Have you ever watched a trailer and seen one moment or two that, even though the project intrigued you, nonetheless gave you pause? That’s how I felt watching the trailer for Doubt.

Philip Seymour Hoffman screams at Meryl Streep, “you have no right to act on your own. You have no right!” Streep responds, “I will do what needs to be done. You should understand that, or you will mistake me.”

This kind of over-emoting that draws a certain kind of attention, namely that serious actors are doing serious performances in a serious film. And wouldn’t you know, it just happens to be awards season, where such performances are often unfairly recognized.

This isn’t to say Doubt, adapted from the Pulitzer prize-winning stage play, is a failure. Often, the film succeeds by escalating tension and drawing strong performances from its lead actors. But the positives are minimized when the actors and filmmakers betray the core emotions of the story to unnecessarily juice it up.

The story takes place in 1964, at St. Nicholas Church School in the Bronx. Among the superiors at this institution, conflicting forces are at work. In this corner, we have Sister Aloysius Beauvier (Meryl Streep). She’s cut from the classic tyrannical superior mold, as she frowns upon insubordination of any kind. Think of her as Sister Ratched, always wanting things done her way (the film makes a point of Aloysius not even tolerating a window being open a tiny bit, as this happens multiple times). She’s given a token gesture to prove she’s not completely heartless, looking out for a sister who’s almost blind. But by and large, she rules with an iron fist.

In the other corner, we have Father Brendan Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman). While still an authoritative figure, he believes the church should change its approach toward interacting with its students. He believes they should be more like a family, and make an effort to truly listen to the children with any problems they have. He recognizes that Aloysius frightens most of the kids (humorously calling her a dragon after a scolding), but he is not intimidated by her.

Caught in the middle is Sister James (Amy Adams). Quiet and reserved, but nonetheless passionate about teaching history, James is conflicted because she respects Aloysius, but tends to agree with Flynn’s assertion that the clergy be more accessible to its parish. James sets the film’s conflict in motion.

Flynn’s camaraderie with the boys is especially extended to Donald Mueller, the school’s lone black student. His interest, he says, is largely motivated by simply being there for a boy that is going to be picked on and tormented. But after Flynn pulls Donald out of class for a private meeting, James notices Flynn has put the boy’s undershirt in his locker. And she’s pretty sure she smells alcohol on his breath, specifically the altar wine. And because this is a Catholic institution, there must be the stigma of pedophilia. (Don’t Baptist ministers get busted for this?)

Aloysius confronts Flynn on the issue, to which Flynn simply states that no wrongdoing occurred, and the meeting concerned a private matter. You know how sometimes married couples fight about one thing but the real issue is something deeper? That’s how it is here, but to a much higher degree. The initial issue at hand may be inappropriate conduct with the boy, but Aloysius and Flynn are really fighting about the direction of the church. There is a clear power struggle here; while Flynn may have seniority, Aloysius has tenure and her steely gaze is hugely intimidating. The film becomes a struggle between these two forces, to see who will prevail despite no evidence to the motivating conflict.

Flynn begins the movie preaching a sermon about doubt, saying that “doubt can be a bond as powerful and sustaining as certainty; when you are lost, you are not alone.” He means doubt can be used for good, but it is the very thing that derails him. It is only powerful to Aloysius, who spreads the seeds of doubt around, especially to Sister James. She is the key character to explore both sides of the issue. You could argue that she’s largely motivated by a desire to end conflict entirely, but she does waver between believing Flynn’s testimony and siding with Aloysius.

Doubt is at its strongest when it lets the conflict evolve naturally. The film is effective at points in engaging our emotions and think about where we would stand on the issue. This is escalated with a brief appearance from Donald’s mother (Viola Davis). When Aloysius informs her of the situation, her response is not along the lines of shock or outrage, but of a begrudging acceptance because, whether Flynn acted immorally or not, Donald just needs to survive for a few months to graduate, thus ensuring he gets in a good high school. Moments like these, when the lines become gray and doubt gnaws at one’s soul, are very effective.

A shame then, that the film is undercut with overwrought emotion. The aforementioned dialogue from the trailer occurs in Aloysius’s office, and now that I think of it, everything I’m about to describe occurs in this setting. In addition to the dialogue, which only noticeably drags here, director John Patrick Shanley (who also wrote the play) tries to spice things up with shoddy symbolism. During Aloysius’s initial interrogation, she opens the blinds and the light shines directly on Flynn. At the beginning of their ultimate conflict, thunder and lightning are hammered onto the scene. Shanley tries for ambiance, but the sloppy execution distracts from the message.

While both Hoffman and Streep are occasionally guilty of overacting, they are both strong in their central roles. Streep could probably do this role in her sleep, but she adds an appropriate amount of tenacity to an otherwise stereotypical role. Hoffman works best when he plays it low-key, losing a little fire when raising his voice. Adams thankfully turns down the bubbly to be very effective in a quieter, yet pivotal role. And Davis, despite her short screen time, makes an earnestly emotional impact.

The theme of doubt pitting man against man isn’t new; the Twilight Zone episode “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” is just one instance of how that concept makes for devastating social commentary. And despite the moments in which the film reaches beyond its grasp, Doubt succeeds because it shows not how a man can necessarily be beaten by his actions, but rather by perception. The lack of evidence can be irrelevant when psychological manipulation is at hand, a force devastating to anyone in its path.