Starz’s ‘Amadeus’ Is a Gorgeous But Superficial Reimaging of the Classic Tale: TV Review
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It is quite a bold thing to reimagine a film as widely beloved and praised as 1984’s Academy Award-winning “Amadeus.” Starz’s latest historical drama, “Amadeus,” is based on Peter Shaffer‘s 1979 play of the same name (which was inspired by Alexander Pushkin’s 1830 play “Mozart and Salieri”) and adapted to television by Joe Barton. The limited series (which debuted last year in the U.K. on Sky Atlantic) is an extravagant, decidedly modern retelling of the fictionalized rivalry between composers Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Will Sharpe) and Antonio Salieri (an outstanding Paul Bettany). And the show is beautifully rendered. Unfortunately, overextending the tale into a five-hour-long television show dilutes the tension, genius and the music that made the film and Shaffer‘s play such masterpieces.
“Amadeus” begins in a darkened room with a confession. An ailing Salieri confesses to Mozart’s widow, Constanze (Gabrielle Creevy), that he murdered the prolific musician some 30 years prior. The revelation doesn’t seem to rattle the older woman. Subsequently, the series dials back to Vienna in 1781 (10 years before Mozart’s death). Salieri is in the prime of his career as the esteemed Court Composer and trusted confidant to Emperor Joseph (Rory Kinnear). Despite his religious devotion and prayers to God, he’s struggling to write new material, causing him great distress. He’s further slighted after the Emperor commissions him to remake one of his old operas so audiences might remember the country’s past successes.
Shortly thereafter, Mozart comes tumbling out of a carriage onto the streets of Vienna, full of alcohol and determination. Fleeing Salzburg and his father’s (Jonathan Aris) iron fist and emphasis on perfection, Mozart, armed with his compositions, vile language and impulsivity, is determined to take on the city. Calculating and rageful, Salieri is immediately put off by Mozart’s confidence and rougish behavior. However, Salieri’s disdain becomes something far more sinister and obsessive when he realizes Mozart is a once-in-a-lifetime visionary. From there, “Amadeus” becomes a depiction of the unraveling of two very different men. One who is both fascinated and tortured by the brilliance of another. And the other, stifled by the oppressive constraints of the time period and traumatized by the childhood he never had.
“Amadeus” is beautiful to behold. In an era where the 18th and 19th centuries are depicted opulently in shows like “The Great,” “Bridgerton” and “Harlots,” Barton’s series fits right in, shunning historical accuracy for glittering production designs, lavish costumes and opulent wigs. Yet, the feast of fashion and style doesn’t make up for a sparse plot that loses its steam by the third episode. Salieri, despite Bettany’s compelling performance, is a wearisome figure consumed by jealousy while clearly toiling under a storm of religious psychosis. His wickedness over the course of “Amadeus” is more tiresome than intriguing, which causes much of the tension of the series to wither away.
Likewise, while Sharpe is certainly entertaining as the prodigal musician, his drunkenness and whimsical nature become a spectacle instead of a true portrait of a genius. Though he’s fun to watch with all of his vulgarity, chaos and brash behavior, he stops being interesting enough to be the “repulsive creature” Salieri is consumed with long before he succumbs to a fever. Additionally, the music in “Amadeus” is also surprisingly lacking. Spurts of operas and compositions crafted by Mozart and Salieri are sprinkled throughout, but they act as filler pieces and background melodies. Since the show is about one man’s disdain for another’s musical brilliance, it seems odd that the music itself acts as an extra when it should be a central character.
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