In the opening lines of John Patrick Shanley’s Doubt, A Parable, a Catholic priest delivers a sermon on the one-year anniversary of J.F.K.’s assassination. Reflecting on the tremendous loss that the entire country was emotionally rocked by, and then revels in the power of such a cataclysm to bring people from all backgrounds together in unity. His message is not that single-mindedness delivers comfort, but rather that such tragedy can unite Americans in a communal doubt—an uncertainty for the future, both as fear and opportunity to build back better.
The play, while set firmly in 1964, has always served as an annoyingly appropriate reflection of our flaws and systemic toxicity, no matter when it is on stage. First performed two years after the Spotlight investigation into the Boston archdiocese for child abuse, the Bronx-set tale had a singular launching pad for tackling the church, its ability to cover up its sin, shuffle the sinners, and keep the work of the Lord flowing without interruption.
But as the A Parable part of the title insists, our antagonist here is truly a man for all seasons. Staged in 2025 against a backdrop of abusive men in positions of power covering for other abusive men in positions of power, all overseen by doddering and disconnected leaders, the themes once again mold to a new, forever unshakable shape.
Doubt takes place in St. Nicholas Church School, where Father Flynn oversees the sermons and the school and takes an active hand in the lives and struggles of those around him. He’s a new kind of priest—progressive by the standards of the time, and toeing the line of offending his parishioners by chasing secular Christmas songs and delicately considering the optics of the school’s first Black student. He’s a Cool Preist who spends time coaching the basketball team and engaging those around him in unsettlingly direct conversation—with a knowing smirk and an earned confidence that pulls everyone into his orbit.
While the Father revels in the limelight of the pulpit and the schoolyard, the school’s principal (Sister Aloysius) brings a rigidly conservative bent to the practices of the academy from her office deep in the catacombs. Her latest addition to the staff, Sister James, is an exuberant, wide-eyed teacher dripping with enthusiasm for every student and every subject. Alyosius’ view on life has been worn down to a hard pragmatism that clashes with the young nun’s total existence. Chastized for everything from caring about the subject of history too deeply to worrying about the spontaneous nosebleed of a child, James is picked apart by Aloysius from the outset.
This includes one of my all-time favorite theater exchanges, where Aloysius proclaims, “Innocense is a form of laziness.” From the outset, we can gather the degree to which her faith—an Old Testament outlook—is digging in even further against the backdrop of progress and energy in the mid-‘60s.
KCAT’s Doubt. // Photo by Brian Paulette
Beneath the personality and philosophical clashes of principal and priest, lies the barely hidden secret that Aloysius suspects Father Flynn has carried out inappropriate relationships with the young boys of the church and school. Her dedication to this suspicion seems born of nothing, but as the play continues forward, more and more gray area emerges—hints of possibilities of spaces where a man could get away with whatever he wanted. Lacking any checks and balances in the church above Flynn to share her suspicions with, Aloysius drags James, Flynn, and a young boy’s mother into her tide of unquenchable justice.
KCAT’s production features a strong cast, whose personalities keep a relatively slow script pushing forward at an impressive pace. Flynn is unquestionably charming, James bubbles and blooms no matter how much darkness looms, and Mrs. Muller (the kid’s mother) demands the respect and submission of anyone who stands in her way.
It is Aloysius alone who plays everything small but steadfast—the strongest acolyte amidst a circle of personalities.
The timing of the show falls into a strange political moment. At other productions I’ve attended over the years, it’s always seemed that Aloysius’ investigation was a true, noble calling, beset by personal stumbles, a thickness, and no small amount of pre-defeat when viewed against the unbreakable structures of power so hopes to strike—true David vs. Goliath. KCAT’s show seems to lean in on the degree to which this nun is truly pursuing a witchhunt. This is a man she is determined to see fall, no matter what, based on an inkling (earned over time) that this is all true. Any means to the end, she will pursue, even when Flynn tries to carrot and stick his way out of his enemy.
It’s a great problem for Doubt to have: is personal certainty fallible? What do we truly owe to each other and what laws must we share? Are inflexible, rigid ethics worth it in a world where the outcome may provide more net pain than gain?
Since its announcement last year, I’ve been waiting to see this show from a theater group I trust, with the promise of staging Doubt in a church. In my head, I pictured something a bit more heretical, a bit more bite towards the religious structure that birthed these issues, and a reckoning performed on said consecrated ground. Unfortunately, the central sell of this staging comes off less biting and more like a gimmick than I believe anyone involved intended.
United Church of Christ, where we set our scene, is obviously not a Catholic Church. Sure, a production of Doubt would never happen there. But it is a church with giant banners that say “All Are Welcome” flanking the pulpit, and there are stickers on the bathrooms sharings the building’s policy on inclusive restrooms. Even the accent lighting above the stage is the color of the Pride flag. This is a space where (complimentary) this show is preaching to the choir. It’s a good thing, but the concept of staging this show in this space doesn’t provide the challenge of belief that you might expect from the idea’s pitch.
To be clear, it rules that this church is so welcoming. It rules that they wanted to stage the show here.
Disappointingly, the space simply provides an oddly uncomfortable manner of presenting the show. Sure, it is cool to hear Flynn deliver a sermon from the space where thousands of real sermons have been delivered before. But in terms of staging, movement, and transitions, the various scenes and locations wind up coming off awkward as the actors try to avoid interacting with the pews and other furniture in their way. Additionally, there is no stage lighting for this production. There’s a production team member at the back of the house who can flick a few light switches to make the light in the room bright, or apparently even brighter, but not as dark as you might even expect from an evening worship service. When the lights never really go down, and can’t be used to shape individual spaces like the Sister’s office, it adds the clunkiness of the audience’s ability to put themselves in a place that isn’t just… in a large place of worship where immersion takes a backseat to the concept of location.
This, I recognize, sounds like a long diatribe about the minutiae around a stellar set of performances. I’m trying to dig into the heart of what holds the show back from being great, and the truth is that it would’ve been a much better production—for both cast and audience—if they’d run it on KCAT’s home stage. The trade-off of losing lighting, scenery that is more impediment than improvement, and audio that occasionally trails off in the cavernous space… It was a really interesting idea, but I have such doubts regarding whether this was the best choice. At worst, I will probably never see this show staged inside a church again, and the concept will always stick with me. I’m glad I got a chance to witness it, and I’d see the same cast do it again next week or anytime after, if the production had production worthy of the production.
Doubt, A Parable stars Kathleen Warfel as Sister Aloysius Beauvier (KCAT’s Four Children, My Old Lady, Picnic, and more) and Matt Schwader as Father Brendan Flynn (KCAT’s And Then There Were None, director of The Pests), and featuring Christina Schafer as Sister James (KCAT’s Little Women, The Pests, A Lie of the Mind) and Teisha M. Bankston as Mrs. Muller (KCAT’s Little Women, Spider’s Web, co-director of Trouble in Mind). Directed by Gary Heisserer (KCAT’s About Alice, “Master Harold… And the Boys).