“Amadeus” at 40

In spite of its historical inaccuracy, Amadeus (1984) is still one of the greatest films about classical music of all time. Directed by Miloš Forman, Amadeus was adapted from Peter Shaffer’s 1979 stage play of the same name, which itself was inspired by Alexander Pushkin’s 1830 play Mozart and Salieri. In honor of the film’s 40th anniversary, we discuss why it has endured as a classic film beloved by musicians and non-musicians alike.

First off, no, Antonio Salieri did not kill Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. If there was any rivalry between the two composers, it was strictly professional. If anything, the competition between them was a motivational and inspirational force. The myth that Salieri poisoned Mozart was perpetuated in 1825—long after Mozart’s death—based on a letter Mozart had written while wracked with rheumatic fever. Hallucinations and paranoia from the fever may have led him to falsely believe someone had poisoned him and that he was writing the Requiem for his own funeral. Although the commission for the Requiem did come by way of an “unknown gray stranger,” this was not Salieri but an aristocrat named Count Franz von Walsegg, who paid large sums to pass off legitimate composers’ works as his own.

Instead of a man of mediocre talent whose jealousy drove him to murderous deeds, Salieri was a highly successful composer, a well-liked and generous teacher, and an influential tastemaker in Vienna. He even taught Mozart’s son Franz Xaver Mozart after his father’s premature death. But that story does not a compelling drama make. Instead of a truthful biopic, Peter Shaffer’s screenplay uses historical figures and events as a framework to explore other themes, such as the poisonous effects of jealousy and guilt, one man’s relationship with God, the contradictions between the art and the artist, and the transcendent power of great music.

What the film does capture accurately is Mozart’s unique genius. Conductor Marin Alsop explains in a video for Wired, “[The film is] historically not 100% accurate, but it so captures the immense talent of Mozart and the sense that he knew what he wanted to write, and he could just put it right into the full score, just out of his head.”

The most famous scene that illustrates this ability is when Mozart dictates the Requiem to Salieri from his deathbed. After taking a beat to think, the music emerges from Mozart’s mind fully formed, while Salieri—conflicted by feelings of awe and resentment—struggles to keep up with his pace. Possessing an incredible musical memory, Mozart was known to formulate pieces entirely in his head before writing them down. He made very few revisions or corrections during this “copying out” stage, as the composition work was already done. The scene also deconstructs Mozart’s music, illustrating its component parts and how they work together.

Another scene that demonstrates the Mozart's genius is when Salieri picks up the score to Mozart’s Serenade No. 10 for Winds. An aged Salieri reminisces, “On the page it looked nothing. The beginning simple, almost comic. Just a pulse. Bassoons, basset horns—like a rusty squeeze box. And then, suddenly, high above it, an oboe. A single note, hanging there, unwavering, until a clarinet took it over, sweetened it into a phrase of such delight.” For modern listeners, it is easy to take Mozart’s music for granted. However, this scene helps us hear its exquisite yet simple beauty with fresh ears and demonstrates why many—including the character of Salieri—consider his music to be directly from God.

The way Mozart’s music is integrated into the movie is a large part of what makes Amadeus so successful as a classical music film. Mozart’s music doesn’t just provide a pretty sonic backdrop. Instead, it is integral to the storytelling and character-building, as demonstrated in the above examples. Sir Neville Marriner only agreed to conduct the soundtrack (played by the Academy of St Martin in the Fields) as long as not one note of Mozart was changed—“no cuts, no slashes, no desperate Hollywoodization of the score,” as he said in an interview. Instead, the film was shot around the music, not the other way around.

F Murray Abraham, who won the Academy Award for Best Actor for his portrayal of Salieri, also stressed the dramatic importance of the film’s score, saying, “I knew that the central character was neither Mozart nor Salieri. It was the music. And that really sustains the film.” From the fateful opening chords of Don Giovanni that recur at pivotal moments to the frivolity of Mozart’s mother-in-law turning into the Queen of the Night, Mozart’s music is woven into the fabric of the film on every level.

The film would not have been nearly as successful without the believable musical performances of the lead actors, especially Tom Hulce as Mozart. Neither he nor Abraham had much musical training before signing onto the film. Hulce, having only played the guitar before, would practice piano for three or four hours each day in the months leading up to shooting, even though he plays silent keyboards in the film. “There’s no way I was going to be able to act that without being actually able to do it,” Hulce explained in the Director’s Cut documentary, likening the experience to learning to do one’s own stunt work.

Marriner was stunned at Hulce’s believability: “Tom never hit the wrong key, even when he played it backwards.” Unlike in other films where actors’ poor pretend playing or conducting becomes a distraction, any miming in Amadeus is practically imperceptible. This helps the audience lose themselves in the story, just as the authentic costumes, lighting, sets, and filming locations do (including the actual theater in Prague where Mozart conducted the premiere of Don Giovanni in 1878).

The prominence and authenticity of the music at the heart of Amadeus is just one aspect of why the film endures as a classic today. But just as Mozart’s sublime music lends credence to the film, the film in turn introduced millions to Mozart’s symphonies, operas, chamber music, and Requiem, the soundtrack becoming one of the best-selling classical music recordings of all time. Ironically, while the film has caused Salieri’s reputation irreparable damage, it has also sparked renewed interest in his music, demonstrating he is not “the patron saint of mediocrity” by any means!