Starring in a Broadway revival of a Pulitzer Prize-winning play would ordinarily be a pretty sweet gig, but I do not envy Amy Ryan. About a month ago, just as previews were set to begin for a new production of John Patrick Shanley’s “Doubt: A Parable,” with a stellar cast led by Liev Schreiber and Tyne Daly, it was announced that Ms. Daly had to withdraw for health reasons and would be replaced by Ms. Ryan.

An accomplished stage and screen actress in her own right, Ms. Ryan has inherited the role of Sister Aloysius Beauvier, the principal of a Catholic middle school who in the play — which also earned Tony and Drama Desk awards for Mr. Shanley in 2005 — suspects Father Brendan Flynn, a popular priest now being played by Mr. Schreiber, of highly inappropriate behavior with one of his students.

Even the beloved Ms. Daly (who was hospitalized with an unspecified condition but thankfully is expected to recover) would have faced stiff competition, at least with anyone who had seen the original staging of “Doubt,” which had its premiere off-Broadway two decades ago. There, and in the Broadway transfer, Aloysius was played by Cherry Jones, one of the greatest actors alive, who imbued her with a razor-sharp wit and a stentorian authority that could be chilling, without obscuring the character’s underlying, seemingly suppressed humanity.

As the charming Flynn, whose lyrical but accessible sermons endear him to the congregation and clergy alike, the Irish actor Brían F. O’Byrne proved a worthy match for Ms. Jones; for a 2008 screen adaptation, their roles were respectively assigned to the late Philip Seymour Hoffman and Meryl Streep — no slouches themselves.

There was little, well, doubt that Mr. Schreiber, who has triumphed in meaty parts crafted by scribes ranging from Shakespeare to Arthur Miller to Eric Bogosian, would acquit himself nicely as the sole male character in this play. From the moment he launches into the opening monologue, in which Flynn holds forth on the elusiveness of certainty, even for the faithful — a prominent theme here, predictably — he commands our attention, serving the mix of almost intimidating eloquence and earthy humor Mr. Shanley invested in the character.

Those assets take a dark turn once Flynn is confronted with Aloysius’s suspicion — her conviction, really — that he has been using them to sordid ends. In one disturbing, provocative exchange, the priest appeals to a younger nun, Sister James, by asking if she loves her pupils, noting, “There’s nothing wrong with love.” In another, Flynn insists to Aloysius that their students require “warmth” and “a helping hand,” and Mr. Schreiber conveys such tenderness and frustration that we question whether we’re watching a gentle, misunderstood soul or an adroit sociopath.

Yet for all of Flynn’s charisma, “Doubt” is ultimately a play driven by women — women who must grapple with the expectations and dominance of men both within the church and outside it. And Ms. Ryan, unfortunately, hasn’t yet captured the nuances of her character’s inner struggle. Her Aloysius is, so far, all cold repression; while her dry, tight delivery can accommodate the funnier lines quite well, the performance isn’t as dynamic or three-dimensional as it needs to be.

The two women who complete the company are both, under Scott Ellis’s direction, excellent. Zoe Kazan’s quirky, vaguely melancholy soulfulness proves a perfect fit for the passionate but insecure Sister James, who must rein in her own spirit to meet Aloysius’s demands; and Quincy Tyler Bernstine is elegant and devastating in her one scene as the mother of the boy who may be Flynn’s victim.

Given the relatively limited rehearsal time Ms. Ryan had in her more prominent role, I’d like to think she can still grow in it. At this point, there’s no way to be sure, but that’s often the case, as “Doubt” reminds us early and repeatedly.