September 22, 2005
By Matt Savelloni
“THE GREAT PROOF OF MADNESS IS THE DISPROPORTION OF ONE'S DESIGNS TO ONE'S MEANS.” – Napoleon Bonaparte
Man, I was prepared to hate this. Those who frequent my column know I am not one for self-conscious, navel-gazing prose, that kind of Andover on its way to Vassar Creative Writing 101 expression that screams, “Look, everybody, I can write!” Hey, I grew up on the lean and mean genres of John D. MacDonald, Robert Parker, Stephen King, Robert R. McCammon, Joseph Wambaugh, John Farris, Dean Koontz and Elmore Leonard. Sue me. I enjoy greatly varied tastes but the shallow and pretentious struggles of the “illuminati” leave me cold. The more I heard about PROOF, the more I put off picking it up. I’m happy to report that while I am not filled with vitriolic fervor by David Auburn’s work, I am not entirely forgiving, either.
So Dad goes crazy, or maybe he’s always been crazy, who knows? PROOF begins with one of those truisms that exist only in fiction: the functional mental patient/genius. True, most great thinkers are unique, eccentric even, but rarely with the kind of Upper West Side style found in literature and theatre. Stories like PROOF almost make it seem desirable to be out of one’s mind, much like A BEAUTIFUL MIND employed schizophrenia, of all things, to stylize intellect and conquering love. Sorry, place me in the Not Buying It category. The idea that willpower and brainpower are enough to overcome physical ailments, even tortures, is Hallmark untenable, which is why I’m not surprised such a trope is trotted out repeatedly in all walks of storytelling—people just love this soft-soap shit.
“AS THE FAMILY GOES, SO GOES THE NATION AND SO GOES THE WHOLE WORLD IN WHICH WE LIVE.” – Pope John Paul II
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Auburn efficiently sets up the story in the first act when we meet our protagonist, deeply depressed and possibly cracked daughter Catherine. She shares her father’s virtuosity as well as his mental instability. Or does she? When Hal discovers a notebook with a potentially world-changing mathematical proof, the play takes flight with this suitor torn between believing Catherine’s claim that it is actually her proof and his hero worship of her father. Flying into the ointment is sister Claire, a near-shrill too-practical marm who wants to drag Catherine back to Chicago because of the latter’s psychological skydive. The “proof” of Auburn’s work, therefore, becomes one of Catherine verifying to her lover and sibling—not to mention herself—that she is not just her father’s daughter but also a sensible, feeling woman.
These well-worn conceits are some of problems I have with PROOF but they pale in comparison to the corner into which Auburn paints himself. Call me an egghead, but I was intrigued by the idea of this astonishing proof. I wanted to hear more about it, listen to its merits being debated and feel the passion involved in proving its authorship. However, those prospects take a back seat to family confessionals and—worse, still—romantic development. And yet, Auburn’s writing is so strong, his dialogue so crisp and true, that I am sorry I missed the passionate heights stage actors must have ascended in embodying his characters. Mary-Louise Parker ruled the boards during her run as Catherine, a performance celebrated in every corner of the critical press. I wonder how much of her radiance carried over into praise for the play, but Auburn definitely deserves kudos for tear-jerking and funny/sad domestic desperations.
After reading the play, I discovered a few other incongruities in PROOF: the fact that although Catherine tends to her father for years, only now after his death is anybody questioning her stability and independence. Also, the notion that Catherine’s life has passed her by because of these ministrations left me cold. She is still a young woman. How depressing that PROOF should suggest that anyone—especially someone as young as Catherine—cannot reinvent themselves after a period of dedicated and loving sacrifice. Then again, maybe this is Auburn’s point. Hal and Claire assume Catherine needs to be taken care of when in fact, she just needs to free the yolk of Dad’s legacy and deal with her sadness at his absence. If so, some of these illogicalities may be forgiven but combined with the mad-genius characterizations and the short shrift given the mathematical McGuffin, they prevent me from completely loving PROOF. Auburn’s skill is clearly abundant—he is a phenomenal writer, one whose work needs to be anticipated. But PROOF seems like a script written by an extraordinarily talented author for an upscale episode of FAMILY TIES.
“WHAT I DON'T LIKE ARE POMPOUS, PRETENTIOUS MOVIES.” – Peter Jackson
The Oscar season begins with the release of PROOF. It is the first pedigreed drama of autumn. The film version of David Auburn’s play reunites director John Madden with SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE Best Actress Gwenyth Paltrow and frankly, it can’t get here soon enough. Both are in need of serious career resuscitation. SHAKESPEARE…was the best movie of 1998 and is in my Top 10 of the 90s. It combines an obvious love for theater with affecting movie magic in a story that is complex, romantic, funny, dramatic and liberating. Yet one can’t help but ponder what happened to the two biggest principals of its success. Paltrow was ready to seize the Queen of Hollywood throne after her Oscar win and indeed, followed it up with a great turn in the vastly underrated THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY. An admirable job in THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS should also be noted but the unstoppable ooze of DUETS, BOUNCE, SHALLOW HAL, POSSESSION, VIEW FROM THE TOP, SYLVIA and SKY CAPTAIN did not complement her obvious gifts. Madden fared even worse with the laughably histrionic CAPTAIN CORELLI’S MANDOLIN and has not been heard from since.
I would mention Anthony Hopkins but what else is there to say about a man who has simply become a legend? Hope Davis is always reliable and Jake Gyllenhaal is poised to start defining himself as a leading man. Auburn adapted PROOF—always a good sign—with the help of screenwriter Rebecca Miller, who wrote the estimable PERSONAL VELOCITY and THE BALLAD OF JACK & ROSE. But the ultimate success of PROOF falls to Madden and Paltrow. Despite my reservations about select aspects of the play, PROOF provides fertile soil for these two artists to showcase their talents anew.
“The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice.” – Arthur Schopenhauer
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