The Barnstormers certainly proved something to their full house in the Arellano Theater: You don't need a big stage, a lot of time or a professional director to put on an amazing show. Proof, the Barnstomers' Intersession show, directed by first-timer junior George Telonis and starring Elspeth Kursh, Chris Hamel, Matt Bassett and Rina Telonis, was a glorious tribute to the talent and nerdiness of the Hopkins community.
The story, from a Pulizer-prize winning script by David Auburn, follows slightly discouraged, slightly crazy Catherine (senior Kursh), the daughter of a recently deceased mathematical genius (junior Hamel), as she works her way from student and helper to master mathematician.
The entire show takes places on the porch of Catherine's home. The set is sparse: two chairs, a table and a door.
The design was very limited since Arellano is used for classes as well as performances and must be cleared every night, so all pieces are removable. However, Proof is so well written that an elaborate set would only detract from the story.
The show opens with dialogue between Catherine and her father. The exchange is awkward and jilted; neither Hamel nor Kursh seem comfortable in their characters -- Hamel as a stuffy old man and Kursh as his disgruntled daughter. Then it is revealed that the father has died a week ago and Catherine is just seeing things.
The awkward tension makes sense; seeing dead people is not usually very comfortable. In the show's frequent flashbacks, Hamel returns and delivers the insane genius' lines with great aplomb. You would almost think he knew what nonlinear algebraic systems of semi-differential equations were.
Then enters Hal (senior Bassett), an old student of Catherine's father, who is dedicated to looking for hidden mathematical gems amidst the wild scribbling of his mentor's notebooks.
Bassett fits the quirky, cool-in-a-dorky-way character perfectly. This was especially well done in a scene where he tells Catherine about this cool rock band of mathematicians that play a song called "I" where they just stand there silent for three minutes. "Get it?! It's an imaginary number c9"
He then sheepishly admits to being the drummer. Bassett also mastered spitting out line after line of difficult math terms; quite a tribute to the acting of the senior Writing Sems major.
Catherine's older sister Claire (sophomore Rina Telonis) flies in from New York for the funeral and to bring her younger sister back to New York to be put in extensive therapy for fear she might loose her mind as their father did.
As the condescending know-it-all, Telonis masters the slow "I'm speaking to a mentally handicapped person" speech. The tension works and Kursh warms up in her sisterly role.
After the funeral, Catherine and Hal fall for each other, bonding over their appreciation of math, and the chemistry is amazing.
Bassett blushes like a bashful schoolboy when Kursh asks about what he does for sex and Kursh glows on the morning after, walking dreamily around in her robe. They have a refreshing high-school sweetheart innocence, so when Bassett delivers corny lines like, "I want to spend every minute with you," the audience "aws" and doesn't groan.
The first act flows chronologically, through the introduction of all the characters, the funeral party and the morning after but ends with a shocking revelation. During intermission the audience was left hanging, wondering what would happen next, but when the lights come up on the second act it's a flashback.
The story continues over several scenes from the past that shed a touching light, taking it from a simple boy meets girl plot to a compelling coming of age drama. The actors particularly shine in the second act, taking the time shifts and the meaning-infused dialogue easily in stride.
But the play is not devoid of humor. Clever dialogue and hilarious scenarios kept the audience laughing.
A high point was when Claire and Catherine recounted the after-funeral party and the drinking capacity of the math geeks. The scene is especially amusing since almost everyone in the audience, after partying with Hopkins' nerdiest, have thought the same thing: "pathetic physicists."
Proof is an excellently written show and Telonis' directing did it justice. His chosen actors had amazing onstage chemistry, which brought the message-heavy dialogue to life.
When the final lights went down the audience was almost disappointed, wanting more of the rich, entertaining story. But the message had been understood; the talented Barnstormers had nothing more to prove.
