Amadeus (Director’s Cut): Review
THE MAN… THE MUSIC… THE MADNESS… THE MURDER… THE MOTION PICTURE…
Charpy’s favorite film tied with GODZILLA VS. HEDORAH (Yoshimitsu Banno)
Genre: Period/biographical drama
Release Year: Original cut (1984), Director’s Cut (2002)
MPAA Rating: R
Director: Miloš Forman
Content Warnings: brief nudity, crude humor, curse words, and some violence
Personal Rating: 14+ (acceptable for high school freshmen)
This review contains spoilers.
Not all composers are created equal—and neither are all movies.
Miloš Forman's Amadeus is a masterpiece for which my 14-year-old self was unprepared. This powerful period drama is the only three-hour film I can sit through without need for intermission—the director's cut simply does not have too many notes.
To the uninitiated, it may appear frivolous and daunting, but Amadeus is a refreshingly simple story grounded in the gripping woes of its characters. It follows the dramatized and sensationalized career of Viennese composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart who, in the film, unknowingly kindles a storm of hatred in older peer Antonio Salieri.
Based on Peter Shaffer's Broadway play of the same name, Amadeus offers a stirring story of divine intervention and the fierce one-sided struggle between one man's brilliance and another man's mediocrity—served up in a sumptuous audiovisual composition. Food for the eyes and a symphony for the soul; that is Miloš Forman's delightful take on Mozart's life.
The Broadway play
Introduction
It opens with the plaintive cry, "Mozart! Forgive your assassin!" Echoing through the night as a house comes into view. A pair of servants uncover the tortured soul in his quarters, a bloodied and elderly Antonio Salieri, who trembles before collapsing from self-inflicted wrist cuts. Following this, Salieri is locked away in an asylum. He receives a visit from Father Vogler. The priest has heard of the old man's bold assertions that he killed Mozart and has come to offer God's redemption.
Once he settles into Salieri's room, Father Vogler is asked about his musical education. Puzzled, he answers Salieri's questions, and Salieri proceeds to play his old pieces for the priest on his piano. Father Vogler watches, perturbed, as Salieri basks in the rolling applause of ages past and appears quite confused about why the man is asking this.
Antonio Salieri
"Can you recall no melody of mine?" The composer moans when Father Vogler states he does not know the pieces Salieri has played. The priest doesn't recognize anything until Salieri plays the opening notes of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, which Vogler eagerly fills in.
Excited that he finally recognizes Salieri's music, he cries, "Oh, that's charming! I'm sorry, I didn't know you wrote that." A wry smile crosses Salieri's weathered face, and he answers, "I didn't. That was Mozart. Wolfgang... Amadeus... Mozart."
Thus begins the slowly unraveling confession of a withered madman who was once, by his estimation, "The most famous composer in Europe."
Disclaimers
It is important to note that Amadeus takes considerable creative liberties in portraying Mozart and Salieri's lives. The film emphasizes drama and supernatural interference, culminating in a tragedy that probably did not occur. However, it was not intended to be accurate, according to both Schaffer and Forman.
Amadeus blends a sufficient amount of facts with fiction and successfully crafts a profoundly moving tale of jealousy, rivalry, religiosity, and divinity while celebrating Mozart's music. Its people-centered plot, married with deliciously caricature-esque characters and injections of multiple flavors of humor, makes it accessible to everyone. There's no need for a musical education or serious knowledge of the composers within to appreciate the story.
I have never watched a movie where I loved every single character, from the sophisticated and conflicted Salieri to the cackling, boyish genius, Mozart, to the tone-deaf emperor and Mozart's dog-obsessed clients (whose daughter he refuses to continue tutoring). This three-hour film never suffers a dull moment, and every time I've viewed it, it has been a treat. More than a movie, Amadeus, for me, is an experience.
In this review, I will explain why Amadeus is my favorite film (tied with Yoshimitsu Banno's Godzilla Vs. Hedorah) and the excellence of its storytelling craft. This movie embodies what I aspire to create every time I sit down at my computer. Perhaps I will achieve a story that approaches something of Miloš Forman's brilliance one day, but for now, I will study—and share—what makes Amadeus so wonderfully good.
Plotting the Rest of the Notes
Amadeus spotlights the semi-fictional story of Maestro Antonio Salieri, court composer for Emperor Joseph II of Austria. Since his boyhood, Salieri longed to be a musician, but his rigid father disapproved of his inclination. As Salieri begins his lengthy confession to Father Vogler, he muses, "How could I tell him what music meant to me?"
To Father Vogler, he explains, "While my father prayed earnestly to God to protect commerce, I would offer up, secretly, the proudest prayer a boy could think of... '"Lord, make me a great composer. Let me celebrate Your glory through music... and be celebrated myself. Make me famous throughout the world, dear God... make me immortal."'
In the present, Salieri's face tightens with longing as he looks heavenward in his room before the priest, remembering the perfervid prayer of his youth.
Salieri bargains his chastity in return for God's favor, and shortly afterward, in a stroke of apparent fortune, his father dies. A children's choir sings a round of "Amens" (a subtle play of cheekiness on the director's part) over the scene and that of his father's funeral.
Later, Salieri comes to work for Emperor Joseph II as his court composer in Vienna. He remarks that Emperor Joseph, an occasional musical pupil of his, "had no ear at all." Salieri asks the priest if his sudden change of fortune wasn't by God's hands.
"I was a model of virtue," he explains. "I kept my hands off women. I worked hours every day teaching students, many of them for free. Sitting on endless committees to help poor musicians. Work, and work, and work, that was all my life. And it was wonderful. Everybody liked me. I liked myself..."
A warm smile blooms on his face, and the priest's face lights, too.
Then Salieri adds, "Until he came."
Father Vogler's smile drops, and the terrible tale continues.
Mozart and Constanze
Salieri recalls his first encounter with Mozart in a professional setting when Mozart comes to play for the Prince-Archbishop of Salzburg in Vienna. Salieri goes looking for him and discovers that the boy who wrote his first concerto at age four is, in fact, not much more mature than that tender age.
Salieri finds him rather unbecomingly chasing a lady under the table in one of the unoccupied rooms. He discovers that "talent like that"—of Mozart's caliber—is not necessarily written on the face. Salieri watches Mozart, with no pretenses of sophistication, drop to the floor and wrestle with the lady on the ground as he spouts sentences that form crude phrases backward.
"Emiram," cries the young composer after he's had his share of spelling out curse words.
His future wife, Constanze, decodes this to mean "Marry me," and although writhing around on the floor while you're several minutes late for your performance for a ruler isn't the most usual proposal, Salieri will learn that nothing about Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is normal—from his fiendish behavior to his wild, braying laugh.
Realizing he has missed his music, Mozart sprints into the gathering before the prince archbishop and casually takes up conducting the first song—which has started without him—to the glares and concerned looks of everyone present.
"That... was Mozart," present-day Salieri says disgustedly. "That giggling, dirty-minded creature I'd just seen crawling on the floor."
But Salieri's disdain and hatred still have much germinating to do; the dirty-minded Mozart has yet to bring his filth over other things Salieri loves.
Salieri's first glance at Mozart's sheet music has him reeling. Of it, he tells the priest, "And then, suddenly, high above it... an oboe. A single note hanging there, unwavering... until a clarinet took it over... sweetened it into a phrase of such delight."
Salieri recalls Mozart's creation with starry eyes.
"This was no composition by a performing monkey. This was a music I had never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing. It seemed to me that I was hearing the voice of God."
In the memory, Salieri's face contorts into a desperate, almost weeping expression as he revels in the beauty of Mozart's work.
"Why would God choose an obscene child to be his instrument?" He laments in the present. "It was not to be believed."
At this point, the initial seed of jealousy has been firmly planted. The rivalry does not begin until the emperor invites Mozart to his dwelling to put on a concert for him. It is Mozart's initial moments in Salieri's presence that curdles more of Salieri's appreciation for him.
The first burn comes when the emperor is tapping out the notes of Salieri's "march of welcome" for Mozart on a piano. Comically, the emperor cannot play the tune himself. As he struggles to plot out the notes for Mozart's entrance, it seems to complement Mozart's offbeat personality as if the court is ushering in madness. Indeed, the young composer's entrance is a stumbling one. Salieri, frustrated, tries to walk the emperor through the performance before he comes.
Salieri and Mozart's introduction conveys the contrasts between the two men. Salieri's bow is measured and slow, as are his delicate hand gestures, whereas Mozart bows far too deeply and uses much broader gestures when speaking—to say nothing of the zany grin cutting across his face.
Salieri and Mozart are cut from opposite cloths as composers. Their only apparent similarity is their love for music, but Salieri, as he comes to discover, is not "mad" enough to achieve Mozart's genius.
Young Salieri meets Mozart…
… while Mozart “fixes” Salieri’s welcome march.
Their introduction sets the proverbial stage for their rivalry: Salieri is thoughtful, distinguished, and intellectual. Mozart is much different in both mannerisms and temperament. Salieri's sophistication does not yield the same excellence as Mozart's madness because he is too rigid, too educated, and refined to "color outside the lines," as it were. Mozart does not command respect, but he does command attention. This is something the "stuffy," devoutly religious Salieri cannot compete with.
He will learn much more about this in time.
Mozart, from "one hearing" of Salieri's welcome march, proceeds to mock the esteemed maestro in front of the entire room—including the emperor—by playing the song, remarking on its simplicity, and stating how a part of it "doesn't really work." Salieri's face falls, and his heart begins to chill against his young counterpart as he modifies his work on the spot with all the tact of a slap to the face. Of course, he's grinning all the way and ends it with a wild laugh. Angrily, Salieri later remarks to the cross on his wall, "Grazie, Signore." His love for God is withering.
The hatred is sinking in its claws now and will not be shaken loose.
Salieri begins to question why God would "implant the desire" to create music, "like a lust in his body," only to make him "mute." He despises Mozart's antics, but the way he seduces Salieri's female pupils, who he dares not touch himself, and wins affection for his music causes the hatred to inflame.
He prays for hours that God would send Mozart back to Salzburg, "for his sake, as well as mine." He admits that this was the beginning of his murderous thoughts.
Mozart's arrogance becomes apparent when he is asked to submit samples of his work to obtain an influential position with Emperor Joseph II. He believes he is the best composer in Vienna and calls all Italian composers "musical idiots." Frustrated by his insolence and worried about their financial situation if Mozart doesn't get the job, his wife Constanze comes to Salieri with samples of Mozart's work.
Curious about his methods, Salieri inquires whether Mozart is lazy or what would make her so desperate to bring his music in behind his back. Constanze says Mozart "works all day long," but he spends more than he makes because he is impractical. Constanze has to pick up the slack for him.
Salieri seizes an opportunity to humiliate the composer by feigning interest in soliciting sexual favors from Constanze in exchange for him putting in a good word with the emperor. Instead, he has her escorted out after she removes her top.
Following this incident, Salieri burns the cross he has always prayed to and vows he will block God and "hinder and harm His creature," Mozart. Salieri then tells the emperor that Mozart molested his singer pupil, whom Salieri loved, ensuring Mozart doesn't win the appointment within the court.
This blockage damages Mozart's financial stability.
Constanze caves to Salieri’s demands
Meanwhile, Mozart's overbearing father, Leopold, surprises the young composer at his home in ominous garb. His father frowns upon his wife sleeping late into the day and not cooking or cleaning for Mozart. Mozart, eager to impress his father, lies about his financial situation and insists he's doing well. In reality, the couple has a lot of debt.
"I don't want pupils," he tells his father when Leopold Mozart asks about them. "They get in the way. I have to have time for composition."
Leopold asks Mozart to come home
Young Mozart, desperate to relieve some of the tension, drags Leopold to parties where he angers his father with his lack of class and brazen vulgarity. One glare at Mozart from under Leopold's mask makes the young lad terrified. He insists his behavior is "just a game."
Mozart acts very childishly, literally jumping up and down and demanding "a penalty" from his father for his uncouth behavior in the game. Salieri watches this unfold behind his own mask, a silently looming figure overseeing the young talent's social gracelessness. The disguised Salieri asks Mozart to "play Salieri." Mozart proceeds to mock his dour expression and simple music in front of everyone before flatulating loudly.
"That was God laughing at me through that obscene giggle," Salieri explains to Father Vogler in the present.
Salieri is burned by his mediocrity being scorned to the cheers of everyone around him.
Meanwhile, Salieri pays for a maid to come to Mozart's house so he can spy on Mozart's life through her. Constanze is outraged that Mozart's father cannot be satisfied with anything she and Mozart do. Dreamily, Mozart retreats to his compositions to tune out the arguments between his wife and father as music blooms over them.
The Final Act
The plot begins to darken after this. The rich drama for which Amadeus is known intensifies as the envy-consumed Salieri slowly destroys Mozart from a distance.
In real life, the urban legend is that Antonio Salieri poisoned Mozart, killing him. In the film, Salieri's poison is much more sinister. He employs devious tactics to ruin Mozart’s life, such as sabotaging his career, tormenting him by disguising himself as his father after Leopold dies to commission a requiem, and, in the end, helping the overworked and alcohol-poisoned young composer dictate the Requiem so he can claim it as his own once Mozart inevitably dies.
Salieri disguised as Leopold to commission the Requiem Mass
Salieri's rejection of God in the pursuit of decimating his rival makes him something of a murderer. His constant efforts to deny Mozart work and keep him impoverished—invigorating his alcoholism and forcing him to work much harder to stay alive—eventually kills the young man. Salieri callously forces Mozart to dictate his Requiem Mass after Mozart collapses during a concert while Salieri jots the notes down. He cares nothing for Mozart's suffering—nor that of his wife and young son—but continues to marvel, enviously, at Mozart's genius as he records.
A sickly Mozart dictates the Requiem Mass to Salieri
Mozart pales and slowly dies as Salieri works him long into the night, not allowing Mozart, who is desperate to rest, to close his eyes. He is only stopped when Constanze enters the room the next morning and orders him to leave. Shortly afterward, an exhausted Mozart passes away in his bed. Salieri concludes that God killed Mozart to deny him the opportunity to claim Mozart's Requiem for his own, a final slap in his face.
The film returns to the present. Father Vogler is horrified by the cold and calculated methods young Salieri used to slowly murder his brilliant rival. His stunned silence gives the impression that Salieri cannot be redeemed. Salieri mocks his apparent refusal to reconcile him to God and pledges to be his patron saint and that of all "mediocrities." As he is wheeled out of his room and through the asylum, he proclaims, "Mediocrities everywhere... I absolve you!" And the film finishes with a final round of Mozart's mad laughter.
“Mediocrities everywhere… I absolve you.” Salieri, the patron saint of mediocrity.
Analyzing the Leads
What Amadeus lacks in historical accuracy, it more than makes up by weaving together a rich and evocative drama. And, since it was intended to be a "fantasia" of Mozart's life, I, like many people, am in it for the story.
The one-sided rivalry between a goofy, giggling genius and a scheming, sophisticated man whose only dream was to be a gifted composer is painful.
Viewers can't help but sympathize with Salieri's plight as much as the man he actively works to destroy. This is because Salieri's honesty and horror at watching his dream crumble are so masterfully written.
Salieri and Mozart, played respectively by F. Murray Abraham and Tom Hulce, are among my favorite fictional characters of all time. I adore them together in this film as polar opposites and find myself connecting with both of them.
With Salieri, I understand and relate to his faith devotion, desire for dreams to be fulfilled, willingness to sacrifice certain longings for loftier things (the arts), and, as a musician myself, a yearning to create beautiful, lasting compositions. I may enjoy Salieri even more than Mozart because of the uniqueness of following this dark drama through his eyes.
I have a definite appreciation for wicked/fallen protagonists. When they're so authentic and share such strong characteristics of mine, I love them all the more. Salieri is a delightful and unparalleled villain and is easily one of my favorites.
I also relate to Mozart—a lot.
Can I concoct entire symphonies in my head and then transcribe them perfectly onto paper with no corrections? Certainly not. Was I writing concertos at four? Not that I recall!
But I have been making music for a long time, and it started in my youth. I've been told I have a natural ear for music, and I first started hearing this around age twelve when I'd pound out the Jurassic Park and Mothra themes on my grandmother's piano. At 14, I started making digital music and created over a hundred songs. I was told I had some talent in that area. I then went on to write synth covers for Godzilla songs, which my YouTube subscribers enjoyed.
From ages 15 to 19, I wrote music for my first novel, Daughter Darkness, which eventually formed a full-fledged, hour-long soundtrack released in celebration of the book's publication. It attracted thoughtful comments from listeners who seemed to understand the moods and messages conveyed in each piece perfectly, so I considered it a success.
As long as I can remember, I've treasured music as a form of connecting to a higher power (God) and storytelling. No art form is more unifying, diverse, and emotionally stirring than music. It requires no literacy to appreciate and none to create, and its power spans continents and cultures.
Thus, Mozart's marriage to his work, something he enjoys and navigates much better than his relationships with people, resonates with me. His tendency to become lost in his music and his relentlessness while writing it reminds me of the many times I've stayed up far too late making songs of my own. Like Mozart, I've spent hours pouring time into one piece in an unbreakable current of "flow." Like Mozart, I love music and take it very seriously. And like Mozart, I also have a bit of a "crazy" streak that makes me come across as eccentric, even "too much" to others—whether I am or not.
Few characters in Amadeus take Mozart seriously because of his eccentricities. His proclivity for inappropriate humor, laughing at unsuitable times, child-like (and sometimes outright childish) approach to life and work, and immense impracticality make him both irritating and endearing. And, funnily enough, I relate to a lot of his awkwardness and bumbling mannerisms.
This is why Mozart is one of my all-time favorite characters; I see so much of myself in him sans the genius. We have similar struggles in life, similar interests, and hopes, and are similarly dismissed because of the aforementioned... less pleasant traits. I adore him in this film, especially contrasted with the firm and unwavering Salieri. Mozart is wonderfully charming; it brings me to tears every time he passes away.
Character Excellence
Mozart and Salieri aren't the only brilliant characters in Amadeus. Most of them are, and each one impeccably fulfills their role.
Constanze's mother is a fun example. Boisterous and brash, she interrupts Mozart's conversation with the emperor to introduce everyone to Constanze and announce her engagement to Mozart. She then faints after very obviously attempting to flirt with the emperor.
Constanze herself is a well-developed character. She is devoted and she makes things happen when Mozart falls behind on practical matters. Her commitment to him is confirmed when Salieri bribes her into doing a "service" for him in exchange for helping Mozart. She doesn't want to do it, but she agrees to it if it will get her husband the position he wants. Despite her youth and inexperience—not to mention her marriage to a very unstable man—Constanze is a wonderful wife.
Father Vogler, while not a very active character, perfectly voices unspoken things with his facial expressions. You can see every inch of his fear, horror, disgust, and disturbance at Salieri's recollections. He utilizes his role as a listener as fully as possible, making for an amusing and relatable character to follow while Salieri tells his story.
The masked Salieri, though not technically a new character, comes across as one with his dark attire and towering figure. The disguise actually reveals his true self—a dark and devious agent of destruction. He communicates the dread and doom that will soon befall young Mozart and strikes genuine terror in his heart. Each appearance draws us closer to Mozart's looming demise... and further into the shadows darkening the plot.
There really isn't a single character in Amadeus that sags. Everybody plays an important part, no matter how small, and they are woven effectively into the story.
The exaggeration of the characters' personalities makes for a sublimely charming watch. Because of how distinct they are, the characters command the plot. You can feel Salieri's longing when he picks up the pen Mozart uses to write his compositions. He holds it as if it is a divine instrument unworthy of Salieri's touch. Every conceivable emotion passes effortlessly across Tom Hulce's face as he plays Mozart, who frequently swings from one mental state to the next. Emperor Joseph II often looks thoughtful and sometimes unimpressed with Mozart's schemes, and his expressions when he chooses to indulge him are refined.
Overall, Amadeus excels at characters. Without their level of charm and authenticity, this movie would not be the masterpiece that it is.
How Appropriate Is It?
Some viewers may want to know whether this film really lives up to its MPAA rating.
Amadeus (the Director's Cut) is rated R and therefore may not be suitable for young children. This is up to parental discretion. I first watched it at 14 and found it to be an inspiring and wonderful film, but people with strict rules against crude humor, some violence, attempted suicide, flashes of nudity, and the dark undertone of the story as it builds toward Mozart's death may dislike it. Amadeus is not geared toward children and is not necessarily a "feel-good" movie. What it is is deep, well-written, and very fun. It may make for a great family film for older relatives. Aside from the occasional inappropriate moments, it is safe and does not come across as an R-rated watch. However…
It Ends On A Sour Note.
My least favorite thing about Amadeus, which is partly what empowers the narrative, is the ending. The beginning of the film gives the impression that Antonio Salieri will repent for his wrongdoings and finally reconcile with God, but he misleads viewers and ends up revealing he regrets nothing he did—and if he does regret it, the remorse is buried deep inside him. Amadeus is not about forgiveness and second chances; it is about the dangers of envy, unnecessary rivalry, and rejecting the divine in favor of pursuing evil human desires (sabotaging and eventually killing one's enemies among them). Amadeus is a cautionary tale. Its conclusion may be upsetting to viewers, but I believe this was intentional for the story and reinforces its point.
Final Verdict:
Amadeus is a brilliant, must-see movie for cinephiles, from its cinematography to its plot, soundtrack, and characters. As a proclaimed "fantasia" of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's life, it triumphs. Its characters are fully realized and intelligent. Its plot is straightforward and simultaneously rich and compelling. Its reflection on human emotions, human destiny, and God's sovereign plans for each of us could not have been handled more poignantly.
Overall, Amadeus evokes a powerful sense of connection to what it means to be human in a world that is both painful and beautiful. This film elevates music to the level I believe it was always intended to be at and deepens my appreciation for the true masters of the craft in an age of mainstream muck. Amadeus fills me with longing for things I will not find in my mortal life. It transcends the boundaries of the screen and reaches into the hearts of those who are willing to bask in its wonder, and it exemplifies the very best of the storytelling craft.
It is for these reasons that I gladly award Amadeus a very well-earned five-star rating.
There was never another composer like Mozart in all the world... and there will never be another movie like Amadeus.
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
