Clear your diary. Find your nearest venue. Book a ticket. Now.
Most readers will be familiar with the 1984 film version that won that year's Best Picture Academy Award and a host of other prizes. I love the film. But the play is much, much better. And very different.
The film is a fairly straightforward, fictionalised biography of Mozart's life. The play is more complex. It's not only much more about Salieri, but explores more internal conflict. What happens when you work all your life to be good at the thing you love, and someone who hardly tries is better at that thing than you'll ever be? How does jealousy warp the soul? What happens to children when the parent (in this case, God) loves one more than the other? Much like the greatest of Shakespeare's plays, Amadeus uses this story to explore the mingled tragedy and joy of the human condition. The Salieri v. Mozart plot is a conduit to far deeper themes.
I love the film's opera scenes, which show us Mozart's great works in the lavish costumes and settings of his time. I assumed there wouldn't be as much music in the stage play. I was gloriously wrong. The Southbank Sinfonia is on stage most of the time, not just providing music but actively participating in the story. They walk as they play. They're the crowd on the streets and the guests at opulent parties. For the operas, they coalesce back into a traditional orchestra under Mozart's baton. Several top operatic soloists join the cast, so when we get the excerpts from Figaro, the Magic Flute et al, the sound is magnificent. (No matter how good your sound system is, nothing touches the soul like live music.)
The staging is remarkable. For the operas, the whole scene flips with the emperor and his court at the back of the stage, looking towards you. The orchestra is in the centre, in a pit that's sunk into the stage, while the operatic action takes place around an arc projecting into the audience. You find yourself backstage, very much a piece of the action. Later, when we get the musical climax of the requiem, the mingled cast and lights coming up from the horizon create a breathtaking, apocalyptic moment of which you are very much a part.
Lucian Msamati's Salieri is compelling and complex. Despite his evil behaviour, your empathy is all with him and you feel his pain. For the first time, the use of "Amadeus" as the title became clear to me, as Salieri wails the word heavenward. Ama Deus. Beloved of God. Why him and not me? It's a heart shattering moment. I was less enamoured of Adam Gillen's Mozart, who is played as such an obnoxious clown it's very difficult to like him for three quarters of the play. He does pull us in at the end, as we finally understand that he's a scared child, solidly on the autistic spectrum, unable to interact normally with others yet desperately wanting to be loved. Bring plenty of tissue for Mozart's death scene. This is a proper tragedy: nobody escapes unscathed.
Emotionally shattering. Visually beautiful. Soaring music. Remarkable acting. Spiced with witty comic relief and gorgeous costumes. Theatre like this doesn't come around very often. I suspect we might see a transfer to the West End. But don't take any chances. If you're at all intrigued, get to that cinema broadcast.
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