An intelligent, imaginative and slyly satirical study of the creative mind in all its ruthless glory

Rating: Null/10 (15 May 2008)

Milos Forman's adaptation of Peter Shaffer's award winning stage play of the life and ultimate downfall of composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce) and his difficult relationship with arch rival Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) is certainly something of a flawed work, albeit, one that is incredibly pleasant and engaging nonetheless. The principal focus of the film is on the character of Salieri, from his guilt ridden suicide attempt at the beginning of the film, through to the scenes in which he recounts his story to a priest from the confines of a mental hospital. From here, the film deals mainly with Salieri's crippling jealousy over the younger composer and the natural rivalry that intensifies between them, as Mozart's natural talent and flair for presentation finds him embraced by the Emperor (Jeffery Jones) and the people of Vienna.
As Mozart gains more and more success, it is Salieri's obsession to destroy the composer at any means necessary that drives the narrative further and further. Although you could argue that the whole thing is woefully inaccurate in a historical scene, you can't help but marvel at the film's style, wit and excellent period evocation. Shaffer's script fizzes with depth and amusing character quirks that should resonate with anyone who has some familiarly with the actual story at hand, while Forman's direction is close to Kubrick's greatest film Barry Lyndon (1975) in terms of scope, scale and detail. Here, the director is aided by cinematographer Miroslav Odericek's and his staggering use of composition and lighting, with the look, combined with the costume and production design evoking the true grimy beauty of the period.
There is also a great pace being maintained by the editing of the film, with some interesting juxtapositions between the worlds of these two composers, and the intelligent use of Salieri as the teller of the story, which opens the film up to ideas of the unreliable narrator, thus somewhat anarchically excusing itself from the more obvious inaccuracies. This all goes towards making Amadeus (1984) a fascinating character study with some wonderfully bawdy comedy and, unsurprisingly, that fantastic use of music. A great look at one man's shallow obsession to share his art with the people and god, but is overshadowed at every turn by a much greater talent, something he only realises too late.