repertory Theatre.

Riveting, unsettling and meticulously directed by Warner Shook, "Doubt" keeps one's sympathies oscillating between the moral absolutism of a stern Catholic school principal, Sister Aloysius (played with steely rectitude by Kandis Chappell) and the righteous fervor and more progressive stance of Father Flynn (mercurial Corey Brill), a priest she fears is a child molester.

Kandis Chappell plays Sister Aloysius and Corey Brill is Father Flynn in Seattle Repertory Theatre's production of "Doubt."
Photo by Chris Bennion

The ethical ground of "Doubt" consists of shifting sand. And that is the genius of Shanley's compact yet long-reverberating script. If you get comfy in your assumptions, "Doubt" plunges you back into a gray moral zone where certainty is a mirage.

Shanley's play (arguably this mature dramatist's best) is all the more remarkable in how deftly it transforms a drab milieu — a no-frills parochial school in working class Bronx circa 1964 — into a debating arena for matters of far-reaching profundity.

We meet Sister Aloysius, who has a stare that could freeze fire, as she is ostensibly evaluating an anxious novice teacher, Sister James (poignantly played by Melissa D. Brown).

The scene is surprisingly humorous — largely because the elder woman seems the epitome of the stereotypical nun-teacher as strict, joyless sourpuss.

Now playing

"Doubt," by John Patrick Shanley, Tuesdays-Sundays through Oct. 21 at Seattle Repertory Theatre, Seattle Center; $10-$48 (206-443-2222 or www.seattlerep.org)

Aloysius is a classicist who knows her Socrates, a fuddy-duddy who despises ballpoint pens, considers art classes a waste of time, and berates Sister James for enjoying teaching too much when her real task is diverting children from sin.

"Satisfaction is a vice," she proclaims. "Good teachers are never content." Yet even as you identify with the shamed, confused Sister James, her superior's intellectual rigor isn't easily dismissed. Or her ferociously protective concern for her flock.

Sensing something amiss in Father Flynn's attentions to the school's sole black student, Aloysius makes Sister James a reluctant spy. Then, on scant evidence, the elder nun bravely (or foolishly?) confronts the popular young priest with her suspicions. Her rueful comment that "men run everything" in the church hierarchy is borne out in a meeting with Flynn that quickly escalates into a high-stakes mental chess match.

Every move is tactical; many are surprising. Yet again, Shanley doesn't assign a clear victor in this power struggle. Flynn might simply be a misunderstood apostle of a "new" Catholicism of "warmth, kindness and understanding" emerging from Vatican II. Or he may be an arrogant abuser, who eludes punishment by currying favor with higher-ups, jumping from parish to parish and delivering self-serving sermons.

"Doubt" lets nobody slip off the hook — least of all the audience and our troubled surrogate, Sister James. The play also invites us to consider the wider implications of this stand-off — politically, educationally and for the future of American Catholicism, today hobbled by sex abuse scandals.

Shook's staging matches the 2005 Tony-winning Broadway debut of "Doubt" in its keen attention to every line, and its scrupulous acting by a faultless Chappell and her estimable cohorts (including Cynthia Jones, terrific as a concerned mother with her own agenda.)

The realistic design work by Michael Ganio is exemplary, too. That no-frills principal's office may be dreary as hell, but matters of great import occur there.

Misha Berson@mberson@seattletimes.com