Can an actor get a good script please? I seem to see more movies than not that have excellent acting, but are saddled with a script that doesn’t do their skills justice. Oh, this doesn’t hold Philip Seymour Hoffman (Father Brendan Flynn) or Meryl Streep (Sister Aloysius Beauvier) back. Much. Both are great. Hoffman in a more conventional way. Streep seems to have invented new facial tics here, the likes of which I’ve never seen before.
This is a movie that doesn’t know how to end. It comes out of nowhere, and it doesn’t seem supported by what has come before. How can I say this, what with all the tony Tony’s the play has garnered? Watch me. I’m going to assume that the movie is rather faithful to the play, although I’m not sure why I would make that assumption. The thing is, unless the play was gutted, there’s not a hell of a lot going on here. Really, there’s not.
Hoffman gives a couple of good sermons as the beleaguered priest. Streep is the very core of indignation and intolerance, suspicion and righteousness. In the end though, like the parochial school Principal, we’re supposed to be left with ‘doubt’. OK.
***POSSIBLE SPOILERS – BUT I DOUBT IT***