Unforgettable!

Rating: 8/10 (4 July 2019)

In your life, or in your career, in your school or college, have you ever been through such an experience where you have always been overshadowed by someone's soaring personality; where, no matter how much you try, it is always not enough for you to beat, at least for once, that supremely talented rival of yours? Have you ever been a Dravid to a Tendulkar? A Platini to a Maradona? A Ben Jonson to a Shakespeare? Have you always been an "undisputed" second-boy of your time? Then you would perfectly understand Salieri's pain!
"Amadeus" is not about the genius of Mozart, but more about the envy of Salieri. It is a movie about the morally destructive nature of jealousy. Salieri, cursed with the talent of a second-rate composer but the ear of a first-rate music-lover, is constantly aware of the supremacy of the his competitor and his own mediocrity. This is the same awareness which leads him to extract the final masterpiece from the fevered brain of Mozart in his death-bed. But Salieri's love for music is more overpowering than his enmity to Mozart. A pious man, devoted his entire life to the service of man and God, while Mozart's has been one of excess and debauchery. Yet it is Mozart's music which is touched by God, and not Salieri's; and he knows this, and is tortured by this. He is not a traditional villain, but, at one point, almost a Shakespearean tragic figure, burdened with guilt, jealousy, and the belief that God has abandoned him.
"Your merciful God. He destroyed his own beloved, rather than let a mediocrity share in the smallest part of his glory. He killed Mozart. And kept me alive to torture. Thirty-two years of torture. Thirty-two years of slowly watching myself become extinct. My music growing fainter. All the time fainter...till no one plays it at all. And his..."
That's why the title "Amadeus"- not "Mozart" or "Salieri" -which means "Beloved of God", fitting perfectly with Salieri's view of Mozart as the chosen-one!
F. Murray Abraham's Academy Award winning performance seethes with a wannabe's ambition that is frustrated at every turn by his rival's sublime brilliance. His jealousy is devouring him from the inside like a cancer. Even in his smile, the conflict in his eyes can be envisaged- a constant tug-of-war between the desire to carry out his plan and the recognition that the world's greatest musical voice is about to be silenced. It is just Tom Hulce's misfortune, I think, to have been nominated opposite Abraham in the same category. His Mozart is a spoilt child in a grown man's body, striding heedlessly through the world, expecting it to conform to him, and living far beyond his means. He is as far behind everyone in social skills as he is ahead of them in music.
But few of us can identify with that kind of genius. Salieri, on the other hand, is someone we can see in ourselves, albeit our worst selves. Every frame of Abraham's performance reveals some new moment of humiliation - some fresh, sickening glimmer of anguish that feels all too familiar. His is the destiny of all mediocre talents in this world, thriving under the shade of some far-superior, a God-like contender, whose genius cannot be challenged or conquered, but only be appreciated with a sense of awe. Hence, Salieri's proclamation to the world:
"I will speak for you... I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint. Mediocrities everywhere...I absolve you. I absolve you. I absolve you. I absolve you. I absolve you all."