
Amadeus
Amadeus: When God’s Favorite Composer Was His Least Favorite Human
Meet Antonio Salieri, a man who had the misfortune of being a pretty good composer in the same era as a certifiable genius. It’s like being a decent amateur juggler who has to follow someone juggling chainsaws while riding a unicycle. Blindfolded.
The film opens with elderly Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) attempting suicide while screaming apologies to Mozart for murdering him. This leads to him being committed to an asylum, where he tells his story to a young priest who probably wasn’t expecting his day to include a feature-length confession about musical jealousy and divine betrayal.
Through Salieri’s incredibly biased narration, we meet Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce), whose laugh sounds like a hyena that just discovered nitrous oxide. Mozart arrives in Vienna as the most talented brat in musical history – a genius composer who also happens to be a giggling, cursing, drinking manchild with a thing for potty humor. Imagine if you combined Einstein’s brain with a frat boy’s personality, then gave him a wig.
Salieri, who has dedicated his life to God and music (in that order), can’t handle the fact that the Almighty has chosen to give his divine gift to this “obscene child.” It’s like watching someone who spent decades practicing their craft get upstaged by a natural talent who doesn’t even bother to warm up. Mozart composes masterpieces the way most people doodle – without effort and often while doing something else entirely.
The film follows Mozart’s career in Vienna, where he manages to offend pretty much everyone who could help his career. He’s commissioned to write an opera, and decides the perfect subject would be a comedy about life in a harem, because nothing says “court approval” like sexual innuendo in Turkish costumes. Meanwhile, Salieri plots Mozart’s downfall while simultaneously being the only person who truly appreciates the genius he’s trying to destroy.
Mozart’s life starts to unravel faster than a cheap wig. His father dies (appearing later as a terrifying figure in a mask to commission the Requiem), his wife Constanze (Elizabeth Berridge) leaves him, and he’s reduced to teaching piano lessons to “squealing children” for money. Salieri, seeing his chance, disguises himself as Mozart’s dead father and commissions a Requiem Mass, planning to steal it and reveal it as his own composition at Mozart’s funeral – because nothing says “mentally stable” like planning to premiere your stolen masterpiece over your rival’s dead body.
The film builds to Mozart racing against time and his own deteriorating health to complete the Requiem, while Salieri pretends to help him while actually helping him die faster. It all culminates in one of cinema’s greatest sequences, as Mozart dictates his Requiem from his deathbed to Salieri, who writes it down while probably thinking “I could have written this… okay, no I couldn’t.”
The Verdict
What I Love:
- F. Murray Abraham making musical jealousy into high art
- Tom Hulce’s laugh, which should have gotten its own Oscar nomination
- The most beautiful soundtrack in film history (thanks, Wolfgang)
- Costume design that makes modern fashion weeks look understated
- MiloÅ¡ Forman’s direction making classical music sexy before it was cool
What Could’ve Been Better:
- Might make you feel bad about quitting those piano lessons
- Will definitely affect your ability to listen to “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” without giggling
- Could make you question every gift you thought God gave you
“Amadeus” is less about historical accuracy and more about the agony of being second-best in a field you’ve dedicated your life to. It’s like a sports movie where the antagonist is the narrator, God is the referee, and Mozart is that guy who shows up without training and breaks all the records.
Rating: 5 out of 5 powdered wigs
P.S. – After watching this, you might want to listen to Mozart’s Requiem. Just don’t commission one yourself.