Burden of Proof

Proof – Skokie Theatre

Proof tells the story of Catherine, a young woman whose father, a legendary mathematician and professor at the University of Chicago, has recently passed away, leaving her to contemplate all the things he has left to her: one of those beautiful old houses that populate U of C’s Hyde Park campus and an office overflowing with notebooks documenting his work (and, possibly, his eventual decline into dementia). Having spent the last few years practically alone in the house caring for him, Catherine must now also deal with Claire, a well-intentioned, but somewhat overbearing older sister, and Hal, a former student of her father’s who, while ostensibly working to preserve her father’s legacy, may just be out to jump-start his own career. This play by David Auburn premiered in 2000 and netted both a Pulitzer Prize for Drama and the Tony for Best Play, and an eventual movie adaptation starring Gwenyth Paltrow and Anthony Hopkins.

This show holds a bit of a special place in my heart. I was an undergrad at U of C when this play premiered and I read it as part of a drama class I took there. For anyone not familiar with the institution, the fact that students proudly sell t-shirts declaring the school “Where Fun Comes to Die” should tell you just about all you need to know. Beyond peppering the play with references to local Hyde Park and Chicago geography, the show does a very good job of capturing the odd mix of intensity and infinity that defines the life of a graduate student. I don’t know enough math to verify whether the technical terms used in the play are more than gibberish, but the substance rings true: I have known many people in various disciplines who have felt the pressure to revolutionize their field before they were thirty while simultaneously having no idea when they will actually receive their degrees. It’s an odd thing to feel past your prime before you’ve finished school. Auburn’s script captures that beautifully.

Anchoring the show as Catherine, Kearstyn Keller has a tall order. The first act ends with her declaring that the one brilliant piece of work found in her father’s office, otherwise overflowing with gibberish, is actually hers, not his. If true, that would make Catherine a savant, surpassing even her father’s abilities. If she inherited his talent, though, did she also inherit his illness? Keller has to portray a character who both hopes and dreads that she is her father’s daughter. By and large, I think she has. I definitely think she did a good job portraying a character who is, understandably, pretty lost for most of the show. I didn’t quite get the sense that her mental health was really in question, but I think that has more to do with some general tonal choices than her specifically.

In terms of criticism, I think the show fell a bit short in the first act in building the tension that boils over in the second. The sarcastic remarks got the laughs but lacked the acid that underlies them. The show comes to the head we expect in the second act but, even there, the director seems to have gone for loud and angry instead of a quiet, icier intensity that would have better served the material. And while Richard Engling’s Robert was appropriately paternal and did a good job portraying the confusion that defines the early onset of his illness, I don’t think he achieved the sense of ‘looming’ the character needed. He’s been a legend for almost his entire adult life and he should suck all the oxygen out of any room he enters, but I didn’t see that.

At first glance, this show might seem a fairly standard family drama: following the protracted death of a parent, the family assembles, and long-simmering resentments boil over. By so accurately capturing the pressures in the life of an academic, though, this story finds a way to imbue those family tensions with some interesting and unexpected stakes. The result is a show that focuses on a young woman fighting for both personal and professional acknowledgment while trying to figure out what those things even mean to her. While I do think the show is not as taut as it could be, this is still a good production of a great story.

Recommended

Reviewed by Kevin Curran

 

Presented November 2 to November 18 by the Skokie Theatre at 7924 Lincoln, Skokie.

Tickets are available in person at the box office, by calling 847-677-7761 or by going to www.skokietheatre.org.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.