Amadeus

Don Giovanni ("Commendatore" or "Pieta"), Prague
Originally uploaded by ubichan

commemorative sculpture of Don Giovanni , Prague, blogged from "ubichan's" flickr photostream


“Amadeus,” a best picture Oscar-winner from Milos Forman, is dramatic and beautiful, like the music that plays throughout. I’ve seen this film a number of times, but hadn’t seen it in probably ten years or so. I was hoping that it hadn’t aged poorly, and I was more than a little surprised at how much I still really enjoyed it.
The opening, jarring notes and the subsequent human wail set the memorable initial stage of the story of Antonio Salieri and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Salieri, since he was a child, has prayed and bargained with God to make him a world-renowned composer whose music would last forever, promising to God “my chastity, my industry, my deepest humility,” and it seemed that God had bestowed this gift to him. Enter the “giggling, dirty-minded creature (Mozart),” who makes music fit for angels. Salieri recognizes Mozart’s genius, but is confused as to why God has infused this great talent into such a vulgar and pompous man-child. Salieri, initially grateful and indebted to God, now feels God is punishing him, taunting him with someone who has far greater talent and much less humility. He is so taken with Mozart’s music – with the sublime – that he views Mozart as a voice of God, as God’s instrument. As such, it is God with whom Salieri is at war, and God against whom he must plot; this is Salieri’s conceit. Ironically, although Salieri plots against Mozart as though he were God incarnate, Mozart displays his own lack of faith, suggesting to Salieri that maybe eternal fire does exist, but the clear implication is that he thinks it – and by extension, God - does not.
The film also shows the stark duality of Mozart’s persona, the competing impulses he has: the fun-loving, money-draining, pompous center-of-attention, and the serious, intense, perfect (!) musician/composer. This is fleshed out with appearances by Mozart’s stern, overbearing father, Leopold, who casts a long shadow over his son, and Mozart’s practical, grounded wife.
In the end, through certain excesses of vice and of overwork, and maybe helped along by Salieri, Mozart proceeds to an ignominious death and burial, his body dumped into an unmarked pit; such a departure from the majestic, sublime, timeless - even angelic - music that he created.
The music in the film is incredible, of course, provided by one of the world’s greatest, most well-known composers. The use of the music, though, is quite striking. (It reminds me of medieval madrigals: matching the words of text, or here, the film scenes, with musical settings that express their meanings.) The filmmaker uses the music to further the film, and Mozart obviously has such an extensive oeuvre that different pieces of his music are used for just about every scene, and they merge seamlessly with the director’s vision. For example, the attempted suicide scene in the beginning of the film: the bright red blood spreading across Salieri’s neck is so horrid and startling, and along with the music, so unexpected and powerful that I cannot imagine a more perfect match between music and scene.
The film also contains various styles of Mozart’s music. Opera, for one, with “The Magic Flute” (his self-described “vaudeville”) and “Don Giovanni.” ( I found it interesting how excited Mozart became after finishing one of his operas: “There are no recitatives!” he exclaims proudly about “La Nozze di Figaro.”) I also noticed plainchant, or plainchant influences, in the death mass he creates. Also, as he’s composing this mass, he explains to Salieri (who is taking dictation) what he wants and how he wants it. As he is giving instructions, his music is playing, giving the viewer the opportunity to hear the music that he is describing. Similarly, early in the film, Salieri is attempting to explain to a priest the perfection of Mozart’s music, and, as he describes it, (one flute, high above the others, then the clarinets, and finally an oboe, etc) it plays for us, the viewers. I found it very fascinating to have a description of the music as that same music played.
Although based in fact, this film seems to have taken much artistic license in the specifics of the relationship between Mozart and Salieri. The basics seem to be historically accurate: the period in which they lived, Mozart’s employment by the archbishop and his subsequent move to Vienna, his early years touring with his father and playing at royal courts around Europe, Salieri’s employment under the archduke, etc. The main plot line, though, of Mozart and Salieri, is probably not accurate. From what I’ve read, they both seemed to have worked together and gotten along quite well. There were persistent rumors, after the death of Salieri (which occurred thirty two years after Mozart’s death), that Salieri, on his deathbed, had admitted to killing Mozart. There is no evidence for this, and the three people who were with him throughout his last days (doctor, nurse, and servant, I believe) all deny that he ever said anything like this. So, the director is historically accurate in presenting a film about the rumors concerning Salieri and Mozart, but most likely none of this happened.
Whether rumor or conjecture or fact or fiction, I really enjoyed this movie. I found it incredible on many levels, including the music, the plot, the acting (wow, F. Murray Abraham really projects a deep love of music, especially as an old man), the religious/anti-religious theme, etc. I could go on, but I’ll just say that this movie is a must see for not only fans of classical music, but fans of any music, and anyone who likes good – no, great! – films.