Proof
Where: Langham Court Theatre
When: To June 24
Rating: four stars (out of five)
When it comes to creativity and madness, it’s typically the artist who takes centre stage. Pop culture’s list of crazy/brilliant icons includes painter Vincent van Gogh, writer Virginia Woolf, the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson and Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd.
In his Pulitzer-Prize winning drama Proof, David Auburn takes a different tack. His play is about a math genius who loses his grip on reality in later life. His daughter appears to have inherited his talents — however, she worries her father’s propensity toward mental instability may also lurk in her genes.
The question is: will daughter Catherine accomplish — and even surpass — what her father Robert achieved? Or will it be just another case of “shine on you crazy diamond?”
I last saw Proof in 2003 when the Belfry Theatre staged it with Thea Gill (Queer as Folk) and Nicholas Campbell (Da Vinci’s Inquest). It was a strong production. To its credit, Langham Court Theatre has opened a revival that’s no less enjoyable.
Directed by Richard Stille, this production is notable for its unusually strong cast: Melissa Taylor as Catherine (sardonic, emotionally fragile), Jon Scheer as Robert (well-meaning but losing his grip), Melissa Blank as Claire (Catherine’s well-meaning sister), and Liam McDonald as Hal (a young mathematician who admires both Robert and Catherine).
In many ways, Proof is a conventional text-driven play. What distinguishes it is the fact that Auburn is an unusually fine writer. As well, he adds a few clever twists that work terrifically well. For instance, Proof begins with a flashback in which Catherine has a late night-chat with Robert that turns out to be disturbingly illusory, deftly setting the tone for what follows. As well, a surprise revelation at the end of Act I propels the play with great velocity.
The most profound twist — if it can be called that — is Auburn’s examination of how gifted women have been prejudiced against by society. It’s a subject not often addressed in theatre (perhaps more so now than 14 years ago.) The people in Catherine’s life question whether she could have discovered a ground-breaking proof — that is, an original mathematical theory. It’s partly because her education is limited. However, the more fundamental question, at least the eyes of the doubters, seems to be: “Could a woman really have done this?”
Auburn interweaves this with the theme of trust . Have Hal’s professional ambitions led to him to forsake Catherine’s budding trust in him? Does Claire truly care for her sister? Or, under the guise of altruism, is she merely trying to re-package Catherine in a way that best suits Claire’s upwardly-mobile (and facile) lifestyle in New York City?
The cast succeeds in making each character a living and breathing person. It may sound easy; it’s not. Taylor does particularly well in bringing out Catherine’s querulous disillusionment while at the same time making her an empathetic person. On Friday night she always seemed to exist in the moment — a quality that sparks any character to life.
McDonald, another good actor, put his own stamp on Hal. He brought a twitchy nervousness to the role, almost a hyperkinetic quality, that transformed what might have been a stereotypical math nerd into a bona fide individual. Meanwhile, Blank captured the mixture of exasperation and good-hearted ordinariness that defines Claire. And, despite some hesitant moments in delivery, Scheer tapped into Robert’s flawed humanity.
Dick Newson’s set, the exterior of a brick house, is detailed and atmospheric — benefiting especially from the clever use of slides and projections.