‘Proof’ positive, thought-provoking
David Auburn’s Pulitzer-winner “Proof” is a remarkable work of art in a number of ways.
It’s an intensely emotional play about father-daughter bonding; a thoughtful examination of the fine line between genius and madness; and an intellectual exploration of higher math and the self-described “geeks” who love it.
Yet the most wonderful thing about this thoroughly moving Studio Theatre production doesn’t arrive until the end, in the last 30 seconds.
Two of the main characters, Catherine and Hal, huddle together on a porch, their noses buried in a notebook, happily and earnestly engaged in a discussion of numbers. You’ll have to see the play to understand why this simple, subdued scene is such a clear signal of hope and of better days to come. But that’s exactly what it is.
It’s the kind of optimistic ending generally out of fashion in serious drama and literature, but, man, does it feel good.
That’s largely because Auburn – and director Marianne McLaughlin and her four-person cast – created such deep wells of empathy for all four characters. That’s not easy, because every one of these characters can be prickly and exasperating. You’ll find yourself first siding with one, and then the other, and gradually all four.
Catherine is clearly the play’s central character, and Wonder Russell delivers the kind of charismatic performance that I will remember for a long time. Actually, I remembered it from 2003, when she performed the same role on another local stage. She is even better now.
With her droll, sideways manner of speaking and her dry, ironic line delivery, Russell sometimes seemed to be channeling Mary-Louise Parker. I mean that as a high compliment, because Parker originated this role on Broadway and is the embodiment of Catherine – still a bit of a teenager even at age 25, with a kind of dazed vulnerability.
Russell has a powerful stage presence which makes it hard not to watch her even while the other characters are speaking. I noticed that she responded instinctively to what other characters were saying, with a face that continually revealed her character’s reactions. She was perpetually in the moment, to use the actor’s phrase.
Russell might be able to kick up Catherine’s sarcasm a notch, and possibly her intensity. However, Russell succeeds nearly flawlessly in handling the role’s central challenge, which is to swing instantly from love to resentment and from hope to despair (and countless stops in between), often in the course of the same conversation.
Paul D. Villabrille demonstrates his considerable talent and craft as Hal, a grad student and Catherine’s sometimes lover and sometimes nemesis. He’s a total math nerd, but Villabrille makes us understand why that is a good thing.
Rita O’Farrell, as Catherine’s sister, manages to make us feel empathy for a character – the domineering older sister – who is not nearly as easy to warm up to.
And J.P. O’Shaughnessy imbues the character of Robert, Catherine’s famous math-genius father, with a Lear-like tragic dignity. Robert’s mental faculties have declined over the years, yet his personality remains commanding in both his lucid and non-lucid moments. Catherine’s anxiety over whether she has inherited his genius, his madness, or both, is one of Auburn’s central themes.
In that final, gentle scene, director McLaughlin has Robert looming as a shadowy presence behind the screen door. Can someone loom in approval? “Proof” says yes.