Proof is a subtle drama centered around Martin, a blind man, who has a deep conviction that everyone tries to deceive him, simply because they 'can'. He has built his life around in such a way so as to not allow anyone to hurt him. He doesn't intend to trust anyone. He has a bizarre system of taking pictures and marking them in braille to be convinced that the world is as is being described to him. His maid Celia has strong feeling for him. He in fact, is specially rude to her advances so that despite his handicap, she is the weaker one in the relationship. In midst of all this comes Andy, whom Martin is able to trust and asks him to describe all the pictures he takes so that he can appropriately tag them. Celia who keeps Martin dependent on her, feels vulnerable when she sees Martin's growing trust in Andy. She manipulates Andy into doing something that shakes Martin's trust in him. Will he be able to win the trust back.It is not overly melodramatic nor is it very fast paced. It is a gripping tale where the director takes his own time to lay down the characters, revealing them only to the extent as needed to justify their actions. The chemistry between the characters is wonderful and all the three actors do a wonderful job of breathing life into their roles. Overall an enjoyable lighthearted drama with some funny moments in between.

The story of a blind photographer is certainly an interesting one. The film doesn't show us how Martin makes a living, but he does seem to live quite a comfortable life. The reason he photographs is so he can have proof that what he thinks is out there corresponds to what people describe to him from his photos. This is what Andy mainly does at the beginning. Martin gives him photographs, and Andy describes them to him which Martin can then label. However, the flaw about this is how can Martin possible remember each photograph he takes? Either he would forget at least the majority of the pictures he takes at any day, so when he goes to develop them he wouldn't really know where they are from. Or, after he has labelled them and revisits them, how would he remember what the words mean in relation to the photograph? There is no time or place assigned to the feel or words of the label, which is especially hard to achieve without visual aids (unless he has 'photographic memory'). Weaving does a pretty good job at his character, and you can definitely get the sense of his character's dry wit. The tension between him and Celia is one I find very awkward, especially as Celia is always coming on to him. In this way, Picot does a great job with her character, depicting someone whose whole world is centred on this one person. I also enjoy the way she would randomly disrupt furniture pieces so that Martin would bump into them later. It's just so unnecessary and done out of spite that makes it laugh out loud worthy. Crowe as well does great, and his relationship with Weaving is well elaborated and depicted. There are essentially the three characters of this film, and they all interweave in each other's life in drastic ways, producing sound character development. However, the film moves at quite a slow pace, and there are countless scenes in which the characters just stare at each other in silence- or in Martin's case, sit in silence. This somewhat adds intensity to the film (dark humour), and at the same time makes it uncomfortable and awkward to watch. The story is well told, and the editing, cinematography and directing all nicely come together. The set designs - especially of Celia's apartment, tells a lot of the character. I wish there would have been more to Martin's place that could have depicted more of who his character was. His dog is cute, and its disappearance on daily walks for a few minutes is the main mystery Martin wishes to solve. Overall, the film definitely tells an interesting story, but is a little weird. I wouldn't watch it again, or outright recommend it for others to watch.

The success of Proof is in its superior acting and to a lesser degree its characterizations. But its shape and outcome are weakened by too psychological an approach at the expense of power realities.Martin, the blind protagonist, has the most social power of the three. He's white, male, and minimally middle class. He's got a hip job as a music reviewer for which he is paid well enough to hire a housekeeper. Although he's much alone, he does have his buddy, Andy, whose everyman status mediates Martin's entry or inclusion in the masculine world ("strangulation, mutilation" Andy emotes as he leads the chorus of sadistic beeps at the drive-in), and which in toto equates to male bonding. He also has Celia, the housekeeper, who serves Martin as both wife, mother, housekeeper, secretary, conversationalist, and love/sex interest (interest only, of course) without even minimal commitment on his part. To boot Martin is the central character, whose life Celia and Andy must revolve around. His problem, engrained distrust, especially of women, is the pivotal focus in the world of this film, which is his world.In contrast, Celia has at best minimal social power. Her sex object status only underscores this fact. For as provocative, fashionable (she looks like the stylish editor of some New York art journal) and sophisticated as she may be, she is ultimately treated no better than Ugly, the cat. She too is alone, motherless and fatherless, but her lack of friends is more real than imagined, and her gender affiliation, if it exists at all, is not empowering. Nor does her job, despite her mastery of it, engage her publicly. She may be an audacious woman who knows her own thoughts and feelings, but these just seem to be forms of self-betrayal. For Martin, her boss, is both condescending and perverse. To him she's a bag, a woman with "no heart," "a vile" despicable woman, which in turn makes Celia compare herself to "a bitch in heat." (She knows men's minds) Seduction and her vengeful game playing are her only forms of leverage--and identity. Satin blouses and snapping photos of her master on the john are poor replacements for the love and world she wants (though, she settles for just being needed). And she is more deeply sex-bound in having to toss her body over to Andy--her only rival for Martin's love-- who she also serves as an older woman sex fantasy.So, how is it that Martin benefits from the film's psychological framework. For one, it makes him conveniently unaware of Celia's problems. Self-criticism is beyond him because he's self-preoccupied. It is no coincidence that he's a photographer, the spy, in control, of his immediate world and those in it. The way he may or can affect those around him are at best secondary--there are no recognizable oppressors in his world, only victims, of which he is one, and Celia is not. The fact that the solution for his distrust and phobias is finally grasping that his mother was no lier, does not benefit Celia, the second woman in his life. No, it is simple, honest Andy, also enmeshed in the psychological view, who is both the catalyst and beneficiary of Martin's faith. Celia is removed from the ending and sacked from her job because she exists in a framework that denies her gender, her oppression, and her political reality. In other words, male bonding, despite moments of transcendence from it, in the end, prevails in "Proof". Martin and Andy are the odd guys in, Celia the odd woman out--that's what psychology does to politics..

This film was on cable TV in Los Angeles. It caught my eye because of the contrast of a very young Hugo Weaving and the man we've seen in later films. The relationship he has with his "housekeeper" had me staring at the t.v., then slowly sitting down engrossed in the film. Only later when he appeared on screen did I even know Russell Crowe was in the film. He, too, was quite young and rather a sweet character, although he's apparently supposed to be a troublemaker. He's very easy with Weaving's character, very kind, but real.Juxtaposed with the blind photographer having his life recorded in a series of snapshots (that others have to describe to him), is this story being revealed largely through visuals - because he is blind the dialog often has little to do with the activity that is going on around him. We learn more from the non verbal than the verbal. He doesn't have that luxury.His deadpan (because he has no idea what's going on) is priceless.*Spoiler* - For example, when he is at the housekeeper's house surrounded by photos of himself - We are dumbstruck; he is clueless. His lack of reaction makes the evidence of her obsession all the more creepy.In the end, the movie is about trust, and about the risk we take when we trust other people. And about the isolation that we face when we don't.