The subtext of John Patrick Shanley's set-in-1964 written-in-2004 "parable" changes over the years—from suspicions of priestly sexual abuse, to the ecclesiastical subordination of women, to post-Vatican II teaching methods. Never before, however, has the underlying theme of power's intrinsically corruptive influence been more apparent than in this Gift Theater production, relocated from its remote storefront to the lakefront. Despite the visual diversion of medieval-era churchly garb (including a surplice concealing Father Flynn's wheelchair), there's no mistaking its dramatic question revolving on the dubious ethics of machiavellian casuistry employed in service of righteous outrage. This is a lot of analogy to fall on the shoulders of only four actors—one of them recovering from an illness mandating a script-in-hand at the opening performance—but the cloistered atmosphere provided by alley staging in the studio tucked in behind Steppenwolf's sumptuous Front Bar keeps us always aware of the physical, as well as psychological, dynamics under scrutiny as our opponents vie for our attention, sympathy and, ultimately, our belief. While uncertainty has always been a component in the human condition, our own current history renders it high time that the generation claiming the moral high ground since its youth re-examine its moral compass as well, lest its methods render it as blind and bigoted as those it once vowed to replace.
