Reviewed by Colin Jacobson (February 19, 2025)
It falls into the category of flogging a dead horse, but as I’ve noted many times in the past, I rarely agree with the selections made for Oscar’s Best Picture. As such, it turns into a nice surprise when the Academy actually gets things right.
They did so once – and only once - during the 1980s, when Amadeus won the prize for 1984. It was about time, as by my reckoning, it became the first one they chose correctly since The Godfather Part II in 1974.
An elderly Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) attempts suicide due to guilt, as he feels his actions caused the death of fellow composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce). As Catholic priest Father Vogler (Richard Frank) persuades him to confess his sins, Salieri relates their shared past.
We see Salieri’s envy of Mozart’s greater talent and how his jealousy impacted their relationship. Through this lens we view Mozart’s rise and fall as well as Salieri’s theoretical complicity in his rival’s demise.
Back during its theatrical run, I didn’t fly eagerly to see Amadeus, though. Actually, I knew about the project for quite some time prior to 1984, as my father attended an early US performance of the play upon which they based the film.
The Old Man raved about it, which caused me to assume the natural teenage reaction: I figured that if he loved that meant it actually sucked.
Well, I don't much like plays anyway. Right around the time of the 1985 Academy Awards show, I took in Amadeus and thought it seemed surprisingly good.
Not amazing to a teenaged me, but much less artsy and pretentious than I expected. I even mustered up a (very) brief interest in Mozart shortly after that.
Amadeus came with all the markings of a pretentious little art film. I mean, a semi-biography of Mozart? How could that not seem dull?
That assumption could not possibly be farther from the truth. Obviously, Amadeus delivers no thrill a minute action festt, but it certainly does an exquisite job of involving and entertaining the viewer.
Of course, quite a few historical liberties occur along the way, but that seems fine with me. History can become malleable enough anywat, and I don't expect stories of this sort to maintain the absolute accuracy I'd demand of a real biography. There's enough truth there to satisfy critics, and the liberties do not seem gratuitous or excessive.
Liberties needed to occur because the story comes from Salieri’s perspective. This approach works well because it allows the viewer to appreciate Mozart without the film seeming pedantic, so it never feels like we receive any sort of stiff "music appreciation" lesson.
Director Milos Forman keeps the film grounded without excessive heaviness. Historical films such as this all too often become deadly serious pseudo-documentaries that may inform us about the period but certainly do not entertain us.
Forman propels the film along at a good pace. We never get bogged down or bored with the material.
One way in which Amadeus also draws in the viewer stems from the liveliness of the setting. Forman doesn’t depict the 18th century is not depicted as the dry, sterile period we might expect.
While it clearly seems very different from modern times, Forman establishes enough connection with our present-day attitudes that we can easily relate to the characters. It brings a period piece, but it never feels stuffy or stodgy. Amadeus always appears vibrant and full of life.
A lot of that life stems from the terrific performances in the film. Abraham justifiably won the Oscar for his multifaceted performance as Salieri.
Abraham portrays the inner demons in the man and his obsessions without making him into a caricature. He keeps him accessible and likable, no matter how conflicted he becomes.
As Mozart himself, Hulce does a very good job, though Abraham outclasses him. In contrast with the nuanced performance as Salieri, Hulce's Mozart appears a little too broad and cartoony.
This method works well to offer contrast between a semi-hedonistic Mozart and the much more introspective, repressed Salieri, but Hulce may go just a little too far at times. He usually cannot display the subtleties of the character's various emotions as well as Abraham does.
Nonetheless, Hulce provides a pretty strong performance, so while he could have been better, he does not do anything to harm the film, and Hulce frequently provides entertaining and effective work. He also adds a touching sense of innocence and naïveté that helps make his scenes with Abraham more effective.
Amadeus features a very good supporting cast as well, and I like Roy Dotrice as Mozart's father Leopold most of all. He doesn't get all that much screentime, but a great deal of the film details Wolfgang's less than terrific relationship with his overbearing father and Dotrice clearly shows us why Wolfie felt the way he did about daddy.
Still, even though Leopold offers something of a "heavy," Dotrice plays him deftly enough that we never see him as a bad guy. While in retrospect he clearly did not always act in Wolfgang's best interest, he seemed to do what he felt was best at the time.
As the remaining main player, Elizabeth Berridge seems adequate but nothing more as Mozart's wife Constanze. Her performance frequently appears a little forced, but she remains acceptable.
Of the other supporting performers, only Jeffrey Jones as Emperor Joseph II really stands out from the crowd. The Emperor remains largely a comedic role, and Jones nicely makes the Joseph II seem sort of silly but not like a complete buffoon. Jones’ reading of Joseph’s trademark "there it is!" provides one of the film's greatest pleasures.
And many varied delights appear during Amadeus, one of my all-time favorite Best Picture winners. After 40 years, the movie remains lively and engrossing, as it rarely misfires. The flick avoids the usual ponderous trappings of the genre and seems like a terrific historical drama.
