The story is told from Salieris point of view as he talks about his grievances sitting in an asylum for the insane, confiding in the chaplain, after he has tried to do away with himself by slashing his wrists and neck. As salieris story unfolds, the lens shifts regularly back in time to a court in Vienna which was actually shot in Prague.
Amadeus is one of those magical and rare films with a nearly perfect mixture of beautiful writing, glorious music, elegant cinematography, remarkable acting, dazzling art direction, and an engrossing story. It ranges from grand to ribald, from hilarious to heartbreaking, from chilling to endearing. It put relative no-names like F. Murray Abraham in the spotlight, and furthered the already promising careers of greats like director Milos Forman. And it is by far one of my favorite films of all time.
It does not seem Formans style to make a typical bibliographical sketch of a master. Instead it is told in a manner which makes it interesting to watch unlike a documentary.
There’s a moment early in Amadeus when court composer Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) wanders through a crowded salon in search of the famed prodigy known to him by reputation only: Mozart. Inspecting each young musician, he looks for some outward sign of genius: the “man who had written his first concerto at the age of four, his first symphony at seven, and a full-scale opera at 12.”
Soon after, we and with Salieri first lay eyes on Mozart – not the halo-crowned demigod built up in music history classes, but instead a mischievous, arrogant vulgar man with a cackling laugh. But Milos Forman’s stunning epic didn’t win eight Academy Awards for simply reducing classical music royalty to child-like stature
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