Amadeus Review - by Author Carrie Lofty

Terry invited me here today to talk about one of my favorite films, Amadeus. The year of its release, 1984, was a fantastic year for historical films, and Amadeus was nominated for Best Picture against dramatic powerhouses such as The Killing Fields, Places in the Heart, and A Passage to India. Although Tom Hulce didn't win Best Actor for his iconic embodiment of Mozart, F. Murray Abraham won Best Supporting Actor. And Mozart--the man, the legend, the musical genius--would never be the same.

So what's my fascination? The costumes are lush, enticing viewers to imagine trying one on--just once, to take a few pictures and walk around, but maybe not to wear all the time! The sets and locales evoke a time of romance, decadence, and entitlement during a time of fast-coming change in the wake of the American and French Revolutions. And the music...although I was only seven when the film was released, my family had HBO at the time and I watched it over and over, mesmerized by a style of music that wasn't often heard in my house. I bought the soundtrack when I was a teenager and wore out the tape. I bought it again on CD when I was in college, then started on a quest to expand my knowledge and understanding of classical music.

And then there were the performances. Tom Hulce played Mozart as he'd never been portrayed before: as a human being. Far from an untouchable genius, he's a rude, crass, loose, insolent brat who lives on the cusp of sanity and propriety, occasionally stepping his toe over the line--often for the sake of his music. There is mania in his performance, there is childishness, and there is genius. All come together to form a man unlike any portrayed on film outside of horror movies and tales of college hazing. That he's Mozart made it even more compelling.

F. Murray Abraham as Salieri is subtle and sly and deeply tortured. He loves that which he hates, and those conflicting emotions eat away at his soul. There's a scene where he discusses the opera The Marriage of Figaro. The Emperor is bored, his ears overtaxed by "too many notes." The public doesn't understand it. And Salieri does his best to spite his hated rival, Mozart, by compelling the Emperor to shut it down after only nine performances--but Salieri attends all nine, alone in his balcony, obsessed.

But beyond all of these elements, Amadeus speaks to the frustration of being compelled by a creative drive. Salieri, at his most sacrilegious point of desperation, gets down on his knees and curses God. He says to his Confessor, "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?" Anyone who has ever burned with a gut-deep fire to dance, play an instrument, write, sing, or paint--but who didn't possess the natural talent--can understand Salieri's frustration, especially when Mozart, in his unfathomable abundance of talent, seemed to squander that talent and take it for granted.

Yes, some of the history behind Amadeus is bunk. You can read more about the argued inaccuracies here. But as a film of dramatic brilliance that celebrates one of the most profound musical adepts of human history, it is a spectacle of moviemaking that cannot be missed.

Oh, and if you're a fan of classical music--particularly compelled by their slavish devotion to a demanding muse--you might want to check out my free historical romance which was partly inspired by my love for Amadeus. In Serenade, a widowed violin prodigy in Napoleonic Salzburg studies with the reclusive Dutch composer she idolizes and grows to love, only to learn that he stole the symphony he's most famous for. The first three chapters of Serenade are here on my website, and the entire novel is available as a complimentary PDF or EPUB file to members of my Yahoo loop. Join today and enjoy!

Born in California and raised in the Midwest, Carrie found the love of her life in England. Her January 2010 release, Scoundrel's Kiss, features a Spanish warrior monk and the troubled Englishwoman he's sworn to protect. Stop by her website, follow her on Twitter, or visit Unusual Historicals, the multi-author blog she founded in 2006 to celebrate historical romances set in unusual times and places.