Amadeus (Movie Review)

Through the dark, blizzard-swept streets of early nineteenth century Vienna, the plaintive cry of a tortured soul pierces the snow-riven night:

“Mozart! Mozart! Forgive your assassin, Mozart! I confess I killed you!” Forgive me, Mozart!”

…And thus begins the movie Amadeus, one of the most honored films of all times. Winner of 8 Academy Awards, including Best Picture (1984), Best Director (Milos Foreman), and Best Actor (F. Murray Abraham), this film is an adaptation of Peter Schaffer’s smash Broadway play of the same name. Based loosely on the life of the world’s greatest composer, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Amadeus is in every way one of the great cinematic masterpieces ever created.

Amadeus has absolutely everything that a great movie should: fabulous acting, a fascinating plot, the best music ever composed (mostly Mozart – ’nuff said), Peter Schaffer’s Academy Award® winning screenplay, and spectacular, Academy Award® winning sets and costumes.

The film’s story line is as fascinating as it is well told. It begins in the aftermath of the attempted suicide of Antonio Salieri, a late eighteenth century composer who was wildly popular in his day, but who has, since his death, been consigned to the dustbin of obscurity. In the film, Salieri (played by F. Murray Abraham), tortured by guilt over the premature death of his arch-rival Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, is confined to a Viennese mental institution. He is visited by a nondescript Catholic priest who offers to hear his confession.

Salieri’s “confession” is a reminiscence of his experiences with a young and vibrant Mozart, just as the musical prodigy bursts upon the Viennese musical scene as a composer in his own right. Mozart (played by Tom Hulce) is brought to the court of “The Music King,” Austrian Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones), and is offered a commission to compose a new opera. At the time of Mozart’s arrival, Salieri is the Emperor’s court composer. Mozart’s almost supernatural musical talents become immediately evident to Salieri and the musical coterie surrounding the emperor. Seeing their entrenched interests jeopardized, Salieri and his colleagues attempt to thwart Mozart at every turn, but the young genius’ talents are so prodigious that he succeeds in spite of all efforts to impede him. Salieri recognizes Mozart’s gifts as divine and is driven to a pathological envy of the younger man. He begins to plot Mozart’s death as a means of getting revenge against God for “making this obscene boy His instrument on earth,” while depriving Salieri of the same gift.

Did Antonio Salieri murder Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart? You’ll have to watch Amadeus to find out!

Artistically and technically, Amadeus is a veritable feast for the eyes and ears. The acting is simply brilliant throughout! F. Murray Abraham’s incredible Academy Award® winning portrayal of Antonio Salieri is as richly textured as any character I’ve ever seen brought to life in a movie. In this versatile actor’s hands, Salieri becomes a man who is at once suave, sly and subtle; the ultimate oleaginous politico in the labyrinthine political world of Austria’s “Music King;” a composer so consumed by his own ambitions, jealousies, and passions that he cannot stop himself from taking revenge on Mozart, and through Mozart, God.

Tom Hulce illuminates the screen in an equally tremendous, Academy Award® nominated performance as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Hulce strikes an almost a perfect balance between Mozart the loud, vulgar and immature man-child, and Mozart the serious musician, always supremely confident in his own abilities, and completely dedicated to his art.

Wonderful performances are also turned in by Jeffrey Jones as the elegant, enlightened, but autocratic Emperor Joseph II; Elizabeth Berridge as Mozart’s tender but tough-minded wife, Constanze; and Ray Dotrice as Leopold Mozart, Wolfgang’s domineering and possessive father.

But the true star of this magnificent film – never seen, but constantly heard – is Mozart’s music, always the music. From the movie’s dramatically dissonant opening chords, taken from Symphony No. 25, K. 183, to the deeply ethereal third movement of Serenade For Winds (Gran Partita), K. 361; from the gorgeously conciliatory Ah Tutti Contenti from Act IV of The Marriage Of Figaro, to the darkly tense and nightmarish “Commendatore” scene from Act II of Don Giovanni; from the grandeur and deep spirituality of Rex Tremendae, Confutatis, and Lacrimosa, (parts of Requiem, K. 626), to the peacefully idyllic second movement of Piano Concerto No. 20, K.466, which closes the film – Mozart’s music, masterfully played by the Academy of St. Martin-In-The-Fields (under the direction of Sir Neville Marriner), provides an indescribably delightful and sumptuous festival for the ears.

A word or two must be said at this point about the movie’s plot. Amadeus is not intended as a cinematic biography of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. In fact, great historical license is deliberately taken in this film. The entire premise of Amadeus – that Antonio Salieri plotted and carried out the murder of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – is one of the more fascinating grand speculations in history, one that’s been in existence almost since the day Mozart died. Most modern-day musicologists and historians dismiss claims of Salieri’s complicity in Mozart’s death out of hand. Mozart biographer Robert W. Gutman even goes so far as to term the idea “…an absurd and fashionable rumor.” (NOTE 1)

Because Amadeus is based upon a great “what if…?” rather than simple adherence to historical facts, it’s all the more more fun and interesting to watch than any straightforward film biography. Most written accounts of Mozart’s tragically abbreviated life make for fascinating reading, but very few, I suspect, would translate successfully onto the silver screen. The addition of an actual eighteenth century “conspiracy theory,” as romantic an embellishment as it may be, adds immeasurably to the film’s already considerable ability to thoroughly entertain viewers.

Amadeus became my all-time favorite movie on the day I first saw it in a theater in 1984. It so completely epitomizes my highest ideal of great cinematic entertainment that, even today, it reigns supreme at the top of my list of the greatest films ever produced!

Amadeus: The Director’s Cut (2002 DVD Release)

In 2002, Warner Brothers, director Milos Foreman, and the Saul Zaentz Company released Amadeus: The Director’s Cut on DVD. This highly anticipated enhanced version of Amadeus makes an already nearly “perfect” film even better. Twenty-two minutes of additional scenes are added to the theatrical release. Some added footage is only seconds in length; other additional scenes are several minutes long. All add key information to the story line and fill in some heretofore unexplained gaps.

But the biggest enhancements to Amadeus: The Director’s Cut are the technical improvements to the DVD itself. Gone is the old “flipper disc,” with its fuzzy images, washed-out color, and lifeless audio tracks. It’s been replaced by a single-sided, double-layer disc. Both the video and audio portions of the new version have been carefully digitally remastered. Audio tracks are now encoded in Dolby Digital 5.1 and 2.0; the digitally restored video is absolutely stunning. Colors are rich and vibrant, and video images are crisp and clear. A second “Special Features” disc is included, and it contains a fascinating two-hour “The Making Of Amadeus” documentary.

Amadeus: The Director’s Cut is a brilliant and well-deserved restoration that will in no way disappoint fans of this marvelous film, already a modern classic.

Other Movie Reviews by Mike Powers:O Brother, Where Art Thou? ; Apollo 13 ; The 5 Best Movies I’ve Ever Detested ; M*A*S*H ; Gandhi ; Young Frankenstein ; The Apostle