Just wanted to stop by and wax lyrical about the final play to be streamed by NT Live on YouTube, yes ‘Amadeus’ by the wonderful Peter Shaffer, starring Lucian Msamati and Adam Gillen.

I adored the Milos Foreman film that has long been in my consciousness for twenty plus years. To this day, I proudly declare it to be my all time fave film to any who will kindly indulge me in asking. Having been captivated, first of all, by Mozart’s music and then secondly by the gorgeous Czech setting, - given that my mother is originally from Czech and it would be years and years before I would eventually get to see the place for myself.

Even though I had read the original play a couple of times in my early teens I had never actually had the chance to see a theatrical version of it, so seeing this production was personally a big deal for me.

The National's production manages to be sardonic, brash, punk, and playful and has certainly helped me to place the film in its proper context beside the original play script and consider Shaffer’s intentions and thematic concerns in greater depth.

With an unflinching gaze and acerbic wit, Msamati’s Salieri refuses to apologise as he unfurls his plot whilst steering his professional rival, Mozart towards his demise.

F. Murray Abraham’s Salieri of the film, though blunt and sneering, is speaking from within the realm of the confessional, implying his sense of guilt and suggesting a need for his actions to be understood. Sometimes Abraham is gleeful, sometimes angry, prideful or genuinely remorseful in turns, such subtle nuance, and contradictions work well when presented through the medium of film.

If we take the Requiem Dictation scene as an example which only occurs in the film, the line between our view of Salieri as friend/foe, devotee and/or destroyer is a fine one. Salieri finds it difficult to reconcile this in himself, and as a character he would sooner blame God and the Universe than himself for his part in Mozart’s downfall.

Msamati’s Salieri of the play is certainly no hypocrite and marvels at his own self, wielding the tools and opportunities for Mozart's destruction at his disposal. Some of the most riveting passages of the piece are when he, in his shamelessness, sets himself up in direct confrontation with God. In the film, while this aspect is apparent, it is not as fully realised as in the play.

It is an exciting moment when Salieri reveals his true self to Mozart. I found myself questioning whether, if like in the film, it would be better if he did not? The best answer I could arrive at for myself was that within the context of the play, it is right that this moment of confrontation occurs and Salieri shows his hand. It feels satisfying for the audience, if not Salieri himself. I was interested to learn via an interview that this was a new section that Shaffer later reworked into the play .

Upon reflection I am glad that he did, and I feel comforted by the notion that a writer’s relationship to his work is continuous and does not just end after you have moved onto the next piece. A writer should always be listening out for any niggling sense of dissatisfaction regarding a given work. For, suitable solutions, the best ideas, do not always show up when we want them to, or, in the way we want them to, the first time around.

A word or two for the Mozarts in both productions. I always find myself feeling so much more sadness over Mozart’s fate, then perhaps Shaffer ever intended? I’m not sure, whenever I have heard him speak in interviews about the figure of Mozart, he always seemed to focus on the less sympathetic aspects of his character.

Tom Hulce’s Mozart of the film is necessarily treated with a deal more naturalism, underneath the flourish of youthful arrogance and immaturity there is a serious artist, both struggling and misunderstood, who in the end is ignored, destroyed and discarded by lesser men. Salieri’s revenge against God is thus meted out. However, it is not music, not art that is damaged, but an innocent life that has been snuffed out. It is Humanity itself that is destroyed. This, I feel is what Salieri means by Injustice.

Adam Gillen’s Mozart, in perfect antithesis to Msamati’s villain, is suitably vulnerable, and ill-equipped to handle the harshness of life. Madness is birthed from the act of creative endeavour. His character comes across as something of a Jester, embarrassing and agitating the stuffy and rigid officials, challenging their formality and insistence upon tradition, highlighting the vanity and falsity of the Viennese Court. It would be difficult to say that his depiction comes across as naturalistic in the way that Hulce’s does. The figure in the NT version is intended to be hyperbolic, it is in Mozart’s extreme silliness that he becomes a figure of extreme pity.

What was fascinating to watch in the theatrical production was the manner in which Mozart’s need for pity is consistently and vigorously denied by Salieri. In so doing, he of course denies this need in himself, when he is perhaps the most deserving of any man’s pity?

Did you see the National Theatre’s Production of Amadeus, what did you think of it? What piece of writing has stayed with you for a lifetime? Do you have that one piece of work that you are not quite satisfied with, or never seems finished? If you have any thoughts or comments, I would love to hear from you below.