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Proof
Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning play by David Auburn, Proof follows the recent filmic trends regarding mathematical geniuses and their mental instabilities (Pi, A Beautiful Mind, Good Will Hunting). And I suppose what math movie would be remotely intriguing without a heaping dose of crazy added to the proverbial pi? Proof centers on twenty-seven-year-old Catherine (Gwyneth Paltrow), a shining math theorist who is forced to put her life on hold in order to take care of her once-brilliant, schizophrenic father Robert (Anthony Hopkins). The film’s story begins after Robert’s death, with Catherine haunted by the fear of inheriting her father’s mental illness. Catherine does come off as a bit bipolar—going from near-catatonic docility to spewing, riotous anger on a moment’s notice. One can hardly blame her though, as she’s forced to deal with her controlling, methodical sister Claire (Hope Davis), who vultures down after Robert dies and tries to sweep Catherine off into an institution. “Am I on that list? Square away crazy sister—check.” Add to the equation a doe-eyed former student of Robert’s, Hal, (Jake Gyllenhaal) who’s in love with Catherine and looking for his own ticket to math stardom, which from what I gather, includes a lot of press conferences and methamphetamines.
The central theme of the film, unsurprisingly, deals with proof. Catherine is forced to prove that she is the genius behind a revolutionary mathematical proof (which they are pretty vague about, something with prime numbers) that she reveals to Hal after they have sex at her father’s funeral party, mmm. Catherine, in addition to questioning her own faltering mental condition, and fending off her bitchy sister, is also faced with condescension from Hal, who doesn’t believe she’s “good enough” to write the Holy Grail proof.
Their somewhat contrived romantic relationship gets tiresome at times, though Hal’s attempts at courtship are kind of endearing.
Hal: “Wow! You read a lot of math books.”
Catherine: “No, I read Cosmo. That’s just window dressing.”
Also, for all the film throws the word “crazy” around, Anthony Hopkins recipe for insanity reads more like a grumpy grandfather than a certifiable whack job. Sure, he yells some, and he writes a “theorem” about why winters are cold, but his lunacy doesn’t really come across as anything you’d call Oprah about, even though the film was based in Chicago. |
