Evan D. As a project this year we are taking a trip through time to revisit all of the Best Picture winners in history, Wings to Anora. Amadeus is the fifty-seventh film in that series, to see all the other Best Picture reviews, click here. Great men and women have long provided fertile ground for Hollywood biopics. Winners of wars, innovators of science or business and, perhaps more than any other, luminaries of the arts. Titans of history are constantly having their stories told, but frequently the most excellent biopics dramatize the lives of the mediocre. This is certainly true of Milos Forman’s examination of Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) in Amadeus. Of course, Salieri — one of the most famous composers of his day — is far from mediocre by almost any definition. One of the few contexts in which his talent and impact could be diminished is in comparison to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce.) The prodigious German composer serves as foil and frequent rival to an increasingly exasperated and inadequate Salieri. Adapted from a play by Peter Shaffer, Amadeus is told through the eyes of a dying Salieri, in a deathbed confession that turns quickly into a digression about the path of his life and his contempt for his contemporary. In his telling, Salieri comes up from nothing, promising God his life in exchange for the talent and opportunity to become a great composer. He works his way up the ranks in Vienna, becoming a crucial confidant and court composer to Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones.) All the while he is consumed by curiosity and fascination with the beguiling talent of Mozart. When the pair eventually meet and Mozart is contracted by Joseph, Salieri discovers that the young composer he so admired was in person a vile, obscene and cocky man. Why would God choose to bestow such prodigal talent upon someone so hedonistic? Jealousy for his talent quickly sours into thinly veiled disgust. Yet Salieri cannot ever escape the fact that Mozart’s compositions are immaculate, almost divine. It drives him to renounce his faith and devote the remainder of his life to ruining God’s chosen composer. From start to finish, Amadeus is an absolute romp, headlined by two transcendent performances. Hulce plays Mozart with a grating exuberance so intense that it is surprising he isn’t constantly being decked in the face. It’s no wonder that Salieri is so thoroughly tormented by his professional inferiority to the man. That being the central tension is also a clever bit of storytelling. So often films examine characters for what they have and accomplish, using great achievement as a stand in for introspection. Here Forman focuses on what his characters lack and in doing so unlocks their insecurities and ambitions. Salieri is infinitely more interesting — and relatable! — for being the second fiddle, the composer who is good but never good enough. He dedicates his life to something that he can’t live up to and it drives him mad. On top of the biting humor and potent characterization, Amadeus is a tremendous piece of craft. The score deploys Mozart’s compositions with tactical brilliance, swelling just as the story requires. A period piece, the set design and costumes create a beautiful immersive setting. All around it is a delightful film. 10/10
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