Complex, powerful

Rating: 9/10 (31 January 2002)

The central premise of this film is remarkable in that, for its complexity, it remains remarkably powerful. In film, as in music, as in almost every realm of human experience, complexity and power are natural enemies. Complexity dilutes power.
The central premise of "Amadeus" concerns Salieri's motives for killing Mozart. [As an aside, whether or not Salieri killed Mozart in this film is utterly irrelevant... what's important is that Salieri wanted to kill him, hatched a plan, put the plan in motion, and Mozart died. Whether or not there is a causal link is entirely beside the point. Of course, whether or not Salieri killed Mozart in reality is even less relevant.] Of course, Salieri was jealous of Mozart's talent, but if that were all there was, it would be a poor film indeed. Salieri didn't want to attack Mozart (not directly, though certainly, this was involved). Salieri wanted to attack God. God, who had given Salieri an inexpressible longing to music, but had not given him the talent to pull it off. If one accepts this premise, it is very easy to accept Salieri's conclusion, that God is cruel, because to give a man an all-pervading desire and deny him the ability to achieve it is a great cruelty. Greater still to force him to watch it achieved by such a vulgar man as Mozart.
So, in this contest, the players are Salieri and God, and Mozart is just the battlefield. This is complex, and it is powerful. It is also, by virtue of its complexity, interesting. Fascinating. Compelling. More than justifying the running time of this magnificent film.

The performances are a bit uneven, though. F. Murray Abraham is superb as Antonio Salieri. His voice, his face, his posture, manner, all perfect.

The script is great. I've talked about the story, but the script also is masterful.
And the music. It's easy to talk about how great the music is, but be sure to notice, beyond that, how well the music is used. Any film can have great music... there's loads of it around, just find some and throw it in the film. But to use music to its fullest and best extent is something else. This film nails it. I'll never forget the bedroom transcription scene, when Salieri is helping Mozart with his Requiem. Brilliant. We hear each part, one at a time, and think "Oh, yes, that's quite good." But then, hearing it all together, it's a shock... a visceral, stomach clenching shock. And while hearing this incredibly powerful, yet complex (hmmm) music finally coming together, we see Frau Mozart's carriage returning her to Vienna. We have no specific reason to dread her return, but the music, so full of dread, prepares us masterfully for the final confrontation.

Ahh, a spectacular film which rewards every viewing. One for the ages. So few movies of true and lasting quality emerged from the culturally bankrupt 1980s. This is one to cherish for all time.