Doubt, post-watching thoughts

Braved the bitter cold, wind, and snowfall to see this a couple hours ago, and well worth the frosted eyebrows and chills I entered the Clearview Cinemas with, no question.

My roommate bought Rock Band 2 last night, and I've already been bitten. Infected with the drummer-jones, and Modest Mouse's "Float On" is a-callin' me (one thing I'm noticing about Rock Band---it's making me love some rock tunes I never paid much mind to. "Float On" jams!). So I'm keeping this one short and sweet.

Acting all across the board here, superb. Meryl Streep is the most stone-cold, immovable hardass of a nun you could ever imagine, and she plays it without a flinch nor waver of vulnerability. And its really something else, though to be expected from the greatest actress alive. Bar none.


She's not one to be fucked with, I assure you.

Then you have quite-possibly my favorite natural screen-presence in the game, Philip Seymour Hoffman, finally playing somebody who you're genuinely rooting for (most of the time), as opposed to somber Debbie-downers (Synecdoche, New York) or plain-old scoundrels (Before the Devil Knows You're Dead), and he's as wonderful as ever. Toss in some cute-as-a-doll and talented-as-hell Amy Adams, giving her innocent and painfully-optimistic young nun such a defeated, overwhelmed air of hurt and anxiety over the crumbling of her once all-holy world that you're feeling for her without even realizing it.



***Worth noting: Philip Seymour Hoffman is in two of my fave films of '08: Synecdoche, New York, and now Doubt. Hell of a calendar, good sir. Oh, and I actually sat next to him at one point, too, which was pretty cool. It was at an early Tropic Thunder screening, with Larry David nearby our row. Awesome, obviously.

And, it must be said, hats all-the-way off for Doubt's Viola Davis, an actress I'd known nothing about 'til Doubt, who floored me in her one-off scene against Streep's character. Davis pops up as the mother of a Catholic-private-grade-school's lone Black student, who Streep suspects is having an indecent relationship with Hoffman's likeable priest. And Streep will stop at nada to expose, and ultimately send Hoffman packing in shame. As the mentally-battered mother, Davis brings the house down to bits, concealing levels of pain and fear for her son's well-being that constantly tear through her teary eyes, and quivering lips. A brief performance, but one that damn well better be nominated for some awards, if not winning a few, to boot.


Viola Davis....claps all around.

Acting aside, the thing that most impressed me about Doubt was the lack of explanation. The lines of truth and deserved-guilt are all blurred, leaving answers undiscovered, and it's such a brave and well-handled choice by writer-director John Patrick Shanley, who has adapted his popular stage-play here. Some people hate it when left to decide for themselves what they've just seen, but not I, says me-fly. That's the first key ingredient for film's longevity, to me, and a true sign of one I'll want to watch over and over again. The central message here, though, is pretty easy to gather: the old/established/content unable and unwilling to adapt/progress with the new, and going to whatever lengths to prevent any and all change.

It's one of those projects where all the dots seem to connect where needed, while the gloss and sheen are abandoned for raw performances and straightforward direction. Which is the exact opposite of the new Will Smith effort Seven Pounds, a flick I saw earlier today (and will discuss in its own capacity soon). With Seven Pounds, a totally over-the-top conceit unfortunately drowns out a pretty-great performance from my should-be-squeeze Rosario Dawson and left me thinking, "Talk about beating your 'importance' and 'depth' over viewers' heads." Sheesh, man. That's O-2 for Smith this year, following the fucking-horrendous Hancock. Tisk tisk. But saving more on that for later...

So yeah, many kudos for Doubt. I haven't stopped thinking about the film since it ended, especially after a finale that brought on some devastating and unexpected twists and character-arch shifts. The mark of a great film for me is how long it sticks with me, rather than the first-impression. Take The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, for example---a flick I really liked upon viewing, but one that soon disappeared from my thoughts, much to my surprise, and dismay, honestly. Ben Button is one I've wanted to adore all year long. Who'd have thought that little old Doubt would knock me out harder, huh?

It's been a crazy year at the movies like that. What can I say?

***Also worth noting: Doubt hit home in some ways. Some may recall my long, angry, drunken "Captain Save-A-Hoe" rant here, which I eventually took down in an act of "wash my hands and mind of it" discretion. But the events that went down that night with Sir Save-A-Hoe played out in a fashion somewhat-akin to the Streep/Hoffman dynamic in thhis film. Interesting, to say the least.