Amadeus

"Amadeus", while historically inaccurate in numerous ways, is a brilliant film. Its central character is not a man but an attribute of man at his most remarkable: genius. Mozart's genius was at the highest level, on par with Shakespeare, Michelangelo and Balanchine. Forman knew this when he undertook translating Peter Shaffer's play. Although most of the acting is on a very high plane, the actors themselves are not top tier, not should they be. A famous, easily recognizable actor would have detracted from the central thesis that genius is greater than the one on whom it has been entrusted. Mozart was, of course, deeper than the character shown in the movie, but no personal life could equal the extent and depth of the musical genius that flowed from this little man. The letters he sent to his father show a remarkable sensitivity and depth of understanding. However, they are not paradigms of literary greatness. The immense contribution of W. A. Mozart lay in some of the most sublime music ever written. Fortunately, the film gave us snippets of some of the real gems in the Mozart canon: the great C Minor Mass, the Requiem and "Don Giovanni". Forman realized that no human being will ever be great enough or have the background to pen such masterpieces without intervention from elsewhere. This is certainly true of Shakespeare as well. So what we have here, ultimately, is a celebration of genius, that great gift to mankind that nearly always proves to be too much for the person who is chosen to manifest it to the rest of us. Many thanks to Milos Forman for the wisdom to keep out of the way and allow genius to shine through. In that sense, "Amadeus" is an exercise in humility. Few films come across as blessings for those who experience them. "Amadeus" is one such film.

The movie opens with an elderly Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) confessing to killing Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce). He used to be one of the great composers of Europe but has since been forgotten. As a boy, he was jealous of Mozart. He was delighted that his boorish father died. He works his way up to being the court composer to Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones) in Vienna. He is eager to meet Mozart but finds a flamboyant immature sex-fiend. Soon his admiration turns into jealousy of Mozart's Godly gift. Mozart marries Constanze (Elizabeth Berridge).

Director Milos Forman injects a lot of energy into a period piece. Tom Hulce's laugh is infectious. However it's F. Murray Abraham that is the true driver of this movie. It's his jealousy and scheming heart that creates the depths for Mozart. His older self gives so much color to his disgust for Mozart. And the music is operatic. It is not just beautiful and grand but it's also hilarious. There's also special mention to Jeffrey Jones.

I'd like to point out a few facts before I review the movie. First of all, Mozart died at home surrounded by his family, pupil and a priest. Secondly, the plot of Amadeus is not exactly original. Rimsky-Korsakov wrote a short opera called "Mozart and Salieri" with the bare bones of the story and the identical characterization of the two composers, and he used Pushkin's drama for the libretto. So, the rumor that Salieri killed Mozart has been around for almost a couple of centuries though we all know there isn't an iota of veracity in it.

That being said, Peter Shaffer's movie adaptation of his own play is still an astounding achievement. Have you ever seen a movie based on your favorite book and come out of the movie theater rather disappointed though the film version faithfully followed the storyline of the book? Amadeus is definitely not one of those movies. Shaffer clearly understands the difference between stage and film; the story is more elaborate in the movie, and some of the lengthy lines are replaced with more subtle images and close-ups.

I'm often surprised to find that people don't get that Amadeus is the story of the fictionalized character, Antonio Salieri, not the real one, who adored Mozart's music but hated everything else about him. In other words, the movie viewers are seeing Mozart through Salieri's eyes. Needless to say, his view is rather slanted. If you have read Shaffer's original play, you probably remember he describes Mozart's laugh 'grating.' In the film, this annoying laugh becomes more symbolic. Though Salieri speaks in front of a Catholic priest, he is actually having a one-sided discourse with God. At one point, he declares, "One day, I will laugh at you. Before I leave this earth, I will laugh at you." But as he is wheeled out of his room by an aide at the asylum, what we hear is that screeching laugh of Mozart--or is it? It becomes obvious as we watch that this movie is called Amadeus because that's what Salieri wished to be--God's beloved.

The movie might give some viewers who don't know much about Mozart a wrong impression that he was a cad, and it gives incorrect information on some of his music (e.g.; the count in The Marriage of Figaro sings "Contessa perdono" AFTER he learns that the woman dressed in the maid's clothes is his own wife. There's no mistaken identity here. Read the title of the song--Countess, forgive me!), but these are minor offenses. Though I am a die-hard Mozart fan, I can laugh at tongue-in-cheek references to Amadeus in other movies. My favorite? In Guarding Tess, a secret service agent tells his partner, "He (Mozart)'s a jerk. One day, a guy shows up with a mask, and he drops dead."

What's not to like about Amadeus? The tale Peter Shaffer tells is gripping, the actors are first- rate, and, of course, there's music. The selection of Mozart's music in the movie is excellent; you can truly enjoy the beauty of his music no matter how much or how little you know about it. In case you are wondering, a little tune Mozart plays on his back and hands crossed as a penalty at a party is Viva Bacchus from The Abduction from the Seraglio, a duet for Pedrillo and Osmin. Pedrillo, while singing this song, is trying to get Osmin, the harem guard, drunk to help his master rescue his true love. No wonder Schikaneder calls it 'our song.' And the improvised version of Salieri's welcome march is actually a famous song, Non piu andrai farfallone amoroso, from The Marriage of Figaro.

As I said, I'm a huge Mozart fan, so my rating may be somewhat biased, but what the heck, I gladly give ten stars to Amadeus. I watched it close to a hundred times over the years, and it still gives me a great pleasure every time I see (and hear) it.

At the tender age of 26, when I still thought no film was complete without a car chase and a big explosion, Amadeus had me hooked. I went to see it multiple times back in 1984 during its initial release, back when the theater was empty whenever it played and before it was nominated by the Academy.

This film is an unusual biography, and I often like to compare it with Ed Wood, since both Ed Wood and Salieri were men who gave everything they had to their respective crafts and came up short. Salieri, a contemporary of Mozart, has only one dream - to be a great composer. Predating the prosperity gospel by about two hundred years, Salieri mistakes obsessing with God over his own earthly desires with actual godliness, even being happy when his father - who objects to Salieri's musical interests - chokes to death and leaves Salieri free to pursue his musical dreams. He chalks this up to God's will for his career. Problems begin when Salieri meets a twenty-something Mozart at the court of the Emperor in Vienna, where Salieri is the court composer. Mozart is everything Salieri is not - profane, forward, and a great composer. Salieri starts down the road to insanity as he realizes the childish Mozart has all of the gifts he ever wanted and has been denied. However, Salieri is not an outright failure as was Ed Wood. In many ways he is something worse than a ridiculous failure - he is mediocre, and worse yet, he knows it.

Salieri,angry at God for honoring a profane ungrateful boy like Mozart while ignoring his own one desire to be a great composer, swears to destroy Mozart. The strange thing is, as long as Mozart is alive, Salieri is the honored composer, not Mozart, though this just seems to infuriate Salieri even more. Salieri seems to be the only person in Vienna who recognizes Mozart's talent. This just begs the question - why did it never occur to Salieri that being able to recognize something as valuable before anyone else does is a talent in and of itself? After all, in 1975 the second best thing to being Bill Gates would have been to have recognized his genius and invested heavily in his success. But I digress.

The cinematography and art direction on this film are outstanding. The visuals start out light and festive, matching Mozart's mood and prospects. As poverty, illness, and the guilt of his father's death close in on Mozart during the second half of the film, the mood and visuals become very dark to match what is happening in Mozart's own life. Highly recommended.

Most films about composers- Ken Russell's "The Music Lovers" about Tchaikovsky and "Immortal Beloved" about Beethoven are examples- rely upon the cliché of the creative artist as tortured, neurotic genius. Perhaps we like to console ourselves for the fact that we are not ourselves geniuses with the thought that genius must be paid for in mental suffering. Of course, not all composers fit this stereotype- Haydn was stoical in the face of misfortune (including a miserably unhappy marriage), Rossini was a noted bon viveur and it was often said of Felix Mendelssohn that his forename (Latin for "happy") well suited his character. But when did you last see a biopic of Haydn, Rossini or Mendelssohn? "Song of Norway" told the story of Grieg, another composer who doesn't really fit the "tormented genius" label, but it bombed at the box-office.

"Amadeus", however, attempts to overturn this cliché with a vengeance. The Mozart portrayed in the early scenes is about the least tormented genius who ever lived, obnoxiously hearty and cheerful, without the slightest doubt about his own talents. The tormented character is his rival, Antonio Salieri, but Salieri is no genius; in his own mind he is a hopeless mediocrity whose talents pale into insignificance besides Mozart's.

The story is told as a confession made by the now elderly, half- mad Salieri to a priest in 1823, long after Mozart's death, the earlier scenes being seen in flashback. As a young man, the deeply pious Salieri vows that if God will make him a great composer he will live a chaste, virtuous life and use his talents to God's glory. At first Salieri believes that his vow has been accepted. He quickly achieves fame and is appointed Court Composer to Emperor Joseph II. When Mozart arrives in Vienna, however, Salieri realises that the young man's music has a transcendent beauty which his own can never match.

Salieri's attitude towards his rival is not one of simple jealousy. Were Mozart a man of his own austere, puritanical stamp Salieri would not resent him nearly so much. Mozart, however, is very far from being puritanical. He is not a bad man, but he is very young, and his are a young man's faults- brashness, overweening self-confidence, a bawdy sense of humour, a keen eye for a pretty girl and a lack of respect for authority. (Actually, those last two are not really faults at all). His most irritating characteristic is his high-pitched laugh like a braying jackass. In Salieri's eyes, however, Mozart is a vulgar upstart, a smutty, sex-obsessed boy. Salieri believes that God has cheated him, by denying him the musical talent he deserves and giving it to an unworthy recipient. (The title is an appropriate one; Amadeus was not only Mozart's middle name but is also Latin for "beloved of God"). Salieri therefore plots a diabolical revenge against both Mozart and God.

The director Miloš Forman took the brave decision to cast little-known actors in the three main roles, F. Murray Abraham as Salieri, Tom Hulce as Mozart and Elizabeth Berridge as Mozart's beautiful young wife Constanze. In each case, however, that decision paid off admirably. Constanze has sometimes had a bad press from biographers, but here Berridge portrays her as strong-willed but loving and kind-hearted.

Both Abraham and Hulce were nominated for "Best Actor" Oscars, and it was Abraham who won. Good as Abraham is as the gloomy, saturnine Salieri, a man eaten up with obsessive hatred, I still think that Hulce should have beaten him. There is a remarkable contrast between the brash young jackass of the early scenes and the Mozart of the later ones- a more mature, serious family man who has learnt the meaning of responsibility and who is for the first time starting to experience worries- about his finances, about his health, about his career. Hulce's achievement is that he not only makes these two Mozarts equally believable but also indicates that they are not two distinct individuals but rather two aspects of the same complex personality. There are also good performances from Jeffrey Jones as the conscientious but bumbling and musically tone deaf Emperor Joseph and Roy Dotrice as Mozart's autocratic father Leopold.

"Amadeus" is not, and is not intended as, a factually accurate biopic of Mozart. As Peter Shaffer, who wrote both the screenplay and the play on which it was based, was well aware, there is no real evidence that Salieri was obsessively jealous of Mozart, and absolutely none to support the old legend that he murdered him. He was not in reality a celibate puritan- he had a wife, eight children and a mistress. Shaffer uses this legend as the basis of a fictional story which explores complex questions about the nature of artistic creativity and the relationship between man and God.

The film, deservedly, won the "Best Picture" Oscar for 1984; indeed, it is in my view one of the finest films of the eighties. It works on a number of levels- as a lavish piece of "heritage cinema" recreating the Europe of the late 18th century (the sets and costumes are particularly fine), as an intellectual exploration of philosophical issues, as a well-acted human drama, as a fictionalised study of a great man. The soundtrack is heavenly, but that is only to be expected, containing as it does some of Mozart's greatest music.

The film has had a curious side effect. It could have condemned Salieri to perpetual infamy as a jealous minor composer who was supposedly responsible for the death of a great one. Instead, it seems to have led to a revival of interest in his work; he is certainly better known today than he was in 1984. Many musicians would now regard him as something far more than the "patron saint of mediocrities". God may have answered Salieri's prayers long after his death. 10/10