'Amadeus' returns in a crescendo of music, emotion
Early on in Milos Forman's wondrous 1984 Oscar-winner "Amadeus," Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) listens to a composition by rival Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce), played by a small orchestra in another room. And a small miracle happens — it's not just that Salieri hears Mozart's genius ("it seemed to me that I was hearing the voice of God," he says, awed), but he makes us hear it, too, with a sort of poetic play-by-play that lets us appreciate the music the way a composer would.
It's like the way Mariners announcer Dave Niehaus can make joyous art from a swift double-play — we experience a moment through someone else's senses, and it's thrilling.
Seeing "Amadeus" on the big screen again, after 18 years, is pure pleasure — it's a gloriously colorful confection of music, theater and emotion. Sir Peter Shaffer adapted his play for the screen, keeping the spareness of the dialogue intact. The flourishes here are in the music, in the gorgeously ornate look of the film and in Abraham's dark-eyed glower.
The story is simple, and only loosely based on the real lives of its characters. (Shaffer has called it "a fantasia based on fact.") Salieri, basking in the glory of his post as court composer to Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones), is distressed to learn of the brilliance of Mozart — a giggling, wild-eyed twit — and schemes to bring about his downfall. All the while, Salieri wrestles with the knowledge that God has blessed Mozart with genius, and himself with mediocrity.
Forman's new cut restores 20 minutes of footage cut from the original release. Some of the new scenes are fascinating — in particular, one in which Mozart's wife, Constanze (Elizabeth Berridge) offers herself to Salieri, which adds some valuable detail to her character and clarifies the later hostility between Constanze and Salieri. Others seem less essential, such as an extended scene in which Mozart attempts to teach a new student.
The new footage brings the film up to a full three hours, which is — well, it's three hours, and those who object to long movies on principle will not be happy here. But I'd happily listen to Mozart for three hours — particularly in these gloriously remastered recordings led by Sir Neville Marriner. And Twyla Tharp's riotously colorful opera ballets are a treat for the senses.
While the music is the star, the actors are no less sparkling. I'd forgotten how wickedly good Jeffrey Jones is as the emperor, a man with ever-pursed lips and a tiny, clipped "umm-hmm." And those who know Cynthia Nixon only from "Sex and the City" will be surprised to see her in the tiny but vivid role of a maid frightened by Mozart's decline.
And Abraham and Hulce, on center stage, are a marvelous pairing. Hulce conducts his orchestra with a joyous, giddy fervor — it's as if he's guided by naughty angels. Abraham, lurking in the shadows, fairly glows with fury. Encased in waxy old-age makeup, the young Salieri shines through — the embodiment, as he says, of "the tragedy of mediocrity."
Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com.
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