Considering that so many of the world's greatest theater companies and theater artists have
performed Peter Shaffer's Amadeus so memorably in the past 30 years, I guess the play should be considered a modern classic. But memories of favorite performances and opulent productions are tough on merely excellent ones that follow. We certainly want the play to continue in our repertories, because its great acting roles and dramatic moments are worth bringing back. So, despite recalling some legendary productions, I am happy to see that Rochester's Geva Theater Center has mounted an admirable new revival of this rich, dynamic and entirely engrossing drama of the cancerous jealousy of a minor talent confronted with a rival of unprecedented genius.
Antonio Salieri was a competent 18th century composer of less-than-great stature, clearly overrated during most of his career but also rather harshly judged or forgotten by later generations. Actually, we are starting to listen to some of his works and finding them pleasant now. But in this play Salieri is incurably anguished to think himself "the patron saint of mediocrity" after Mozart arrives.
Shaffer imagines Salieri to be virtually the only person at the Court of the Emperor Franz-Joseph II to truly understand and appreciate how uniquely great young Mozart's talent is. Having devoted his life to creating music in worship of his God, Salieri now imagines that God has abandoned him, even toyed with him, only to express Himself instead through this vulgar-mannered, insensitive young "creature," Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. To revenge himself against God, Salieri vows to destroy Mozart.
Some have criticized Shaffer for resurrecting the false rumors that jealous Salieri murdered Mozart, but that is clearly not the point of this play, titled with Mozart's middle name, which he was not addressed by but which means "beloved of God." The mystery of creativity is explored here by contrasting the rightness of Mozart's revolutionary ideas in artistic arguments vs. Mozart's desecrations of civility in his vulgar and rude social and sexual behavior. And that same mystery is explored by the religious and decent Salieri intent upon serving and expressing God with his art vs. his desecrations of his finer motives into attempts to best and destroy Mozart. Salieri becomes lecherous, sinful, and murderous only after jealous despair overcomes him.
In Shaffer's treatment, however, Salieri is never less than fascinating and entertaining. And Shaffer's Mozart is a shockingly gifted but disgusting cherub. A fabled genius here requires some compression: he is already 25 in this play, and he lived only to 35.
We do not normally regard the desire to create and celebrate higher feelings to be the source of despair, horror and bitter cynicism. But that is how this drama leaves the dying Salieri and the dead Mozart. The final irony is that after elaborately planning suicide to live on in infamous scandal, Salieri cannot manage to die. He has to endure physical pain and increasing nonentity until he dies, forgotten, at 75. For all the terrible loss Salieri's jealousy has brought about, however, Shaffer makes us sympathize with Salieri's awful final despair. Perhaps we think we share some echoes of his disappointment.
In Geva Theater Center's excellent resurrection of this haunting play, Brent Harris is clear and believable as Salieri, amusing with his bitter sarcasm and his likably innocent-seeming self-indulgences. Though sad and frightening in his disintegration, Harris makes Salieri somehow charismatic in his aloof disdain for the unaware folk who surround him.
Jim Poulos is touching in Mozart's unhappiness and funny in his high-jinks, and he does suggest the spark of creative genius. But his Mozart lacks the wild, childlike craziness that Shaffer clearly wants Mozart to shock us with, a young man not only foul-mouthed and startlingly vulgar but also magnetic in his gifts and repellent in his lack of humanity.
Laura Griffith's pliant Constanza, Mozart's suffering wife, is pretty and makes a nice transition from playful to long-suffering; but I don't really think the role well-written enough to create a fully-developed woman. And Brad Heberlee makes the Emperor not only obtuse and amusing but also manages hints of a frightening temper that can bode serious trouble for those dependent upon his favor.
The sets and lighting are efficiently suggestive of grandeur, poverty, and period style to excellent supporting dramatic effect, but I thought the costuming uneven.
Geva's opening night left little doubt that a solid production like this one of this play can certainly excite, amuse and move a sizable audience. For other revivals, however, I would suggest a label on the play: NFA Not For Amateurs.
