Amadeus (1984)

After talking about Chuck Jones' excellent What's Opera, Doc? (1957), I felt compelled to rewatch plenty of cartoons revolving around Opera (and classical music in general) that I used to enjoy when I was a kid. As a consequence of the amazing time I had in doing that, it was impossible for me not to choose Miloš Forman's Mozart biopic Amadeus as the next movie to comment on. It was Mozart's my first opera ever, Le nozze di Figaro, which I had the pleasure to watch at the Sydney Opera House when studying in Australia. Also, I will be watching his Don Giovanni in a couple of months, at the New National Theatre in Tokyo, which will then become my girlfriend's first opera ever.

Wrapped by Mozart's sublime music, the movie is told from the point of view of an old Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham). After a failed suicide attempt, Salieri is committed to an insane asylum, where he accuses himself of having murdered Mozart (Tom Hulce) out of envy. He confesses how he used to live a sedulous and diligent life, refusing earthly pleasures in order to indulge God so as to be worthy of being blessed with inspiration when composing, until meeting the talented and famed Mozart: a vulgar buffoon who luxuriated in all vices Salieri abstained. He tells of his anger at God when discovering that Mozart made no corrections in his music, as if taking dictations instead of actually composing. "Displace one note and there would be diminishment; displace one phrase, and the structure would fall. [...] Here again was the very voice of God!", he states. He then describes how he turned against God and dedicated his life to damaging Mozart's, "God's beloved" (amadeus), leading to Mozart's death in poverty and subsequent burial in a communal grave. Salieri, upon finishing his confession, finally goes mad, declaring himself the "patron saint" of all mediocrities in the world.

Mozart (Tom Hulce) composing
Tom Hulce does a great job in portraying Mozart as a genius who is fully aware of how good he is (therefore extremely lacking in modesty), yet totally unprepared to live as a responsible adult: as described by Salieri, he is always drinking, partying and spending money he does not have, which constantly worries his levelheaded wife Constanze (Elizabeth Berridge). This dichotomy between the couple is beautifully illustrated in the scene in which Constanze first meets Mozart's father, Leopold (Roy Dotrice): in order to hide his appalling financial situation from his oppressive father, Mozart proposes they go shopping and partying, ignoring Constanze's supplicating and reproaching calls of  "Wolfi!", his nickname, clearly worried about the sum they were about to squander. One just needs to take a quick look at the The Magic Flute to become fully aware of Mozart's regard for women's opinions...

Leopold was, the movie advocates, a suffocating presence in Mozart's life, symbolized by his portrait hanging high in Mozart's living room, his judgmental eyes always looking down on his son. The first time we see Leopold and Mozart (not the child Mozart, in the scene paid homage to in Immortal Beloved - 1994), Leopold is literally looking down at Mozart, standing at the top of the stairs, open arms beneath a black cloak; impossible not to think of Don Giovanni's Commendatore, and the movie itself reinforces this parallel. The death of his father completely cripples Mozart emotionally: with no one else to prove himself to and with this operas being box office failures due to Salieri's influence, he quickly descends into poverty and alcoholism, being forced to sell almost all his furniture to remain alive, culminating in the haunting scene in which Salieri carries him to his deathbed in Mozart's once luxurious, now empty apartment.

Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) examining Mozart's scores
F. Murray Abraham's Salieri steals the limelight in every scene he appears. We first see him covered in blood, throat slit open, writhing on the floor, with not enough time to be baffled by Dick Smith's stunning old age makeup. It's not until a priest (Herman Meckler) comes to hear his confession that we are able to marvel at every little detail in old Salieri's face and hands, illusion brought even forth to life thanks to Abraham's meticulous acting. He then tells about the irony of being left alive to see his music fading into obscurity while Mozart's lived on, and of God's cruelty of giving him the talent to recognize the greatness in Mozart, being him thus fully aware of how mediocre he himself was. Abraham's voice is so full of sadness, his face is so full of anguish and sorrow, it is impossible not to empathize with his Salieri. This is also partially due to Peter Shaffer's inspired script, which contains some of the most beautiful description of music I have ever heard, as such:
"On the page it looked nothing. The beginning simple, almost comic. Just a pulse - bassoons and basset horns - like a rusty squeezebox. Then suddenly - high above it - an oboe, a single note, hanging there unwavering, till a clarinet took over and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight! [...] This was a music I'd never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing, it had me trembling."
Now imagine yourself listening to that description from the lips of someone whose voice abounds love and admiration, whose face craves desperately for a similar talent, while the music in question plays in the background. It is as haunting as it sounds.

Mozart in his deathbed, dictating his requiem to Salieri
As a matter of fact, every time a music score is in first plane, we hear the corresponding music as playing inside the heads of the people handling it. Besides being a great artifice to expose the audience to even more of Mozart's music, this is crucial in some scenes. Salieri's despair becomes much more palpable when we can hear the music playing in his head as he leafs through Mozart's scores. Also, the final scene between Mozart and Salieri, when the former is dictating his requiem to the latter in his deathbed, would be incomprehensible without this contrivance. The way this scene has been assembled by Miloš Forman, we can understand perfectly why only Salieri, a fellow musician, would be able to help Mozart by taking notes. Furthermore, we are able to see the thirst with which Salieri drinks Mozart's notes, extracting as much music from Mozart's feverish brain as he possibly can. As he plans on assuming the authorship of the requiem, he must have been very proud in actually taking part in creating it, even as a mere scribe. Not to mention, it is very clever that the movie does not show the cause of Mozart's death; after all, the story is being told by Salieri, and he couldn't care less about Mozart's well-being...

In regard to the supporting cast, I really enjoyed Count Orsini-Rosenberg's (Charles Kay) constantly disapproving gaze towards Mozart, making an excellent counterpart to Kappelmeister Bonno's (Patrick Hines) almost idiotic grin. Jeffrey Jones is also commendable as Emperor Joseph II, barely able to contain his curiosity and excitement face to Mozart's genius.

A sample of Theodor Pištěk's costume design
Complimented by the beautiful locations in Prague, Theodor Pištěk's costume design is a spectacle in itself. Every scene at the court is a feast for the eyes, with the masked ball being so otherworldly it is hard to even describe it. The feat in his design was not only to make the scenes in the rich parts of Vienna stand out, but also to design lavishing-while-on-budget costumes for the members of the poorer Freihaus-Theater auf der Wieden, where The Magic Flute was first performed. Also extremely commendable is the clever editing work by Nena Danevic and Michael Chandler. I specially like they way they superposed Salieri's facial expressions in old and young age, in addition to the canny sound cues they used to link scenes, as in when Mozart has the inspiration for Der Hölle Rache by listening to his mother-in-law complaining.

Unfortunately, Peter Shaffer's Oscar-winning script is not without its flaws. I can accept Constanze having a "bad feeling" while at the spa and then going back home to what would be Mozart's final moments; what I do not accept is the way the Mozart's maid subplot was handled. Mozart had been writing Le nozze di Figaro in secret, as it was based on a play banned by the emperor. His plan was to keep it a secret until the opera was finished, so people would be so dazzled by his work they would not pay attention to the prohibition. However, the day after the arrival of his maid, a woman he knew nothing about, his much protected secret, which he did not reveal even to his possessive father, ended up in the ears of the emperor. Yet, he did not once suspected his maid, with the matter promptly forgotten after one single scene!!! Just a mention of Mozart's firing the maid, or simply her not appearing any longer in the movie (as all her scenes after her causing Mozart's secret to leak are disposable), and it would be a nearly flawless script...

Summarizing it:
LikedDidn't like
F. Murray Abraham is absolutely astonishingThe maid subplot should have ended earlier
Dazzling costume design byTheodor Pištěk

Some of the best old-age makeup I have ever seen on film:



Great Movie review by Roger Ebert here.

If you liked this movie, then maybe try watching Stephen Frears's Dangerous Liaisons (1988).

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