Review: Doubt: A Parable at the Roslyn Packer Theatre

Review by Carly Fisher

There are productions that entertain, productions that challenge and productions that prove some works only get better with age and the masterful team behind Sydney Theatre Company’s Doubt: A Parable has successfully achieved all three. 

Rightly so, this production has already been heralded by other reviewers as STC’s new ‘masterpiece,’ a credit it is truly deserving of. Under the assured direction of Marion Potts, every element of the production works in complete harmony. Bob Cousins' production design is extraordinary, establishing a world of cathedral-like grandeur that is both beautiful and imposing. The scale of the set reinforces the weight of authority, faith and institutional power, becoming as much a character in the play as those who inhabit it. Damien Cooper's lighting sculpts the vastness of the space with remarkable subtlety, while Jessica Dunn's composition and sound design deepen the atmosphere without ever overwhelming the performances. Together, the creative team has crafted a production of immense sophistication, proving that restraint, when executed this masterfully, can be every bit as breathtaking as spectacle.

Set within a Catholic school in the Bronx in 1964, Doubt: A Parable asks audiences to wrestle with certainty, morality and institutional power. It has long been regarded as a play that refuses definitive answers, inviting its audience to sit in ambiguity rather than resolve it.

Yet more than 20 years after it was penned, does the ‘doubt’ still sit where it was perhaps initially intended? 

One could argue that in early productions, the central uncertainty arguably lay in whether a respected man of the cloth could be capable of such wrongdoing, and whether anyone had the right to challenge the moral authority of the Church. But history has intervened. In 2026, our relationship with institutions, power and accountability is profoundly different. Watching this production, I found that I never doubted Father Flynn in the way the play once invited audiences to. Instead, I found myself doubting whether enough was being done. 

It is a credit to the mastery of John Patrick Shanley’s script that without a single word having changed in the script’s over 20 year journey, the context and the placement of doubt could shift so dramatically. This is a prime example of a piece of art that can act as a mirror to the world around it and its ever-changing context. 

Rather than being a story about uncertainty surrounding guilt or innocence, Doubt is a meditation on the burden of responsibility. The ambiguity no longer rests with the accused—it rests with those forced to act despite never possessing complete certainty. That is where Marion Potts' magnificent production becomes so fascinating. Whether intentionally or not, it exposes how enduring works of theatre evolve as audiences evolve.

At the heart of the production is Pamela Rabe, delivering a defining performance as only she can. Her Sister Aloysius is a masterclass in precision and restraint. Every movement is economical, every silence deliberate, every glance infused with meaning. Few actors possess Rabe's ability to command the stage and engross the audience as she does in every character she takes to. The power of this character lies in Rabe’s control - Sister Aloysius requires no flourish or fanfare, her wit is sharp and her conviction is assured throughout. 

The play is only a four hander - the rest of the school, including all of its students, are discussed but not seen and yet many are quite detailed and realised characters. Opening the show, Sam Reid as Father Flynn is commanding, bringing a warmth and charm to the character that makes him both instantly likeable and somewhat untrustworthy in equal measures. The opening monologue, delivered as a sermon, offers a parable that essentially instructs us on how to engage with the story. Do not trust but do not assume, and more than anything, try not to draw immediate conclusions. Again, this last part perhaps is more of a challenge now, in 2026, than it was when written, but in the extremely capable hands of Reid, we, as the audience, are guided expertly.

Zindzi Okenyo delivers an emotionally charged, somewhat devastating, Mrs Muller, making her appearance resonate far beyond her time on stage. Okenyo is absolutely commanding balancing pride, power and heart with assurance and offering her character the emotional complexity required to really leave an impact on the audience. 

Shannen Alyce Quan's Sister James becomes the audience's moral compass, embodying the uncertainty that gives the play its title. Though portrayed with innocence, Quan ensures that Sister James is given the backbone that she deserves and navigates this duality of naivety and self-assurance with aplomb.  

It is ensemble acting of the highest order - generous, disciplined and completely captivating.

Ironically, my only reservation emerged because the production had so successfully convinced me of Sister Aloysius' certainty. The play's closing line has traditionally been interpreted as revealing doubt about Father Flynn's guilt or innocence. Yet after watching Rabe construct a woman whose conviction never once appeared to falter, I found myself resisting that questioning. For me, the more powerful interpretation is not that she doubts whether he was guilty, but that she doubts whether she herself did enough. This allows the production to preserve the integrity of the character while acknowledging the unbearable weight carried by those who choose to act. In today's world, that feels like the more urgent question.

It is also testament to the production's strength that it prompted such reflection. Great theatre does not simply revive a classic; it reframes it. It reveals meanings that perhaps were always present, waiting for history to catch up.

Don’t let the marketing material fool you - this is not a period piece. It is timely, relevant and surprisingly humorous. It is important, not because it asks the same questions that it did in 2004, but because it challenges us as an audience to ask entirely new ones. 

Doubt: A Parable is intellectually rigorous, visually stunning and charged by artists working at the absolute peak of their craft. Flawless. Unmissable. 

Image Credit: Prudence Upton