DOUBT

Doubt is a gem of a movie, brave in concept and carrying some of the best performances of 2008. Seldom has a film’s theatrical origin worked so well in its favor. In Doubt, the roots from John Patrick Shanley’s play provides us with no more than what we need to know, the time, place, and situation. It’s 1964 and virtually all of the action takes place within the stone walls of St. Nicholas, a parochial school in the Bronx where Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman), an unorthodox, forward-thinking priest, clashes with the uncompromisingly traditional Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep). When a chance arises to have him removed amid allegations of improper conduct toward a young boy, the hard-nosed nun moves forward in setting a trap.

            We never know more than any one character does at any given moment about. Doubt is true to its title, operating like a game of chess. We only see the moves, the thoughts remain internalized, as does, indeed, the truth of the allegation. In truth, Father Flynn’s guilt is less important than we may think. Sister Aloysius wants it to be true and is set on proving it. Without evidence, she only need cast enough doubt to damage the Father’s reputation irrevocably. What is less certain is how deeply she believes in her own conviction, though this too is ultimately of little consequence. She is certain of what conclusion she wants and is only concerned with railroading the parish in that direction. For all we are told, her allegations may be true and Doubt gives just enough evidence to suggest that they may not be unfounded. If we are looking for a definite answer, however, we are asking the wrong question.

            Perhaps a better question, though still not the point, is to what degree are Sister Aloysius’s and Father Flynn’s behaviors justified. The Sister is, at least superficially, confident in her righteousness. She admits to be moving “away from God, but in His service;” in other words, bringing down Father Flynn justifies her unholy method. By the end of her ordeal she will have discovered just how troubling stepping away from God is to her. She is likely being sincere when she professes to be acting with the well-being of Donald Miller (Joseph Foster), the school’s only African-American pupil whom the Father has taken under his wing. She takes her position too seriously for us to believe otherwise. But there can also be little doubt that her war against Father Flynn is personal to some degree and started even before his bond with Donald Miller. It was evident at least since the moment the film opens when the priest’s sermon on doubt arises her suspicion. Neither is a secret that she hates, or maybe fears, what he represents; progress in the Catholic Church.

            Sister Aloysius has resisted the passage of time with authoritarian rule even as the Vatican itself was pushing forward, confiscating headsets, banning cough drops (“candy by any name”), and seems to have a particularly harsh view of ballpoint pens. Father Flynn is a new type of force and, because he is her superior, she feels less capable of stopping him. Her only recourse seems to be to ruin his name. When an inappropriate relationship with Donald is suspected, she acts like the parish cat seizing the moment to pounce at the mouse. She needs for the allegation to be true and starts with convincing herself, but has little success with anyone else. The young Sister James (Amy Adams), despite bringing Father Flynn’s odd behavior to the attention of Sister Aloysius in the first place, ultimately gives the priest the benefit of the doubt. Even if Sister Aloysius dismissed Sister James as a hopelessly naïve force of benevolence incapable of seeing evil in anyone, and, indeed, her students often take advantage of her good nature, the bishop also remains unconvinced.

            And yet, Doubt never denies that there may be something to the accusations. There may not be anything wrong with Sister Aloysius’s gut feeling or even her aggressive pursuit for justice. What remains dubious are her motives if only because they are so hard to read. Just how much of it is genuinely inspired by her sense of duty and how much by fear of the wave sweeping the Vatican in the mid-20^th century? She concedes this much; she lied when trying to coerce the Father into a confession, telling him she spoke to a nun from his former parish about the circumstances behind his departure. But even here the ethics are hazy. Had Father Flynn been truly innocent, her rationale goes, He wouldn’t have reason to fear the even if he believed the lie to be true. In context it does appear as if she is rationalizing an unsporting trick, but it might be important to remember that tactics of this nature are not unheard of among law and military officials in getting to the truth. If it’s true, as she says, that Sister Aloysius’s main concern is removing a pedophile from the school, she can be justified in obtaining evidence by any means necessary. The difference in her case is not only that her reasons are ambiguous but that her idea of the truth is preordained, evidence be damned. What she truly believes is the truth is something of a mystery, maybe even to her. But she knows what she needs the truth to be.

            Even for an actress as infallible as Meryl Streep, Sister Aloysius presents a challenge. That her secret thoughts vibrate so strongly is a testament to Streep’s unique understanding of dark souls. Essentially, she delivers a performance within a performance. Sister Aloysius’s dominance over St. Nicholas is, after all, a wall constructed to keep out the progress she fears. It’s a wall that begins to slip, however, the first instance being during a particularly heated exchange with Father Flynn when the dreaded progress (represented by the priest) seems to be gaining the upper hand. Her stern chilling diction melts into the nasal Bronx dialect it shields. The frightening figure she constructed is for the first time exposed as a mere defense mechanism and we can finally understand, if not excuse, her behavior. The post-Vatican II world is as frightening to her as she is to the parish she watches over. As rigidly as she enforces her code of conduct, Sister Aloysius is herself a vulnerable human.

            Not surprisingly, Father Flynn maintains his innocence throughout and garners more support than his opponent. Donald Miller certainly appreciates him. As the only African-American in a school servicing Irish and Italian families (in the few brief scenes offering a view of the community outside the parish walls the movie has the air of a Barry Levinson nostalgia piece) and often the victim of bullying it’s not hard to understand why he welcomes Father Flynn’s friendship.

This is what must have perturbed Daniel S. Cutrara in his book Wicked Cinema: Sex and Religion on Screen when he said of the film, “When the Flynn begins to pay special attention to the only African-American boy in the school, he becomes the target of Sister Aloysius’s investigation. Flynn likens the investigation to a witch hunt that ruins careers, and the priest becomes an object of sympathy for the audience. No abuse is shown on screen, so there remains a reasonable doubt regarding Flynn’s behavior. Granted, innocent priests can become the victims of false claims, which may be how some audience members view Shanley’s character. However, at this stage of the Church’s pedophilia scandal, as the extent of a global cover-up of endemic criminal sexual activity is still being discovered, this film introduces doubt into the discourse around the Church’s culpability.”

But those that believe Father Flynn without question (and many in the audience will) are acting on wishful thinking. We want the outreach toward the child to be honest and, to be sure, for all we are shown in the film, it well may be. But the movie never allows us to rule out the other sinister possibility.

As sincere as Father Flynn seems to be in his concern for the boy, at times he appears close to crossing a line. Suspicion first starts when Donald is called into the rectory, followed by a sighting of the priest tossing the boy’s shirt into his locker. Flynn has an explanation for this, but it’s never proven. A bigger question is why Donald left the encounter looking disturbed and reeking of alcohol. The priest’s account is that he caught Donald drinking wine from the altar and agreed to cover it up fearing Donald would have to step down as an altar boy. Again, though, this account can be neither corroborated nor negated.

In addition, Father Flynn’s occasional odd behavior does his credibility no favors. His talks with the boys about personal hygiene teeters often comes a little too close for comfort and in once instant he is shown touching Donald in a way that would give one pause. Most damningly, he comes close to what could be interpreted as a confession when he tells the Sister that there are some things she can’t understand.

And yet, we want Father Flynn to be innocent. He stands, at least ostensibly, for compassion and innovation. In what is arguably his best performance, Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Father Flynn with a clear knowledge of his psyche and inner woes. He knows the truth as Shanley wrote it (and Shanley shared his own answer about the priest’s guilt with none other than the actors who took the role both on stage and screen), but never leads the audience on one way or the other, leaving Father Flynn a compelling enigma to the end. Was he a misunderstood of benevolence representing the winds of change for the Catholic Church or a disturbed pedophile with a deceiving mask of goodness? Could he also be both a forward-thinking clergyman and a criminal? If we sympathize with him, as Cutrara says the film wishes us to, our empathy stems from a distrust of Sister Aloysius’s own intentions.

There is, however, a third reason, voiced by Donald’s mother, played by Viola Davis in a breakthrough performance that can only be described as a one scene wonder. She stands by the priest because she likes what he stands for and the good it is doing to her son outweighs any less savory aspects of his behavior. Donald is a lonely, hurting boy, Mrs. Miller reminds Sister Aloysius during an intense confrontation. His lack of friends and an abusive father leave Father Flynn as the only person he can trust. Why Flynn is interested in her son is not as important to her as the end result; someone is looking out for her son. Even if the nun’s allegations are true, Mrs. Miller argues, are they worth bringing down her son’s only benefactor? By Sister Aloysius’s own admission in the final, Donald certainly didn’t think so.

Doubt is one of those movies that brings out the best in its cast because it features characters that only the best can play well. Its best moments involve the cast playing off each other in a war of ideology. Streep and Hoffman take the best approach by never saying what their characters are thinking having them arrive to their point of eruption slowly and calmly at first. Sister Aloysius’s first confrontation of Flynn starts out amicably enough discussing the year’s Christmas pageant. It’s clear from the nun’s facial signs of repressed aggression that she is luring him into a trap, like a cat offering a mouse a sense of safety before it pounces. The discussion becomes increasingly hostile as disagreement arises between the two over the inclusion of secular songs in the show. Tension keeps rising until both the nun and the priest are at each other’s throats. The accusation is never explicitly stated, but by then Father Flynn understands his opponent well enough to know what her goal is, and it was never about Christmas songs.

Equally fascinating is Mrs. Miller’s talk with Sister Aloysius, completely dominated by Viola Davis’s tour de force performance. Streep, however, also does something amazing, bringing forth a revealing new layer to Sister Aloysius. She is, at heart, a frightened woman of the old ways helpless when set against modern times (represented this time by Mrs. Miller). For the first time, Sister Aloysius realizes how truly alone she is in her struggle against modernity.

John Patrick Shanley’s work in cinema is not extensive, his greatest credit was penning Moonstruck, but his direction and script in Doubt makes a strong case for greater involvement of authors in stage to screen adaptations. None of the provocative challenges of his play are lost in the translation and the film captures the moral complexities of his work. Everything went right, though, including the assembly of a superb cast capable of handling the weight and courage of his material, as a group they make Doubt one of the best films of 2008.  Shanley even demonstrates a mastery of camera work, capturing the coldness of St. Nicolas as it contrasts with the close-knit neighborhood in the Bronx where it sits like a mysterious temple where progress has come to a halt; the perfect place for dark secrets to remain hidden within stone walls.  

CHARLIE WILSON'S WAR

When we laugh at politicians it is because the consequences of their actions often play out as farce. To us its humor, to them it’s the point of realization of how out of touch they are with the world they make decision for, a state of mind created by years of misplaced authority. All too often, though, their blunders lead to tragedy and the comedy, though not necessarily absent, becomes darker.

            Mike Nichols captures the mood whiplash that is geopolitics with expert precision in Charlie Wilson’s War (based on the book by George Crill III about the Texas Congressman that supplied the mujahideen with arms during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan) one of his best films and an often amusing expose of the hypocrisy, naivety, and lack of foresight involved in foreign policy making.

            Charlie Wilson was a singular case, however. As grave as the unintended consequences of his aid to the Afghan rebels proved to be, they were at least equally the fault of the US government as a whole. Wilson himself, and this is a trait highlighted by the mere casting of Tom Hanks, was the classic liberal idealist of the transitory years from Carter to Reagan, holding the social victories of the past two decades under his belt as personal triumphs.

            But, like many revolutionaries of the 60s, Wilson found new interest in the early 80s, namely women, booze, and (a carry-over) drugs. Wilson helped open many doors for women in the professional world…and then hired the curviest of them as his personal secretaries. Nichols, obviously, has fun with this and loves exploring his office and the busy bombshells within. Outside of his connection with Israel, the real Charlie Wilson was relatively aloof about foreign affairs, more at home in a hot tub in Vegas than the United Nations. He only paid attention to the Soviet-Afghan conflict when a woman became involved.

            Wilson stresses that Joanne Herring (Julia Roberts) is only a “friend with money” but even a brief observation of their interactions leaves little doubt that what the eccentric Texan socialite meant to Good Time Charlie. Played by Julia Roberts as a socialite who, even as she ages, never loses sexual prowess as a resource, Herring knows her way around Charlie and can talk him into anything. After a meeting, she has him meeting Pakistani President Zia-ul-Haq (Om Puri), who offers Wilson all the evidence necessary for the need of US support in the war against the Soviets when he takes him to a camp in a remote area of Pakistan in which maimed Afghan refugees have fled.

            The real Charlie Wilson was a complex figure and remains so after his death, but the movie, rightfully, remains ambiguous about his motivation in aiding Afghani freedom fighters. The children with missing limbs, the starved crowds surrounding a food truck, and the other shocking sights of the camp get to him and his sympathy is, as far as Nichols is concerned at least, genuine. This is the pivotal scene to understanding the movie, in fact. However disastrous the chain of events that he set in motion his commitment to raising funds for the Afghani resistance was based on noble intentions.  

            That is the fundamental uniqueness of Charlie Wilson; there was no motivation beyond his sense of duty. In Washington he garnered financial support for Operation Cyclone with relative ease (his bragging point was how easily he helped grow the CIA’s anti-communist budget from $5 million to $500 million) and temporarily united Israel, Pakistan, and Egypt. His supportive players, however, were less than altruistic. The CIA saw this as one of the ongoing battles of the Cold War and the other nations with which we joined forces found it advantageous to put aside their differences in battling a common enemy.

            As historian Michael Johns, one of the conservative pundits supportive of the film, points out in his blog, “As the film correctly depicts, Wilson experienced surprising success in his somewhat rogue effort to substantially increase covert CIA-channeled U.S. aid to the mujahideen, and the results were ultimately nothing short of remarkable, with the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan turning into Moscow's Vietnam. The mujahideen proved hugely heroic fighters. With the aid of U.S.-supplied Stinger anti-aircraft missiles, Soviet MIG and other fighter jets were routinely shot from the sky. Charlie Wilson's War tells this story and, in so doing, provides a fairly new and important context on what was undeniably one of the single greatest contributing factors to the ultimate collapse of global communism. Afghanistan, quite simply, proved for the first time that, with determination and support, the Soviet Union's conquests were reversible. The global significance of this message surely ranks among the most important of the 20th century.”

            In a place like Washington where decisions are all too often based on greed and gain, the lack of self-interest (other than disdain for commies) and immediate accomplishments of Charlie Wilson are admirable. And yet, as we know all too well, the long-term consequences of his work were catastrophic. Wilson may have acted on principle (according to the movie, seeing children with severed limbs was all the push he needed), but the same could not be said of his government. With the Soviet retreat and the threat of communism over, the United States had little interest in rebuilding Afghanistan. With no infrastructure, the country fell into the hands of insurgents and extremists who found a new use for the weapons the United States had provided them.

            In his often overstated attack on the film (mostly because it slights Reagan and CIA director Bill Casey), right-wing author Paul Kengor argues, “For the Reagan administration, the Soviet defeat in Afghanistan was part of a multi-layered assault-involving about a dozen different initiatives, from Poland to Nicaragua, from SDI to the MX, from economic warfare to public diplomacy-to take down the Soviet empire and win the Cold War.” With that mission accomplished, Afghanistan was easily forgotten.

            If Wilson was blind to the long-term implications at first (and it was more understandable in 1989 than today, when recent events have made us forget the extent of the brutality suffered by the people of Afghanistan under the Soviet occupation, to celebrate their claim as the first country to defeat the Soviet empire), he was at least astute enough to take seriously the warning of CIA Officer Gust Avrakotos (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman with awesome ferocity), who foresaw what Afghanistan would become if left abandoned. But Wilson’s please for funding to rebuild the country’s infrastructure fell on deaf ears. The government, as it often is, was easily swayed the raise large sums for wars but not for amendments. Of course, this was behavior was repeated by the other nations that helped. With the communist threat vanquished, the United States, Israel, and Egypt had little interest in Afghanistan. Their business there was done. Left on their own devices, the people of Afghanistan inevitably turned to extremist groups, with a sense of resentment for the nations that betrayed them. Through no fault of his own, Charlie Wilson’s war set us on the road to 9/11. The attacks of 2001 are never explicitly mentioned in the film, but Nichols gives us an honest and clear view of how we got to where we stand today.

            While begrudging the link associated with Wilson’s (Reagan approved) empowerment of the mujahideen and the rise of al-Qaeda, Johns does concede that, “The ultimate retreat of the Soviet army from Afghanistan should have opened a promising future for the newly-freed nation, but it was not exactly followed by the emergence of liberal democracy. Unable to maintain a consensus for some continued nation-building following the Soviets' nine-year occupation, as advocated by most of the Reagan army of mujahideen supporters, the Taliban ultimately arose to fill the power vacuum left by the Soviets, making Afghanistan the breeding ground for al-Qaeda training and leading to what has become this nation's current conflict against global terrorism.”

            One of the most important things Charlie Wilson’s War does is expose to Western eyes the extent of the brutality the Afghani people suffered under Soviet rule. Women and children, today the shields of choice for insurgents, were also frequent victims of enemy forces; the ultimate joke of the movie is their liberation from one set of oppressors only to fall into the hands of another.

            Johns also brought this to attention, “Soviet forces indiscriminately bombed civilians. They blew the hands off children with explosives designed to look like toys. They torched entire caves of scared civilians. What was the human cost of the Soviet invasion and occupation of Afghanistan? Some two million civilians were killed, and five million more fled the Soviet occupation. If there exists any modern example of "scorched earth" military tactics and institutionalized evil in practice, it can be found in what Soviet troops did in Afghanistan from 1979 until 1989.”

            Paradoxically, the horrors shown in the film are minimal; just enough to make a point, but the nuanced brutality comes as a shock precisely because of the satirical material that surrounds it. This is really a subtle comment on the media’s treatment of world affairs, and its habit of packaging it around whimsy to lessen the blow. It becomes a pointed criticism within the movie when Wilson’s aids use the inconsequential story of his drug and prostitution scandal to bury his covert raising of funds for the Afghan cause.

            Johns writes, “In its effort to tell a hugely serious story, it [the film] predictably includes enough comedic relief for mass appeal. But it is the thesis of this film--that there exists an undeniable correlation between the ultimate victory of the United States-supported resistance in Afghanistan, known as the mujahideen, in their war against the Soviet Union's invasion and occupation of Afghanistan--that makes this film a hugely important leap in greater understanding of the truth behind the late 20th century American-led effort, under Ronald Reagan's Presidency, to win the Cold War, liberate millions, and usher in the great hope of peace and freedom that exists in our current post-Cold War world.”

            On its own, the humor in Charlie Wilson’s War is charming and at times even poignant. As always, Mike Nichols proves adept at understanding human quirks. The real Charlie Wilson was more of a bulldog, as one who enjoyed such popularity in his native Texas would have to be, than anyone played by Tom Hanks could ever be, but Hanks can bring out the sensitivity in even the most hardened of warriors. He captures a vulnerability in the Charlie Wilson that may never have been seen in public but had to have been in someone who trusted his ethical convictions so firmly. His Wilson is, at least at heart, a hero and Hanks emits this so clearly we forgive the congressman his vices, sexual games, and political tricks. Because he is played by Hanks we don’t doubt he means well and emerges as an improbable hero, seemingly too human (with all of our defects) to have set such a historical catalyst in motion.

            Even when Nichols is getting laughs, however, the film inexplicably veers toward heart. He has a dream cast that does wonders with the film’s many faces. Julia Roberts is cast interestingly against type as Joanne Herring, the aging socialite with plenty of money to spend on political interests, and brings the character close to parody. Herring, as Roberts plays her, was a shrewd political motivator who could still use sex as a tool to getting her way as she approached her fiftieth year. Nichols, of course, uses the appeal of Roberts to advantage letting a shot of her in a swimsuit playout for all its worth, but it never feels gratuitous. Herring knows she has aged gracefully and has both money and sex to offer. Wilson may have made his own mind about the war but would not have set foot in Pakistan had she not had him wrapped around her finger like one of her sparking diamonds.

            What exactly is her interest in Afghanistan? Wilson believes she is fighting for the oppressed women of Afghanistan and public information about the real Herring suggests this is largely true, however, we must not forget, if only for the purpose of this movie, that these are the words of a smitten man, led to believe them by a seductress. At least as important to Herring is maintaining a good relationship with Zia-ul-Haq, for whom she had been a trusted advisor. Wilson knows she will never be more to him than a “friend with money” and yet there is something touching about how the two reflect on a partnership that created good things, if only for a while. Especially emotive is her reaction to his tribute in the frame story set a few years after the Soviet retreat. How exactly does she feel about the man she used to make history? It is not impossible that love of a certain sort exists there.

            Charlie Wilson’s War is a triumphant actor’s film. Philip Seymour Hoffman provides both the spark and mind of the film. He rivets the movie each time he opens his mouth especially because we have seen Avrakotos proven right. Bonnie Bach, Wilson’s mousey secretary, proves to be the quintessential Amy Adams role; seemingly timid but with a surprising amount of pep when needed.

            The political landscape is often the perfect stage for laughter while the world it affects can often bring tears and shock, but even hear Nichols finds humor in the eccentricities of world leaders and Wilson’s meetings with both Zia-ul-Haq and Israel’s Zvi Rafiah (Ken Stott) are political lampooning at its finest. On their own, the two sequences are comic marvels. Charlie Wilson’s War is a film by a director who knows the ways of the crazy world we live in, where the best way not to cry in it is to laugh with it.