Anyone who has ever panicked halfway through a calculus problem set has probably felt on the verge of a breakdown, but what if a math problem was so tough that it actually cost you your sanity?
"Proof," the latest in a series of stage-to-screen adaptations, is a weighty drama that uses the pretext of math to plumb the depths of human interaction. Set in present-day Chicago, "Proof" tells the story of Catherine Llewellyn (Gwyneth Paltrow), the daughter of a brilliant but recently deceased mathematician who inherits both the method and the madness that made her father great.
Robert Llewellyn (Anthony Hopkins) took the mathematical world by storm in his early twenties, but by the time Catherine reached the same age her father had succumbed to an all-consuming graphomania (compulsive writing), which broke his mind and spirit. Torn between grief for her dad, her overbearing older sister (Hope Davis) and a budding romance with Robert's former student Hal (Jake Gyllenhaal), Catherine has to deal with her father's legacy, newly complicated by the discovery of a revolutionary new proof that her father may have penned in a rare lucid moment.
"Proof," based on the critically acclaimed play by David Auburn, consisted of a single scene in its original stage incarnation. The one-set approach doesn't work quite as well on film (see 2002's "Phone Booth"), so director John Madden's ("Shakespeare in Love") interpretation involves a bit more movement and the obligatory elaboration of the sex scene.
For the most part, however, "Proof" is an intensely character-driven film, dependent on the development of tangled inter-personal relationships instead of plot twists or visual fanfare. The result is an incredibly powerful, compelling movie, though it lacks the grandeur of 2001's similarly themed "A Beautiful Mind."
"Proof" is the first of three Gyllenhaal movies premiering this fall, and what a way to kick off the season. Gyllenhaal has a penchant for playing characters with varying degrees of mental instability, but his role as the upstanding Hal is probably his toughest yet: the straight guy. It's not easy to play a neutral character without looking flat or squeaky clean, but Gyllenhaal manages to strike the perfect balance between Danny Tanner and Dudley Doo Right.
Silver screen veteran and Academy Award-winner Gwyneth Paltrow, who actually played the character on stage, comes off looking downright inferior next to an actor eight years her junior and with half the experience. She lacks originality and inspiration in creating the complex character of the troubled Catherine, relying on her naturally waif-like anemic delivery to pass for an accurate portrayal of borderline mental illness. Instead of the tantalizing ambiguity of Auburn's Catherine, Paltrow here goes for full-on nutcase, which apparently means playing the character like an awkward preteen girl.
Thank heavens for Sir Anthony Hopkins, the classic professional who earns his knighthood with his depiction of Catherine's father ,Robert. Audiences know from his days as Hannibal Lecter that Hopkins has the chops to pull off characters with deeply twisted psychoses, and his performance in "Proof" was no exception. From Robert's severe mood swings to intimate father-daughter moments around the dinner table, Hopkins alternates between shocking boldness and fine emotional subtleties with graceful ease.
Madden's expert direction complements Hopkins' performance, weaving the story in and out of real time and flashbacks that give the audience snapshots of Robert's demise. The notebook containing the mysterious proof provides a common thread, connecting the characters as it changes hands and keeping the audience on track with clever symbolism.
Auburn's close collaboration with screenwriter Rebecca Miller pays off big time - it lends "Proof" an authenticity and a sharpness of dialogue usually lost in the translation from play to film.
Besides Paltrow, the movie's only glaring offense was a single scene that lasted thirty seconds in the last half of the movie. A sequence this short normally could not taint an entire film, but like the last five minutes of "Mystic River" the oddly placed, slow-motion chase scene featuring Gyllenhaal sprinting pell-mell after Paltrow's retreating car leaves viewers with a bad taste in their mouths.
In the end, these unpleasant elements are not what "Proof" will be remembered for. At once gut-wrenching, frightening, passionate and moving, this movie comes together in the end as neatly as another Red Sox world championship.
