Doubt: Critic Reviews

Doubt, fussily overdirected by its author, John Patrick Shanley, dulls the play's own sharp inquiries into the dangerous power of those who profess certainty with God on their side.

The air is thick with paranoia in Doubt, but nowhere as thick, juicy, sustained or sustaining as Meryl Streep's performance.

Doubt looks like some sort of upscale horror film, complete with crows and swirling leaves like The Omen. It's actually a terminally muddled piece of star-studded Oscar-bait.

Doubt strikes a deeper chill in our hearts than the creepiest thriller.

A taut, high-stakes game of cat-and-mouse drives the absorbing psychological thriller Doubt.

As a consideration of faith and propriety, the movie never managed to boil my blood or break my heart.

Shanley paints a shaded picture where even a final, spontaneous act of contrition contains multitudes of meaning.

The movie is a mystery tour of human motives, and a cautionary tale about the dangers of being sure.

Doubt asks hard questions, and we dutifully squirm in reply.

This is a film bound to provoke differing interpretations and lively conversation at the cafe or in the car after it's over. A movie that's rewarding to think and talk about: That's the nicest Christmas present you can give a moviegoer.

Doubt is a missed opportunity, all the way through to its final scene, which isn't nearly the statement it might have been.

In the midst of a cast that should have wowed more, in the midst of a film that could have rattled more, Davis' sorrow upends all.

John Patrick Shanley's film of his every-award-under-God-winning play Doubt is a heavy slab of dramaturgy, dark-toned and somber, yet intense as hell.

If only Doubt had been made in 1964, shot by Roger Corman over a long weekend, and retitled Spawn of the Devil Witch or Blood Wimple, all would have been forgiven.

Doubt has exact and merciless writing, powerful performances and timeless relevance. It causes us to start thinking with the first shot, and we never stop. Think how rare that is in a film.

Shanley has adapted, slightly expanded and directed his play for the screen, and while it helps to enjoy the old-school dramaturgy and knowing theatrical craftsmanship of the piece, I'm probably not alone in my surprise at how well the results work on scr

Streep and Hoffman are pitch-perfect, and Amy Adams is also superb as a young nun caught up in the conflict.

For all its high-caliber performances, its cutting dissection of the roles of men and women within the Catholic hierarchy, and its timely resonance in the wake of the church's sexual abuse scandals, there's something pat and tidy about Doubt.

While the Streep-Hoffman death match is the film's dramatic high point, its success lies in its defiant refusal to trot out even a slightly satisfying answer to the question: Did he or didn't he?

John Patrick Shanley the writer should never again hire John Patrick Shanley the director.

Doubt, John Patrick Shanley's film adaptation of his acclaimed Pulitzer Prize-winning play, is a showcase for actors -- and it never lets you forget it.

John Patrick Shanley's Doubt left me less moved than querulously dissatisfied despite the impressive performances of Meryl Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, and Viola Davis in all the key roles.

The crisis of faith faced by everyone in Doubt raises the biggest doubt of all.

Meryl Streep is frighteningly good as Sister Aloysius, the fire-breathing principal of a 1964 Bronx parochial school in John Patrick Shanley's powerful but stagy Doubt.

Thanks to a nearly perfect cast, this provocative glimpse into the Catholic priest child-molestation scandal manages to be deeply disturbing on several levels.