What is good and right and beautiful about “Amadeus” is the scope of different cinematic staples explored in it. It is an intense character study, it is an amazing example of a protagonist vs. antagonist story and it is packed with symbolism and metaphor. However, it is also a very unconventional film in that the protagonist isn’t necessarily the “good” guy in the conflict, we see the entire film through the perspective of one character and it is one of very few films to actually portray a character actually doing battle with “God.” At least in concept, and yes I mean God the omnipotent being, not fighting with a God like “Clash of the Titans” or some such rubbish.
The chief narrator of the movie, Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) is introduced as a cantankerous old man. His attempted suicide after shouting a very insane-sounding decades-old confession is gruesome and crude (he blades his own throat). Though Salieri does survive, he is admitted into an insane asylum due to his insistence that he murdered famed classical composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce- who makes an incredible leap to serious actor from his previously most well-known role; the immature and dorky Pinto in the equally immature and dorky “Animal House”). When a priest arrives to minister to Salieri he makes the mistake of telling him that all men are equal in God’s eyes. This triggers an almost sadistic reaction from Salieri who begins to narrate the film in flashback mode in hopes of convincing the priest otherwise. Flashback is a very effective way to illustrate character development as we can see the person at several different points in their life and of course we know what the end point is because we see them in their final stages first. However, flashback can also be a major cop-out in that it replaces actual onscreen development; thus making it a fine line to walk.
The young Salieri is only interested in music and dedicates his life to being a composer, which his father will have none of. When he hears the tales of the child prodigy Mozart his desire to play music only intensifies. In a very clever scene contrasting the lives of the two boys we see Salieri having fun and playing games like a normal child and Mozart being treated as a near sideshow attraction. However instead of reveling in the fact that he was not robbed of his childhood by an obsessed stage parent, he laments the fact that he was not. This innovative tool not only draws nonverbal comparisons between the two, but also lets us know that the narration will not be objective or even rational; a unique twist on the concept of one dominant narrator, whom we are usually supposed to simply trust.
A devout Catholic, Salieri’s disturbing doctrine manifests itself further as he is shown praying for the death of his father simply so that he can be allowed to pursue his musical aspirations, both of which occur. The twisted rationale is that God performed this miracle in order to grant Salieri his wish which, though I don’t even pretend to know the first thing about Catholicism, seems to me like it is probably not in line with the teachings of any mainstream church. Nonetheless, Salieri is so grateful to God for smiting his father that he devotes himself to making music for God. However, this selfless act is clearly contradicted by Salieri’s constant references to the general popularity of his music and how many influential people he is able to work for and with.
When Salieri first crosses paths with his idol Mozart, he sees him to be a rude and vulgar man-child. This not only changes Salieri’s impression of Mozart, but also makes him envious of his talents. In addition, he feels slighted by God that he has “chosen” Mozart to be his instrument rather than Salieri- again for no other reason than because Mozart’s music and name are more well-known than his own. A one-sided rivalry between the two begins to develop, as Mozart is not only unaware of Salieri’s feelings towards him but actually appears to like him, save a couple scenes where he gets in some little jabs behind his back.
Mozart however, is not also without fault. He certainly IS rude and vulgar as he is initially depicted, but he is also very egotistical, at one point declaring (while in the presence of another musician) that he while he may not be the only composer in Vienna, he is the best. He even tells Salieri that he composed several variations based on melodies of Salieri’s- however rather than ending the compliment there, goes on to explain that Salieri’s piece at least “yielded some good things.” Mozart does not generally mean to be confrontational or openly malicious, he simply does by being so blithely unaware of his lack of graciousness; which makes his actions both forgivable but frustrating.
One of the centerpieces of the film is Mozart’s obnoxious, high-pitched cackle of a laugh that Salieri insists is God laughing at him every time it is heard. There is a magnificent ambiguity to this laugh that almost suggests it is either not as nerve-wracking as is implied but simply annoys Salieri because he despises Mozart so much or even maybe that Salieri is the only one who hears it that way. Whatever the case, Salieri begins to incredulously refer to Mozart as “the creature” for the remainder of the movie.
“All I wanted was to sing to God. He gave me that longing... and then made me mute. Why? Tell me that. If He didn't want me to praise him with music, why implant the desire? Like a lust in my body! And then deny me the talent?” (Antonio Salieri, “Amadeus”)
From this point on Salieri, as well as the film as a whole, take a dark, dark turn. Convinced that God has forsaken him for Mozart and is purposely torturing him by flaunting Mozart’s unearthly level of talent, Salieri vows that he will get revenge on God by killing his favorite creation; Mozart. It is in this incredibly filmed sequence that we see the complete disintegration of both the main characters and almost a switching of roles. Salieri takes the crucifix off his wall and throws it on the fire in one of the most intelligently shot scenes in the film. Not only does the use of fire almost always suggest a hellish kind of evil in a character, but when he removes the cross from his wall it is symbolically whiter where it used to hang, an understated but clever way of showing us how long it had been hanging there and, in turn illustrating just how long he had been so devout.
These are not the actions of a man who has lost his faith, but rather a man who has taken to blaming all his own failings and shortcomings on a higher power. Despite the fact that Mozart is on a downward spiral with his father dying, his wife leaving him and his health in decline, it is actually Salieri who’s mind we see crumbling to pieces. Everything that goes wrong for him is simply written off as God being spiteful and in his unbridled resentment of Mozart he devises a plan to destroy his rival. He buys a terrifying costume with a mask that can be reversed so that the front is showing a disapproving scowl and the back shows a laughing face or vice-versa that he had previously seen Mozart’s father Leopold wear to a party back when he was alive. Putting the scowling-face-forward he arrives at Wolfgang’s apartment to commission a “death mass” (what would become Mozart’s legendary “The Requiem”) from him, capitalizing on the torture over Leopold’s death Mozart had conveyed in his opera “Don Giovanni.” The two-faced mask serves as a more-than-intended divulgence into Salieri’s character as well. The use of a mask can imply a level of cowardice and the two faces obviously lend themselves to the notion that Salieri himself is two-faced as he poses as Mozart’s only friend while all-the-while throwing him under the bus at every turn.
I’ve always wondered whether or not he intended for this to “kill” Mozart by driving him to a grief-induced suicide, enhance his already rampant drinking or simply to work him to death knowing that Mozart was knee-deep in work on “The Magic Flute” but I guess room for speculation is what makes a movie great and gives the viewer the chance to decide for themselves without being corrected or contradicted. Also, ambiguity is something of a trademark of director Milos Forman and really finds a niche here.
The culmination of Salieri’s plan takes place at the unveiling of Mozart’s long-delayed “The Magic Flute.” His professional decline is depicted masterfully as his operas “The Marriage of Figaro” and “Don Giovanni” are shown to be flops and each time he is seen conducting the crowd in the opera house becomes progressively more pauperish- so much so that by the time he debuts “The Magic Flute” his audiences can be seen drinking in the theater as he is relegated to working with low-brow vaudevillian performers and not in the Emperor’s Court as before. Mozart collapses during the performance and Salieri, posing as his concerned friend taxis him home. He convinces Mozart that the mysterious benefactor has visited demanding “The Requiem” be completed and offers to help him finish (obviously he wants to accelerate work on the piece he is sure will finish Mozart off).
What follows is a remarkably climactic scene that tells us more about the two characters than the previous 2 and-a-half-hours. Mozart, who already hears the entire piece in his head, is dictating the entire score to Salieri, who is frantically trying to keep up. Mozart is frustrated by Salieri’s inability to understand complex musical arrangements and unheard-of changes in tempo, while Salieri finally sees exactly how inferior he is to Mozart for the same reasons.
The music playing faintly in the background not only accents this scene beautifully but also makes the viewer feel as if they know what he is talking about and can even hear it in their heads as well while Salieri simply looks foolish. With a total lack of any kind of physical confrontation, this is instead how the audience sees the final showdown between the two men. As they work through the night Salieri awakens from a nap to find Mozart has died. Rather than reveling in his success and celebrating the death of his “enemy” Salieri takes this as the final insult from God by concluding that he killed Mozart before Salieri was able to. His hypothesis that God would rather destroy his beloved creation than let Salieri have his moment absolutely destroys any respect the viewer may have for him, as it is not only an absurd suggestion but also petty.
The unfinished “Requiem” plays as Mozart’s funeral is shown. It is pouring rain as all the characters who have played a part in Mozart’s life throughout the film are shown in different locations as the procession makes its way through Vienna until finally his body is dumped from a trap-door into the reusable coffin and thrown into an unmarked pauper’s grave with several other corpses. Though Mozart has died friendless, penniless and buried dignity-less Salieri still stews in what he sees as his ultimate defeat.
As the priest from the beginning is seen still listening to Salieri’s confession, but totally drained and in tears (presumably at the death of Mozart) the motif that runs throughout is finally driven home. Salieri sees himself as a failure throughout the film simply because he is not as good as Mozart and, by letting this notion dog him, he has become a true failure. So much so that he has even failed in committing suicide. As he is wheeled away for breakfast, Salieri seems to be at peace and even pleased with his self-appointed title of “Patron Saint of All Mediocrities.” The last thing we hear though is Mozart’s obnoxious laugh, even years later haunting Salieri and overshadowing his brief moment of happiness.
Everything about “Amadeus” is remarkably unique; the full-scale recreations of Mozart’s operas (despite the knowledge that they would only comprise a few minutes of the finished film) are still given the full Hollywood treatment, costumes and all. The amazing transition between bio-pic and pure fiction, Salieri’s struggle against a non-present enemy, the level of character study both main characters receive through constantly transitioning between the two’s private lives and most significantly the music. Rather than inundating us with overplayed Mozart staples we hear constantly in our day-to-day lives, Milos Forman instead opts to use more obscure music which even makes extended musical scenes seem fresh for people whose attention spans cannot latch on to classical music or people who just find opera abhorrent; I know they’re out there…
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