The 2000s Reviews

Amadeus: Director's Cut
Friday, September 13, 2002
By John J. Puccio
DVD Town

There is no question Amadeus is among the most opulent films ever made. For that reason alone it was a prime candidate for release first on laser disc and then early on DVD. Think about it: Director Milos Forman shot most of the scenes indoors, with little physical action and virtually no special effects, yet the whole experience rivets our attention from first to last. Now, the release of this 1984 winner of eight Academy Awards in a two-disc Special Edition Director's Cut is a crowning touch in its illustrious history. I couldn't recommend a film higher.

The screenplay, based on Peter Shaffer's stage play about the last decade of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's life, focuses on the musician's rivalry with fellow composer Antonio Salieri. The story's suggestions that Mozart was an immature buffoon and that Salieri may have poisoned him enraged many of Mozart's fans but made for thoughtful and thought-provoking movie viewing. Add to the gorgeous scenery, filmed on location in Czechoslovakia in buildings like the Tyl Theater where Mozart actually conducted the première performance of "Don Giovanni," a literate script, a host of talented actors, and some of the most beautiful music ever written and the result is a combination that deserves the Oscars it received.

The film traces the fictional strife between Mozart and Salieri from about the time of Mozart's marriage to Constanze (Elizabeth Berridge) to his premature death in 1791 at the age of thirty-five. The young composer is played by Tom Hulce, who portrays him, not unreasonably, as part childlike mischief-maker and part serious genius. The man's real-life letters to his father and friends would indicate that he may, indeed, have been the jokester the film suggests. Even more impressive, however, is F. Murray Abraham, who won the Best Actor award for his role as the insanely jealous Antonio Salieri. There is no evidence actually to suggest that Salieri poisoned the younger man, but it makes for wonderfully dramatic conjecture.

Amadeus should not be construed as a biography; it is clearly a work of theatrical license, a highly fictionalized "what if" story. As such, it works on any number of levels. We feel sympathies for Mozart, for his wife, for his father, and even for poor old Salieri, who, in the film, is a hardworking but largely mediocre composer constantly being upstaged by the gifted, impulsive, and inspired Mozart. Salieri's frustrations lead him in later life to believe he contemplated the unthinkable, yet in its favor the film never really pins Mozart's death on him directly but only implies his complicity.

The story is told thirty-two years after Mozart's death by an elderly and forgotten Salieri, now in an insane asylum, to a young priest who has never heard of the old man's music. Salieri was once the most famous composer in Europe, but the priest doesn't recognize anything he plays on the piano installed in his cell. Until the old man plays a work that the priest declares is "charming. I didn't know you wrote that." "I didn't," responds Salieri. "THAT was Mozart."

Mozart is able to improvise music on the spot better than Salieri can compose through long work and study. In fact, according to the film, Mozart was able to create whole symphonies and operas in his head. Writing the music down on paper was mere dictation, "scribbling" as Mozart called it. Yet for all his talent, Mozart was not always appreciated in his day, the Emperor Joseph II (wonderfully played by Jeffrey Jones) contending that his operas contained "too many notes."

Of course, no movie about Mozart would be complete without a good deal of the man's actual music on hand, and here Sir Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields provide excellent coverage. In fact, the music pretty much dominates the film, overshadowing the characters themselves. Sir Neville was an old hand at Mozart, having already made numerous recordings of the composer's work, and his performances of excerpts from Mozart's symphonies, concertos, operas, and requiem are a joy unto themselves. This is a film to be savored for its acting and for its visual splendor, to be sure, but also for the sheer exuberance of its music making.

What's more, the Special Edition features the Director's Cut of the movie, restoring about twenty minutes worth of material never seen in its original release and bringing the film's length to an exact three hours. Trust me, even if you're not into classical music, these hours fly by. The additional scenes are clearly marked among the disc's scene selections and in some instances help establish an even more-intense hatred, jealousy, and scheming on the part of Salieri, while in other instances reaffirm Mozart's poor management of his finances. One newly added scene in particular, involving Constanze and Salieri, may turn a few heads.

Video: The picture has been beautifully brought to disc, looking even better in this 2001 mastering than it did in its first DVD incarnation, which might be expected of a transfer that sometimes doubles its predecessor's bit rate. The 2.09:1 ratio anamorphic widescreen presentation is virtually without blemish, save for some very minor instances of wavering lines. Otherwise, the image is crisp, clean, and clear, and the colors are brilliant, deep, and rich. I've said this is an opulent film, and the hues are opulently displayed in almost three-dimensional crystalline clarity.

Audio: The sound, most of it musical, is fairly well defined, if a tad fat, plus it's robust and dynamic. The audio choices are Dolby Digital 5.1 and Dolby 2.0 Surround, the former helping to focus the sonic stage a bit more than the two-channel stereo. When the music opens up to the rear speakers, the ambient information can be quite stunning, although it isn't always entirely discrete. Still, the musical passages benefit from the enveloping concert-hall resonance of the back channels.

Extras: Disc one contains the three-hour director's cut of the film, the Dolby Digital 5.1 and Dolby 2.0 Surround soundtracks, and as its main bonus, an audio commentary with director Milos Forman and writer Peter Shaffer. I listened only to the first fifteen minutes or so of this commentary and found their remarks good humored and informative. In addition, disc one contains cast and crew information; an awards list; forty-six scene selections with asterisks indicating never-before-seen footage (well, somebody must have seen it before); English and French spoken languages; and English, French, and Spanish subtitles.

Disc two, interestingly, contains only two items, a one-hour documentary, "The Making of Amadeus," and a widescreen theatrical trailer. Fortunately, both of them are highly entertaining. The documentary was made in 2002 and contains interviews with the director, Forman; the producer, Saul Zaentz (who earlier produced Forman's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest); the writer, Peter Shaffer; the stars, Hulce, Abraham, Berridge, and Vincent Schiavelli; the music conductor, Neville Marriner; and various other members of the crew. Together, these folks provide a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes of preparing and shooting the movie. For instance, they point out that small-name actors were chosen over established Hollywood stars in order to be sure the film's music transcended everything else. Obviously, the ploy worked, although Abraham gives Mozart's work a run for its money.

All things considered--script, acting, direction, editing, cinematography, sets, costumes, and music--this is as perfect a picture as one could imagine. It's no wonder it won Oscars for Best Picture, Actor, Director, Writing, Art Direction, Costumes, Makeup, and Sound. It deserved every one of them. Amadeus is a joy to behold, lavish in execution both visually and aurally. The Special Edition Director's Cut makes a very special film that much more special. Oh, yes, and Mr. Forman directs the cat exceptionally well.