Riveting and visually stunning biopic.

Rating: 10/10 (31 July 2006)

The first time I heard of this movie was in an episode of The Simpsons. In one scene, Marge tells her kids about Mozart's life, only to be criticized by Lisa for using Milos Forman's Amadeus as a source, since said film supposedly contains few true things. That may be the case, but as long as Amadeus remains one of the best motion pictures I've ever seen, why should I care?
Amadeus is a beautiful film, which deservedly won the Best Picture and Director Oscars for 1984. Most of its genius is to be found in Milos Forman's ability not to be distracted by the vastness and splendor of the production design and the costumes and focus on the intriguing plot and well constructed characters.
This is obvious already in the beginning, which is one of the best ever filmed. We see a priest enter an asylum to speak to Antonio Salieri (Academy Award-winner F. Murray Abraham), once a famous composer, now a disgraced and abandoned madman. When the two meet, Salieri starts playing the piano to test the priest's musical knowledge. After two failed attempts, he finally finds something the churchman recognizes, as the latter eagerly says: "Oh, that's charming! I'm sorry, I didn't know you wrote it". Salieri's answer? "I didn't. That was Mozart. Wolfgang... Amadeus... Mozart...". And so the story begins, told in flashback by the Italian composer.
Mozart himself doesn't actually appear until about 17 minutes into the film. In fact, the strings are constantly pulled by Salieri, who starts his narration by recalling his difficult childhood and his prayer to God that he be allowed to spread His will through music. Naturally, such a thing doesn't happen. That privilege is awarded to young Mozart (Tom Hulce), who's in Vienna to perform for the Emperor (Jeffrey Jones). Imagine Salieri's surprise when he discovers that such talent can be found in a kid. Imagine his total astonishment when he realizes the "enfant prodige" from Salzburg is in reality a foul-mouthed, rude womanizer. The shock is too much for the envious Italian who, despite recognizing and admiring the perfection and superiority of the rival's work, vows to destroy him by any means necessary.
The movie was shot almost entirely on location in Forman's home-town Prague, which perfectly captures the magic, but also the low points, of Mozart's life: from marvelous palaces and theaters to distasteful "night-clubs", Amadeus is a visual roller-coaster, never letting the eye rest amidst the settings of many fascinating (and shocking) events, events that form a haunting tale of jealousy and bitterness, masterfully incarnated by Abraham, a very talented actor who has sadly been confined to supporting parts ever since (his best post-Amadeus work? The Inquisitor in The Name of the Rose). Shame, because he has all the right qualities to carry an entire film. Also unjustly forgotten after this movie is Tom Hulce, who succeeds in making the great Austrian musician look like an annoying, occasionally drunk, constantly laughing (oh, that laughter is terrible) brat.
Few films, particularly biopics, manage to stay interesting for all their running time. Luckily Amadeus is such a film: at almost three hours, it's consistently captivating, inspired and inspiring.