Main Crew: prod, Lynda House; dir, Jocelyn Moorhouse; writ, Jocelyn Moorehouse; dop, Martin McGrath; ed, Ken Sallows; mus, Not Drowning Waving; prod d, Patrick Reardon; cos, Cerri Barnett..
A remarkable debut directorial effort from one of Australia's finest filmmaking talents, Jocelyn Moorhouse's Proof is a stylish example of the nation's post New Wave cinema. Moorhouse has skillfully integrated socially relevant themes with familiar, banal, suburban settings and naturalistic acting in creating a powerful, dark work that highlights the fears and weaknesses that reside within each of us.
An appealing premise has one of the characters, a blind man, occupying his spare time as a photographer. He takes photos in an attempt to bring balance and security to his life — comfortable in the knowledge that what he perceives is representative of what the world actually holds for him. To her credit, Moorhouse did not allow the film to denigrate into the light-hearted comedy that seems so obvious. However, she has allowed for dark, dry, comic situations to run throughout the picture in order to anchor the film on a very human level so as to appeal to as wide an audience as possible. The comic interludes also represent trust, the film's most important theme, as they are rarely shared between Celia (Genevieve Picot) and Martin (Hugo Weaving) who are at loggerheads.
In fact, Celia's relationship with Martin can only be described as sexually obsessive. Withstanding his abuse for years as she worked as his cleaner and assistant, Celia refuses to leave Martin since she has grown psychotically obsessed with the thought of having her way with him. While Martin laps up Celia's attention, we come to realise that the only reason that he allows her to remain under his employ is due to the fact that he pities her, instead of her feeling sorry for him. The untrusting relationship that the two share mirrors Martin's relationship with his mother. His manner of dealing with their differences, on both occasions, is handled with a great deal of mysogyny. Martin, as a character, is also in a state of being that borders on psychosis. The lack of faith that he holds in mankind has forced a fateful paradox upon him. That is, while he feels that photos will provide the unalterable, all-seeing proof that he needs to justify his behaviour and his interaction with others, he holds so little faith in the integrity of others that he cannot have his photos descibed to him. This is, of course, until he meets Andy (Russell Crowe), a likeable Aussie larrikin with whom Martin eventually feels comfortable. As the relationship ensues, a sense of suppressed homosexuality tends to come to the fore, driving Celia closer to the brink of insanity. The subdued homosexual cues, coupled with Celia's determined seduction ritual with both men, creates a powerful sense of sexual tension that underlies the film and the motivations of each of the characters. In doing so, the audience is made aware of the heightened emotional state of the three players as their relationship progresses to an almost surreal emotional plateau.
