Celebrating its 40th anniversary, Amadeus remains an epic and psychological masterpiece, exploring the rivalry between Salieri and Mozart with unparalleled depth.
With Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Ghostbusters and The Beverly Hills Cop, it’s hard to find a place among the great films of 1984. It’s even harder to find a place among the year’s critical and commercial successes when you’re talking about a three-hour historical film centred on Antonio Salieri’s obsessive and destructive relationship with Mozart. Yet Amadeus overcame all these obstacles to become a box-office success, winning eight Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director for Miloš Forman. To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the release of the director’s masterpiece, let’s take a look back at what makes the film such an epic and timeless classic.
At the heart of Amadeus is a rivalry between Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham), a successful composer in the service of Emperor Joseph II, and Mozart (Tom Hulce), whose precociousness and virtuosity attracted all the courts. Peter Shaffer’s script brilliantly reimagines the historical characters to create a deeply psychological story. While Mozart is presented as the epitome of effortless genius, Salieri is the most complex character. Convinced that he has made a pact with God to become the greatest composer, he is consumed with jealousy at seeing his talent and fame relegated to the background by the young Mozart. Salieri’s recognition of Mozart’s brilliance only amplified his bitterness at his own mediocrity. Having dedicated his life to music, he refused to see his glory snatched away so easily by a young prodigy. Shaffer’s writing is a study in contradictions : Mozart’s crassness and immaturity contrast with his divine talent, while Salieri’s reverence for the art of composition clashes with his reputation and hatred for the young man. Forman also contrasts the glitz and glamour of court life with Mozart’s chaotic, vulgar personality – heavy on drinking and partying – and his inability to resist ridiculing the court’s worldly obsessions :
« Come on now, be honest! Which one of you wouldn’t rather listen to his hairdresser than Hercules ? Or Horatius, or Orpheus… people so lofty they sound as if they shit marble! ».[1]
The entire narrative is orchestrated like a story Salieri tells to a young cleric visiting the psychiatric hospital. His narration – presented as a confession of his crimes against Mozart – lends the film a Shakespearean weight, transforming the plot into a tragic moral parable about the dangers of envy, pride and ambition.
Miloš Forman’s direction brings Shaffer’s script to life with an elegant blend of theatricality and intimacy. The film is grandiose in its depiction of 18th-century Vienna, with sumptuous sets, always flourishing with details and objects, and exquisite costumes that capture the opulence of the period. The filmmaker combines these elements in scenes of receptions and parties, where he uses wide lenses to convey the grandeur of the receptions and the lavishness of the parties. The lighting is perfectly controlled, similar to Stanley Kubrick’s pictorial framing in Barry Lyndon. But while Amadeus is epic in scope, its most powerful moments come from quieter scenes of contemplation and tension. Salieri’s silent reactions to Mozart’s work, as he leafs through his compositions secretly brought to him by Constanze, leave no room for anything but music. They convey an almost fanatical admiration and an internal conflict that words could never express. The mainstay of the work, Mozart’s compositions are used to elevate the decisive scenes, but also to make them become a character. When Mozart is relentlessly writing his requiem, the music takes over all his other senses; he can no longer hear Constanze or the man knocking on the door of his flat, only his composition, which seems to take control of his mind. His gift is also the cause of his troubles. Caught in a vicious circle of alcohol and ceaseless creation, Mozart gradually abandoned or pushed aside everyone around him, leaving him at the mercy of all his torments, and of Salieri. Ray Morton adds:
« The film is a joyous tribute to Mozart and sparked an interest to his music so great that the movie’s soundtrack reached #1 on Billboard’s pop charts, the first and only time a classical album ever accomplished that feat »[2]
The casting of Amadeus is also equal to the nuance of its story. F. Murray Abraham’s interpretation of Salieri, for which he won the Oscar for Best Actor, brilliantly conveys the character’s inner turmoil while maintaining a façade of dignity. His evolution from devoted servant of God to antagonist and plotter is rendered with such depth that you can’t help but feel empathy for him, despite his evil deeds. Tom Hulce, also nominated for Best Actor at the Oscars, plays a Mozart whose energy is so infectious and whose laughter so disconcerting that it’s hard to believe that genius could take such an immature and crude form. Yet Hulce manages to show the vulnerability and passion that lie beneath the surface and remind us that genius can take unexpected forms.
40 years after its release, Amadeus remains as bewitching as ever. After being a commercial success in cinemas, the film was a triumph for over twenty years on VHS and then on DVD in its 180-minute Director’s Cut version. To mark this new anniversary, the film has been given a new, reworked 4K edition. All the more reason to immerse yourself in Forman’s film and Mozart’s triumphant and tragic life.
[1] Miloš Forman, Amadeus, Orion Pictures, 1984, 94e minutes.
[2] MORTON Ray, Amadeus : Film on Music Series, Limelight Editions, 2011, p. 4.
Leave a Reply