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Amadeus
By Debbi K. Swanson
Every once in a while a show comes along that just grabs you and won't let
go. Peter Schaffer's 1979 Amadeus was one of those for me. While the impetus
for the story may be all in court composer Antonio Salieri's insecure mind,
it is nonetheless a compelling, twisted story of ambition, insanity, passion
and terror. The self-perceived hack must seek revenge on the upstart genius.
Fear of being mediocre is so universal it's no wonder this show is such a
hit.
Mozart was quite a horrendous man in real life, ugly and more socially
outrageous than even the play presents. So it would be especially insulting
to a learned, mannered man like his rival Scalieri that such a beast had much greater
talent and lust for life than he, who had so carefully crafted his
perfection. Peter Hall's direction understands the greater complexity of the
character and raises this production far above the film, which most people
are familiar with.
David Suchet, TV's Hercule Poirot, as Scalieri, is a tour-de-force portrayal, an actor's
role to relish for life. And Suchet delivers. Set in 19th century Vienna, the
esteemed composer is shocked when the news of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's genius
spreads throughout the land. Composing before he hit a double digit
age, Michael Sheen plays the doomed genius in this riveting story of
jealousy, rage and vindictiveness. Sheen plays Mozart as a complete,
multi-leveled character, with more demons, including his own father, than
sense.
The magic starts with the opening of the town whispering in
rhythm "Salieri,Salieri." And two "townsmen" stand on either side of the stage
debating whether Salieri really did do it - kill Mozart that is. The haunting
refrain draws you right in to meet an old bitter man in rather lush quarters,
barely able to move or eat. Suchet is so adept that in an instant he sheds
his costume to become the younger, powerful Salieri to reenact the time that
Mozart came to court and became Salieri's supposed friend and secret nemesis.
The game is on, and it is an elaborate game at that. The trouble is, Mozart
doesn't realize what kind of a game it is and therefore has no chance of
winning. Salieri plays exactly as he wishes, being sure to sabotage Mozart at court, and indirectly succeeding at obliterating his life as well. But, of course, he can't obliterate Mozart's genius, which
lives on to haunt Salieri until his death, many long years later. Their
confrontations in the palace, as Salieri sits hidden in a huge wing chair
are particularly delightful. In one, Mozart carries on with his future wife
as if they're animals in a barn, and Salieri slyly sits soaking it all in,
feeding his passionate hate.
Cindy Katz plays Mozart's lowly wife Constanze, the younger sister he finally
gets after her father refuses to give him the older daughter. (In real life
Mozart went through two sisters before landing the third.) She's a mix of
passion and paranoia as her husband disintegrates before her eyes, willing to
sleep with the enemy to ensure his success. For fun, David McCallum plays
Emperor Joseph II, all the while saying not much more than, "And there it
is." A man of brilliant insight he was not.
But the play, even though it has some weaknesses, usually when Suchet isn't
on stage, flies by in what seems like minutes instead of its solid three
hours. Paule Constable's lighting and William Dudley's set and costumes work
magic as scenes transform from one to another. Lacking sentiment or a period
style that restricts, it is richly satisfying. It heads
to Broadway after completing this run Thanksgiving weekend.
Amadeus plays at the Ahmanson Theatre, 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles. (213)
628-2772. 8 p.m. Tues.-Sat., 2 p.m. Sat., Sun., through Nov. 28. Tickets are
$25-55.
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