Beyond reasonable

Doubt: A Parable may be one of the most tightly crafted and purposeful plays you will have the opportunity to see. A small, quiet play, it features an efficient, whip-smart script by John Patrick Shanley, for which he won a Pulitzer Prize. Brüka Theatre and director Sandra Brunell Neace have taken this lean, mean machine of a play and wrapped it up in a near-perfect package of minimalism, elegance and brilliantly understated performances.

Doubt debuted off Broadway in 2004 in the wake of the Catholic Church’s sex-abuse scandal. While it’s set 40 years earlier, it plays on the same anxieties to which the public grew accustomed this century.

Sister Aloysius (Moira Bengochea) is the hard-edged principal of a Catholic school, and Sister James (Stacy Johnson) is a young teacher whose enthusiasm irks Aloysius. We quickly learn that an awful lot of things irk her, including her superior, Father Flynn (Adam Neace). In a development that feels sadly familiar, Aloysius is particularly concerned about Flynn’s relationship with a new student. Aloysius, the consummate severe authoritarian, would seem fanatical if she weren’t so self-possessed.

We’re introduced to Flynn in the form of a sermon about the play’s titular mental state. The sermon, praising the humanity and virtue of doubting, is delivered as though the audience were the congregation. This would feel too on the nose if it weren’t so perfectly written and so deftly handled by Adam Neace. Throughout, Neace plays things expertly close to the vest. He’s an appealing contrast to Aloysius: warm, progressive, tolerant—yet maybe there’s something off about him. Or maybe that’s Aloysius getting into our heads.

Given the widespread real life accusations against the Catholic Church, it’s all too easy to get behind Aloysius’ railroading of Father Flynn. While this preconception is Shanley’s trump card, reducing the play to cultural commentary would be selling it short. Doubt concerns itself with the concept of uncertainty. Sister Aloysius has none, and it’s an almost enviable thing to behold. Sister James, functioning as a stand-in for the audience, wishes she were more like Aloysius, so secure in her ironclad certainty. Aloysius knows Flynn is deviant like she knows that “Frosty the Snowman” is paganism at its most insidious. Viewers may side with her simply because her will is so strong. When Flynn is onstage, though, the viewer’s conviction can falter even though Aloysius’ never does.

This is the genius of Shanley’s play: It doesn’t want you to know the answers. The text gives you just enough to form an opinion, then just enough more to doubt yourself, and so forth. It’s a master class in audience manipulation in the best way.

Sandra Brunell Neace deserves a huge measure of credit for the production’s success. As good as Shanley’s play is, it could easily devolve into a hackneyed cat-and-mouse tale if not handled properly. Likewise, the four cast members play their parts meticulously, with nary a misstep. In particular, the quality of Bengochea’s performance as Aloysius cannot be overstated. Her lines come with precision and force. She is a true pleasure to watch, and when her humanity ultimately comes through, it is chill-inducing.

Early on, Aloysius tells Sister James that God gave her a heart and a brain. The heart can be warm, she says, but the wit must be cold. Aloysius naturally embodies this, but the real coup is how Doubt itself embodies it. The viewer might be inclined to play detective because of the natural tendency to “have to know,” but this Swiss watch of a play challenges that tendency, and illustrates how our dogged pursuit of certainty sometimes clouds the truth.