Doubt is one of those movies that’s all about the performances, and seeing as how it’s adapted from a Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning play, it’s no wonder. The entirety of the film builds towards a confrontation between the doubting nun played by Meryl Streep and the accused priest played by Philip Seymour Hoffman. Both actors are beyond excellent and worthy of their own award consideration, and the subject matter his hot-button and well-presented. But as a film, I found Doubt kind of static, which translated into a state, for me, where in I wasn’t terribly involved in the action. Call it an observer effect.

Taking place in 1964, the film follows three characters at a Catholic school in the Bronx. Sister James (Amy Adams) is an eighth grade teacher that begins to note something off in one of her students, one Donald Miller (Joseph Foster). Donald happens to be the first and only black student at the St. Nicholas School, but the boy has something of a guardian angel in the parish priest, Father Flynn (Hoffman). The school’s principal, Sister Aloysius (Streep), sees something more in Flynn’s protection of the boy, and after a sermon on doubt, she begins to suspect that the Father is hiding a despicable secret and dedicates herself to uncovering it whether it exists or not.

Yes, the actors are marvellous. Streep has such a commanding presence you’re practically swept up in her certainty even though that’s all the proof she really has. But her conviction is powerful, and Sister Aloysius is one of those nuns that kids hate because of her old school authoritarianism, but thinking back later rationally they realize that they learned a great deal about discipline from her. Hearing Sister Aloysius talk about how if “Frosty the Snowman” had a more sombre, people would realize how insidious it is can make you laugh, but its part of the second layer to the argument: modernization versus tradition.

And those themes tie into the main plot nicely. Father Flynn wants to put a friendlier face on the church, make the parishioners feel like the church “is part of their family.” Such a notion is beyond Aloysius’ understanding of what the church is supposed to be and talk like Flynn’s is exactly the problem because the institution is getting further away from her ideal. One’s meant to wonder if the Sister’s persecution complex has more to do with Flynn’s be cool approach to worship than it does with any real deeply held belief he’s taking advantage of a boy in need of extra attention. Writer/Director John Patrick Shanley, who’s adapting his own play, of course leaves the truth ambiguous.

But perhaps he leaves it too ambiguous. What drives Sister Aloysius in her pursuit of Father Flynn’s head? Is it just the possibility of impropriety (to put things delicately) or is it more of a conflict between representatives of drastically different approaches to faith? Doubt is infuriatingly non-specific with details, and while that’s probably the point, I could have used more on motivation. And Sister James I thought could have been drawn out more as she swings from a wild-eyed naiveté to a sharp-eyed suspicion maker dutifully following the lead of Aloysius and back again. She’s the character you’re supposed to see the film through – unwilling to believe, but trapped in the circumstantial evidence and the power of your mentor’s conviction – but there seems to be not much doubt in the most objective of the triad in the film.

And Sister Aloysius’ final repose is somewhat less than believable given the fire she brings through the first hour and a half. Doubt is not so much about “doubt” as it is about the precarious state of knowing without proof. Is this some sort of wicked jab at religion, or simply a commentary about the fact the news has us looking for paedophilic priests under every pew and pulpit? Basically, I don’t think the film achieves what it sets out to achieve thematically, but the performances are stunning enough to enjoy on their own merits.